The Attribution Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

The Attribution Theory

All I had to do was ask.

There, I said it.

It was a simple problem with an easy solution, but I just couldn’t do it.

The Sunlight Accident, as I now called it, succeeded at a B+ sort of level.

A spectacular failure, in my opinion, but it did its job, I guess.

Because of my actions, the doctor’s office had become as familiar as my own name. I could recite every symptom for lead poisoning in children, gingivitis, and peptic ulcers all thanks to the seemingly random assortment of posters in the waiting room. It also didn’t help that I still went to a pediatrician; the coloring books were fine, but the tiny couches made me feel freakishly tall.

My mother, Twilight Velvet, sat off to the side, burning through a manuscript on her lap with a red pen. No matter how many times I asked, she wouldn’t tell me what she was working on. Weeks of prior prodding had only led to three simple words: “Non-Disclosure Agreement” or to be more efficient, "NDA."

She brushed a small bit of purple hair from her face, and I craned my neck to try and peek over her shoulder. As always, I was met with a simple glare and a cough, and I was back to sitting and watching the TV in the waiting room.

Apparently, the main characters needed to cross a river because the plot demanded it. After about eleven painful seconds of silence meant for audience participation, I decided that my phone would be a better distraction. Although, I couldn’t keep myself from muttering that the “missing” canoe was, in fact, floating behind them in the river.

There was a stifled giggle off to the side, and I caught my mom holding her pen to her face for a brief moment before returning to her work. I had to admire that not even Hearth’s Warming Eve was able to tear away my mother from her work. Still, I knew that I was lucky that she was free before the clinic closed at noon.

“Miss Sparkle,” a receptionist called. I began to stand up before my mother planted her hand on my leg. Taking charge, she got up, stuffed the papers into her bag, and walked over to the window before looking back at me. She smiled before tilting her head and signaling me to come to her side.

“Go down the hall and to the right. Dr. Redheart’s office should be the last door.”

To be polite, I pretended that this was the first time I had heard the instructions. I thanked the receptionist and made my way down to the office with the help of my mother.

Inside, my doctor stood by, holding a clipboard. She always wore a bright smile, seemingly joyful that her career path succeeded despite her name. Every time I came in it was sort of off-putting to see her name tag say, “Dr. Nurse Redheart.”

“Hello, Twilight,” she chirped brightly. “I bet you’re glad to be getting out of your cast. Just in time for any Hearth’s Warming get-togethers, am I right?”

“You know it!” I cheered, jumping up onto a padded medical bench. While I sat up, Dr. Nurse Redheart dug around under the sink and came back up wielding a tiny saw.

“Are you doing anything special for Hearth’s Warming?” Redheart asked.

Instinctively, I ducked away from the cutting tool. “I-I…”

Thankfully, my mother decided to swoop in and answer. “We’re going to visit my mother upstate.”

Redheart smiled before grabbing my cast. “Alright, Twilight. I’d like you to stay still for a moment.”

Wincing, I nodded and closed my eyes, trying to ignore how close the saw was getting to my foot. No amount of research seemed to dispel my anxieties caused by the tiny saw. All the articles I read always noted that it vibrated, meaning there was no chance of getting cut, but I still couldn’t help being squeamish about the whole thing.

I asked the doctor to cut along the side, tracing the pathway down from the length of the cast from halfway up my shin to the bottom of my heel with my index finger. The last thing I wanted was for the messages to be torn apart. Nodding, the doctor brought the mini-saw down and immediately dug it into the cast. Eventually, after a long series of frightened squeals, she got to the bottom and slowly pulled the shell off.

Wow, it was cold.

Bringing my hand down, I rubbed the sides of my calf and scratched at the itch that had been bothering me since about a week after I broke my ankle. Nervous, I slid off the bench, feeling a slight jolt of pain.

“Careful when you put weight on it,” Redheart instructed, most likely because of my cringing face.

“Okay,” I answered back with a breathy whine.

Using the nearby counter, I kept myself steady, mindful of the slight weakness in my ankle. The pain slightly subsided but stopped just above dull, and I quickly got used to it.

“Would you like to keep the cast?”

I perked up at the doctor’s question. “Can I just see it for a bit?” I asked.

She handed over the husk, and I looked over the messages written by my new circle of friends. Ignoring the slight stench of sweat, I pulled out my phone and took pictures of the signatures and “get well” wishes.

The conversation between my mother and the doctor shifted back to Hearth’s Warming plans. I filtered out their talking and went to absentmindedly tracing a certain comment with my finger.

“Don’t open ‘til Hearth’s Warming–Sunset.”

Well, technically it was Hearth’s Warming Eve, but I let the slight inaccuracy slide.

Like she had promised, her phone number was written under the snarky comment.

Slowly, I moved my ankle around in a circular motion, stretching out the joints before reaching for the other shoe. Once I felt comfortable, I looked over to my mom and flashed her a smile.

My mom leaned over and held my hand. “You ready to go?”

I nodded as I took my first step with my newly-healed foot.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming,” the doctor said as my mom helped me out the room.

I leaned back into the doctor’s office. “Happy Hearth’s Warming!”

Cautious, my mother led me down the hall, holding my hand the entire way down to the family car. Her grip was tight, refusing to let me go—even while going down the elevator—as if I’d slip, fall, and break my ankle all over again. I smiled at the thought as I caught my reflection in the metallic doors of the elevator.

When I climbed into the car, I stared back the stack of boxes in the back seat, all waiting to be delivered personally to my new group of friends. Ever since the Friendship Games, my social circle had exploded. Once the holiday season came around, my wallet became the casualty as I had to get gifts for my parents, my brother Shining, my future sister-in-law Cadence, Spike, and the eleven girls I could genuinely call my friends.

There was also the problem of giving them out. Sure, getting the cast removed helped, but I still had eleven stops. Some of the stops were easy, as Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy lived on the same block, but Applejack lived a little bit outside of Canterlot.

I pulled out my phone and opened a roadmap of the city’s bus routes. It would take a while, but there was a good chance I’d be home long before it was time to leave. Still, I could ask my mother for a ride around town. Then again, I didn’t want to bother her either.

“Hey Mom,” I called, fastening my seatbelt.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Would you mind taking me around town? I have a few Hearth’s Warming presents to pass out.” I knew she was a busy woman, so I braced myself for a swift yet polite rejection.

“Sure,” she answered quietly, her focus mostly on backing out safely. “We don’t have to leave until one.”

Nice. My shoulders lowered at the relief that came from both the saved $6.35 and (more importantly) the time before the trip to my grandmother’s. Leaning back into the seat, I closed the bus routes stored on my phone. But even then, I kept the road maps open to direct my mother on the most time and fuel efficient route.

—☀—

“Oh my, this is just the most darling pair of socks, Twilight! Are they cashmere? My, Twilight, these definitely put the scarf I made for you to shame.” An inefficient yet necessary ten minutes were spent reassuring Rarity that her scarf was, indeed, quite beautiful.

“Hey! They’ve got cupcakes on them!” Pinkie Pie beamed, clutching the pastel-colored gift to her chest. “Wait here, Twilight! I made everyone a super-duper, special personalized gummy-candy fruitcake!” Somehow, Pinkie’s fruitcake was a lot heavier than it looked.

“Socks!” From the look of the telltale twitch, I braced myself for Sour Sweet’s backhanded compliment. “How did you know that I warranted a last minute gift? What am I, an afterthought?” There it is. Deep down, I knew Sour Sweet appreciated the gift anyway.

“Socks, huh? Simple... practical. Everybody needs them. Smart move, Twilight.” Smirking, Sugarcoat turned to the inside of her house. “Hold on, I also got you a pair.”

—☀—

“Socks?” Rainbow Dash asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against her doorpost.

“Yep,” I beamed as I handed over the present. “The universal gift!”

“Jeez, Twilight. You… didn’t have to.” Reluctantly, she pulled out the packaged socks from the little gift bag. “I mean, really? Socks?”

“They’re not just any socks, Rainbow. They’re SlimFit, CrossFiber, UltraSoft, SmoothTread, MoistureAbsorbant, ThermalLock Athletic Socks!”

She huffed through her nose. “They’re socks, Twilight.”

—☀—

My mother hummed along to the bubblegum-pop tune on the radio as she drove down the road, tapping at the steering wheel. I did the same with my phone, struggling to find an introductory text message to send to Sunset Shimmer. Everything seemed wrong from the painfully safe “Sup?” and the boundary pushing “I know your number now lol.”

A small (but much needed) stroke of genius led me to type, “It’s Hearth’s Warming.”

It was coy, cheeky even, and it referenced the parting line that put our relationship on the shelf. Personal, yet vague. Genuine and earnest, but subtle. Staring at the screen, I caught my reflection and the dopey, satisfied smile that came with it.

After a brutal wait of five minutes, her response was simply, “Who dis?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” I sent back, groaning at the response.

“I kinda figured ;P”

I laughed awkwardly to myself, earning a short glance from my mom as we reached a busy street.

Turning back to my phone, I typed in, “I’m coming by your apartment soon.”

Sunset didn’t respond.

“This is it, right?” my mom asked. “I'll go find somewhere to park. Just call me when you’re done.”

“Alrighty then, maybe you can find a place to work on…”

“NDA,” my mother shot back, unlocking the car doors. Nodding, I hopped out the car and waved as my mother drove off.

My heart was racing, and my stomach began to churn. For once, I was glad that I skipped breakfast. I ambled down the sidewalk until I came to Sunset’s apartment complex, a tallish building that embodied the definition of “economical.” On the side of the road, chained to a wide post, was Sunset’s motorcycle.

I ran my hand along the bike’s coating, feeling the scratchy chips in the paint. The slight nicks and dents in the body only made me feel worse. Hopefully, she wasn’t harboring a grudge against me for ruining her bike. From the look of it, though, the aesthetics of the bike might have been the only thing that was damaged.

Maybe I should have given Sunset's bike a new paint job. Feeling inadequate, I stared down at the box tucked under my left arm.

I stepped into the apartment building’s lobby. This was a more than generous statement as it was tiny and only had a small coffee table, a handful of chairs, and a plastic ficus off to the side, haphazardly adorned with holiday lights.

Giving Sunset another chance to reply, I sat on a chair next to the elevator while holding the wrapped gift under my arm. I ran my thumb across the slight wrinkles along the top of the package. As if it made a difference, I kept checking my phone every few seconds, watching as the digital numbers rose at an increasingly slower pace as if it were mocking me.

Despite this, I nearly jumped in my seat when the phone began to vibrate in my hand.

“Come on up. 3rd floor. 314 in case you forgot.”

Breathing in deeply, I stood up, careful not to put too much weight on my ankle. “Third floor, number three-fourteen,” I repeated to myself as the elevator doors shut behind me.

Straining, I half-hobbled my way towards her apartment. My nails scratched at the box, threatening to tear it open before it got to its intended recipient. I found myself concentrating on the floor, noticing discolored stains on the carpet below; I didn’t know how I had missed them during my visits post-The Sunlight Accident, but I quickly guessed that it was my nervousness that was making me hyperaware of my surroundings.

Stepping over one of the aforementioned stains, I stopped at Sunset’s door and knocked.

There was a slight click in the lock, followed by another, and then a third chain-based lock came last before the door opened. I held my breath, unprepared for her to answer so quickly. Gripping the box tighter, I stepped back as Sunset Shimmer stood at the door frame.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming,” she greeted cheerily as she leaned against the wall. Smiling, she held her hand against a pair of gray sweatpants, half-covering an off-color stain on her thigh. Her hair, for lack of a better word, was floofy—almost unkempt—under the festive red hat she wore. She looked unapologetically comfortable, almost as if she didn’t plan to leave the apartment until school began again in January.

“H-hi,” was all I managed to get out.

She glanced down at the gift in my hands and bit her lip. “Oh, you didn’t have to.” Without saying another word, she opened the door completely and motioned for me to come in.

As I entered, Sunset disappeared behind a wall leading to her kitchen. Not knowing what else to do, I slumped down onto her couch. It was just as uncomfortable as I remembered from my other visits following the accident, though I never really had the heart to tell Sunset about it. The last time I came here, Sunset affectionately referred to the seat’s color as “Baby Barf.”

“How’s the leg doing?” Sunset asked, sticking her head out from the kitchen.

“Oh, it’s fine now,” I answered, rotating my ankle again. “I can walk on two working feet again.”

“That’s good,” she said casually as I heard the fridge door shut. “It was kinda sad to see you hobble around CHS after the whole accident thing. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

“Don’t be. It was my fault.”

“It was on my bike,” Sunset shot back. “Therefore, it was my responsibility to get you home safe.”

“It happened on my parents’ front yard,” I countered, shifting the blame back towards myself. It really was my fault, in all seriousness. “My problem.”

Sunset, unfortunately, was having none of it. In retaliation, she crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch’s cushions. “We fell into the street—public property. My fault.”

“Fine,” I conceded, “it’s your fault. I blame you. It’s entirely your fault that I grabbed the bike’s handles and sent us rolling down the hill.”

“Thank you.”

We stopped talking for a moment, thinking about what we had just said before breaking out into a fit of laughter. A moment later, I felt her hand on my back and I immediately felt myself tense up at her touch.

“H-here’s your gift,” I blurted out, sheepishly pushing the wrapped box forward. “Open it.”

Smiling, she brushed a lock of hair away from her face before accepting the present. Anxiously, I watched her tear away the paper wrapping. The sheets of decorated paper crinkled as they hit the floor, and my heart rate immediately spiked while I studied Sunset’s face.

Her fingers pried the lid open and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw what was inside. She jumped back, only slightly, but I could see the surprise plastered all over her face. She cocked her head and squinted her eyes, most likely to get a closer look.

All my fears disappeared the second a smile formed on her face.

“Oh, wow,” she said, pulling up a shoddily sewn together teddy bear. “Mr. Stuffed Bear, you’re alive.”

I laughed at the comment. “I stitched him up myself.”

She held up the stuffed bear, watching as its leg was held on by a literal thread. Its button eyes were mismatched, one black, the other navy blue—an honest mistake in the dark, really. I never said I was good at sewing.

“I love it,” Sunset beamed. “It’s ugly, but in a really charming way.”

She clutched the bear to her chest, bringing it into a tight bear hug. A moment later, she did the same with me and my cheeks began to swell. That hug alone made the six-and-a-half hours on the stuffed animal operating table worth it.

“I’m glad you like it... I kinda figured you should have a little memento from that night.”

Hearing that, Sunset shot up from the couch. “Oh! That reminds me,” she announced, nearly bolting into the next room. “Wait here!”

While waiting for her to return, I stared at the gift I had just given Sunset and I noticed little things I wanted to change. For example, a fair amount of the stuffing was still exposed, seeping out from some of the stitching. There was also the fact that the bear’s left ear was stitched on backward.

Seconds later, Sunset returned, holding a box of her own. She sat back down on the couch, sitting on her legs as she handed it over. “Open it here—I want to see your reaction.”

Fair enough. Not knowing what to expect, I forced the top off the pre-wrapped box.

Inside was a picture frame, displaying a photo of Sunset and I…

Riding the Iron Pegasus.

Sunset was caught mid-laugh, a joyful smile on her face, and I had no doubt that she was having fun at that moment. The wind blew at her hair, rippling it enough to resemble a flickering flame. At first, I loved the gift, finding it thoughtfully sentimental... up until I saw myself.

It wasn’t a flattering photo, to say the least.

Unlike Sunset, I was caught in a state of absolute horror.

Did I mention that I’m also hilariously unphotogenic?

“What do you think?” Sunset asked, leaning in closer. “I was gonna swing by your house to drop it off later today, but since you’re here… I figured.”

“It’s... great,” I forced out. “How’d you get this?”

Sunset chuckled and leaned back comfortably in her seat. “I texted AJ to pick up a picture while we were walking out. Y’know, for the memories.”

I thumbed the picture frame, finding the thoughts it carried from the day at Funland to be the consoling silver lining. It was nearly the perfect day. Sunset and I held hands, got ice cream, won carnival prizes... Of course, I definitely wouldn’t mind forgetting every event that took place after.

“I used to have it sitting by my bed, but I figured you should keep it.”

Oh, jeez. That means in the past month and a half, Sunset woke up to my screaming, horrified face every single morning.

At least I was in her thoughts.

And it was the thought that counted.

“Thank you,” I said, holding the picture-frame close.

“You’re welcome,” she answered back, pausing for a brief moment. “So! How about we pick up where we left off.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you want to tell me something?”

“Oh! Um…”

Immediately my mind went blank, and it was as if we had reversed back to that moment in time where I was hopelessly crushing on Sunset. It was at that moment when I realized that I was not prepared for anything past this point.

“Sunset,” I continued, hearing myself talk like I was a distant observer. “Would you like to... um, go out?”

There, I did it.

She smiled. “Where to?”

Oh jeez. I didn’t expect to get this far.

“Movies, go see,” I stuttered, tripping over my own tongue. “Heroic suppers?”

“Ah,” Sunset hummed. “How did you know superpowered dinners were my weakness?”

“What?”

She chuckled. “Nevermind.”

“So is that a yes?” I asked. She seemed to be thinking it over, and I couldn’t tell whether or not she was actually thinking about it. For some reason, she paused longer than the conventional standard of silence in a conversation.

If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn she was doing this on purpose.

“Uh, I don’t know. I don’t think seeing a meatloaf in tights constitutes a good date.”

It was then when I finally got the joke. “Oh, ha-ha. But seriously, Sunset.”

“I think it sounds like fun,” she answered. “I’d love to.”

It was then that all the weight came off my shoulders. Everything was out there. She knew I liked her, and I knew she was interested With a relieved sigh, I allowed myself to sink into the plush, unsupportive couch. There were no more unanswered questions left.

“So, when are we going?”

Oh jeez. How in the world did I forget that dates had to be, you know, scheduled on a date? It took every fiber of my being not to panic. Not thinking, I just blurted out, “How about the thirty-second? Wait, uh… the twenty-eighth?”

Real smooth, Twilight.

She laughed again before nodding. “Sure, Twilight. I’ll pick you up at six. How’s that sound?”

“Good! Great! Stellar!” I cheered, mostly because I didn’t have to make the decision myself. Otherwise, we’d have been there for hours. Luckily, I had researched every movie’s showtime over the upcoming week. A six o’clock pick up, with a ten-minute drive to the movie theater, left a little over an hour before the seven-thirty showing.

Another good thing about Sunset’s dictated meet time: it helped me decide between dinner then movie versus movie then dinner. This also lessened the probability of Sunset and I getting hungry during the movie, which allowed for the almost excessive two hours and forty-two minutes to be enjoyed. The pros seemed to be stacking up in favor of Sunset’s decision.

Then, we could end the night at the nearby ice cream parlor.

It was perfect.

"So what are you doing for Hearth's Warming?" Sunset asked.

"Oh, I'm going to my grandparents' place upstate," I answered. "You?"

"Rarity's throwing a Hearth's Warming party."

"Oh yeah, I remember her giving out invitations."

"It's a real shame," Sunset droned, putting on a mildly disappointed voice. "I would have taken you as my plus one."

I knew it was a joke, but I found myself kind of wanting to go with Sunset instead.

There was a short chime coming from my bag. "That's probably my mom. I should get going. We want to get there before my grandmother starts cooking the family dinner on her own."

"Let me guess. You guys were late once, and she won't let you forget it?"

"Exactly," I said as I slung my bag over my shoulder. With Sunset's lead, I made my way over to the front door. "It was great seeing you."

“You too,” Sunset said. “Six o’clock?”

“Yeah, definitely six,” I confirmed, stepping outside of the apartment. I turned back towards her and noticed she was still holding the door open slightly. We stared at each other for a quick second.

She stepped out the doorway a little. “The twenty-eighth?”

“Yup.” It was then when I realized that she was keeping me over a bit longer on purpose. Did I forget to do something? That was probably it. But what was it? Maybe I left behind the gift she gave me... but a simple glance at my bag proved that it wasn’t the case.

"Alright then, see ya, Twilight."

"Bye," I said, turning away from the apartment.

Dazed, I thought about the last few minutes as I shuffled my way back out the building, still confused on what Sunset had wanted when I began to leave. Maybe I should've stayed longer?

Shaking off these thoughts, I spotted a blue minivan parked across the street. Immediately, I knew it was my mother’s because she had what was most likely the only vehicle in existence with an “I Break for Grammar” bumper sticker. Like always, I lightly slapped the side of the car and waited for an audible click before hopping in.

“So,” I spoke up coolly, “get any work done on…”

“NDA,” my mother said nonchalantly as she started the car with a flick of the wrist.

I chuckled. “And here I was thinking I’d get you this time.”

“So how about you?” she asked. “You look like you’re dancing on clouds.”

According to the rear-view mirror, I was still blushing from my conversation with Sunset. “I’ll only tell you if you tell me the secret project you’re working on.”

My mother only smirked and kept her eyes focused on the road. “A little persistent, aren’t we? Fine, but all I can legally say is ‘Bravely Blue.’ Now, tell me. What’s got you so happy?”

I gripped the safety handle weakly, suddenly feeling my face heat up.

“I, uh, think I have a date.”

Author's Note

"We all have a need to explain the world, both to ourselves and to other people, attributing cause to the events around us. When another person has erred, we will often use internal attribution, saying it is due to internal personality factors. When we have erred, we will more likely use external attribution, attributing causes to situational factors rather than blaming ourselves." [X]

The Buffer Theory of Social Support
View Online

The Sunlight Theory

The Buffer Theory of Social Support

It was December twenty-sixth, a bit less than two days before the date, and I still had a nagging question in the back of my mind: what was I going to wear?

Yes, it was the stereotypical thing for a girl my age to worry about, but I couldn't help it. Apparently, what people wore on dates said a lot about their investment in the relationship. I wanted something that said I was committed but not desperate, which seemed easier said than done.

Looking over my wardrobe, I examined the potential outfits.

Blue blouse, purple skirt. Black shoes.

Nope.

How about the white blouse, the black skirt, and the heels?

Maybe. Though it’s a bit too… formal?

Black turtleneck, clean pressed jeans, black flats.

I don’t know.

White. Black. Black.

I... I can’t decide.

“Me neither,” Princess Twilight said. Sighing, she pulled the hair tie off her head, and the long locks of purple fell over her shoulders. "Honestly, I don't know why you prefer to keep your hair tied up."

Shrugging, I held my hands out as the other me passed over a stack of photos, a shortlist of first date outfit combinations. Over a long, indecisive two hours, Princess Twilight had modeled nearly my entire wardrobe while I took pictures. An exact duplicate of myself made coordinating clothes a lot easier despite it being a huge misuse of conclusive proof of alternate dimensions.

I thumbed through the stack and scoffed, disappointed with almost every outfit. They were... okay, to say the least, but none of them were dating material.

Unsatisfied, I blew at a loose tuft of hair on my forehead before asking, "What even is dating material?"

"Probably cashmere or cotton," the other me joked unhelpfully. The semi-telepathy thankfully kept me from having to voice my discontent; a simple glare was enough for her to get the message.

I kicked at the crumpled clothes and let out a slight, dissatisfied groan. Princess Twilight, noticing my dramatic display of teenage angst, walked over to the bed and reassuringly patted my shoulder. It was weird at first, but I eventually felt a bit better after what I realised was the most literal definition of the term "self-care."

"How about we take a break?" I asked, flopping backward into the plush safety of my bed.

"I was just thinking the same thing," she said.

Unable to do anything else, I stared up at the ceiling. Overthinking had become a habit... a really bad one. I was still hopelessly crushing on Sunset Shimmer, and I was still analyzing my every move even though it was what made everything go wrong in the first place.

It was almost like I was doing the same thing all over again.

Almost.

Sure, The Sunlight Accident had landed me a date with Sunset, but it was exactly what the label said, an accident a fluke. I got lucky, and I wasn’t really sure if I had earned it. For all I knew, she only said yes because it was the polite thing to do. Maybe it was even a pity date, an A-for-effort-type situation.

"Hey," I called out, choosing not to say my name out loud because it still felt weird. "Do you think Sunset Shimmer is even interested in me?"

"Not to sound narcissistic," she said, "but I don't see why not."

Chuckling, I rolled over and reached for the laptop at the side of my bed. I typed in another variation of the words "first date tips" and groaned at the lack of new results. No matter how many relationship blogs and "listicles" I found, I still felt clueless.

There was no general consensus on what even was considered the perfect date, and the doubts weighed down my initial excitement for the dinner and movie date.

It was a well-trodden date concept for sure, but it was definitely that for a reason. The movie served as a conversation starter, something common to bond over.

Although, the idea also had a few downsides when placed under the microscope. The biggest problem was the lack of actual time to connect on a relationship level. The dinner covered it, but the twenty minute wait time for the food to be prepared (with a standard deviation of approximately six minutes) and an estimated twenty minutes of eating accounted for less than a third of the entire date.

Admittedly, Sunset and I would be friends going in, but I didn't want to waste a single second of one-on-one time, where we could potentially become more than just friends. On paper, two and a half hours of passively sitting in front of a theater screen might not have been the most effective use of time. And yet I couldn't change the date plans either, or else I would come across as flaky and indecisive.

There was also the chance that the movie wouldn’t be any good. Sure, The Elements: Discordant scored an eighty-nine on the movie review aggregate website Spoiled Apples, but Sunset’s opinions might align with the eleven-percent minority.

Anxious, I glanced over at Princess Twilight, who was looking through the stack of pictures herself. Reminded at the mission at hand, I opened a new tab and typed in "what to wear on a first date," another search I had burned through.

And, of course, no new results came up.

Apparently, from what the online dating blogs dictated, what one wore to the date was only the first of the many make-or-break variables. According to those same blogs, I needed an outfit that was confidently humble, uniquely relatable and a handful of other conflicting descriptions.

I was going nowhere fast.

All I knew was that I needed something more conclusive. Something published. I made a mental note to visit the library tomorrow.

“‘Approachably fierce,’” Princess Twilight read aloud as she looked over my shoulder. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know. It’s almost like they’re trying to get me to fall flat on my face.”

Frustrated, I stood up and looked at the pile of photos again. The only word I could use for each outfit was “safe.” Though I could probably even go as far as to say “dangerously safe,” or even “memorably forgettable.”

I looked over to Princess Twilight. For someone with the responsibility of watching over a kingdom, she seemed relaxed and incredibly well put together. I was stressing over what to wear, and the other me had others literally relying on her to protect them. She was me, but almost completely different, despite our similar appearance and thought process. It made me wonder how similar we really were.

"I'm curious," I spoke up. "What's your idea of a perfect date?"

"Well, I haven't really given it much thought," she said with a dreamy hum, and I immediately knew she was lying. "Maybe go to the Canterlot History Museum or maybe even the aquarium. Then, we’d walk to the little restaurant by the castle and end the night with a stroll through the park.”

Just as I guessed, she had thought about it before and thought about it a lot, most likely in the middle of the night while clutching a romantic book and staring up at the ceiling wistfully. A pint of ice cream was most likely not too far out of reach.

I decided not to call her out on it.

“Twilight?” called a voice in the distance, which I immediately recognized as my mother’s. She was home earlier than I expected. Panicking, I looked to Princess Twilight who was staring back at me with what I assumed was the same horrified expression that was on my face.

“Hide!” we both shrieked, struggling to think of an escape route. Taking charge, Princess Twilight grabbed me by the shoulders and unceremoniously shoved me into the walk-in closet on the opposite side of the bed.

I held my breath and hoped that I got out of sight fast enough. When I felt calm, I stepped forward and squinted to see through the tiny wooden blinds built into the door.

“Hello, Mother,” I heard Princess Twilight say, albeit a bit stiffly. From what I could tell, the other me was most likely adjusting to the idea of seeing her mother as a human.

“Hey, sweetheart,” my mother said back. It felt weird hearing her address someone else with that pet name. Sure, she thought she was talking to me, but it didn’t stop me from feeling just a little bit jealous.

Sheepishly, Princess Twilight looked down at the piles of clothes at her feet. “Er, sorry about the mess.”

“Oh, sweetie.”

“It looks bad, doesn’t it?” Princess Twilight asked, through what I assumed was a sheepish smile.

There was a short silence before my mother walked into view, joining my doppelganger on the edge of the bed. She placed her hand on Princess Twilight’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you were so worked up about this.”

“Well...” the other me said while staring down at her feet. “I might be a little bit nervous. I just want to make to make sure it isn’t terrible.”

My mother laughed and slapped at Princess Twilight's back. “It’s a first date, Twily. Your first first date. It’s supposed to be terrible.”

"You would think—"

My mother's laugh cut her off. "Did I ever tell you about my first date with your father?"

I perked up and pressed my ear against the door. It almost seemed worth it to reveal myself just to be right next to her when she told the story.

"Well, I know you two met through work," the other me answered, most likely using her own experiences for an educated guess.

Mom hummed. "Your father asked me out for some coffee, and I said yes, thinking that it was just a creative meeting."

Princess Twilight giggled. "That must have been really awkward."

"Oh, it was," she said with a light smile. "I was tearing into him, telling him that he was mishandling my book, that his film adaptation was going to be awful, that he was just a studio hack, et cetera."

"And what did he do?" the other me asked, echoing my thoughts exactly.

"He just sat there, taking notes," my mother answered. "And after I was finished ranting on what to fix, he simply took a sip of coffee and said, 'Y'know, I thought we could talk about something other than work, but okay,' and I knew he was a keeper."

"Wow," was all Princess Twilight was able to get out, still mirroring my thoughts.

"Now, before you get all anxious," she started, "just remember that if I got through that, got married, and had two beautiful children because of it, then you'll be fine."

Princess Twilight laughed. “You’re right, Mom. I should totally listen to you and just relax.” As if I hadn’t gotten the point, Princess Twilight turned and faced the closet door. It took a large amount of self-restraint to keep myself from audibly groaning.

Sliding across the bed, my mother wrapped her arm around Princess Twilight. “Oh, my baby’s going on her first date!” Excited, she brought my other self into a sideways hug.

“Mom,” Princess Twilight wheezed. “It’s not that big a deal.”

Not a big deal? This date could set the course for my relationship. If it went wrong, I didn’t think I’d be able to look Sunset Shimmer in the eye at school.

I might even have to transfer back to…

I bit my lip and tried to force the thought from my mind.

When I came back to reality, my mother was out of sight, but I could still hear her gentle, almost reassuring breaths.

“You know,” my mother started, “you should really wear your hair down more. It suits you.”

With that, she left.

Princess Twilight looked towards me to signal that the coast was clear. Wanting to get out from the stuffy closet, I flopped onto the floor and ignored the dull pain that followed.

“That was…” we both said with a gasping breath, “interesting.”

We looked at each other for a quick moment.

“You know what this means?”

“Way ahead of you.”

Giddily, we jumped up and reached for the pile of clothes.

“Alrighty,” Princess Twilight said while slipping on the black turtleneck, “so should we start with hair up, glasses off or hair down, glasses off?”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Aside from the faint stench of manure, the inside of Applejack's barn was the perfect place to hold a Rainboom rehearsal. It was indoors and, more importantly, secluded from the ears of those that might have opposed an unrelenting five-minute drum solo from Pinkie Pie.

Reminded of an old joke, I nudged Pinkie’s arm. “What’s the dynamic range of a drummer?”

Pinkie shrugged. “I dunno. What?”

“On or off,” I said after an amused chuckle.

“I don’t get it,” Pinkie said. “What are dynamics?”

Indignant, I balled my hands into fists. Although I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. “The volume a musician play—nevermind.”

“Yer barkin’ up the wrong tree there, Twilight,” Applejack cut in. “We just give her two drumsticks and let her do her thing.”

Perking up, I said, “That reminds me of another jo—”

“Yeah, yeah, spare us your stand up routine,” Rainbow Dash dismissed, carelessly noodling on her guitar. “By the way, you totally missed out on a kick-butt Hearth’s Warming party, Twilight."

"Yeah!" Pinkie cheered while adjusting her ride cymbal stand. "A little after nine o'clock, the party started getting craaazy."

Rarity huffed and crossed her arms. "We're better off if we don't mention anything."

"What happened?" I asked.

Rainbow forcefully rammed her way through a guitar lick. "By ten, Rarity passed out face first into the stack of Hearth's Warming gifts."

"Hey!" Rarity piped.

"By the way, Rarity," Sunset spoke up, "Your mom's super cool for letting us try some of the wine."

"Yeah," Rainbow jumped in, punching Rarity's shoulder. "I totally would have never pegged you as a lightweight. One sip and we had to tie you down to keep you from hurting someone."

Rarity blushed. "Well, my mother only let us do that because it was Hearth's Warming, after all, and we were under her supervision. Any other day, she'd rather die than encourage underage drinking."

I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to have been there. Sure, an intimate party among close friends and family sounded fun, but I couldn't really condone the drinking. My grandmother tried the same thing on Hearth's Warming and I got the chance to practice being assertive, at the very least.

“Speaking of heavy drinking,” Sunset brought up playfully, “I had way too much cider. Mind if I use your bathroom, AJ?”

Applejack only nodded, and Sunset slung off her guitar before leaving the barn.

Waiting a few seconds, I turned to the rest of the girls.

“So…” I said. “Do you have it?”

The “it” was a set of flashcards, containing various things that Sunset Shimmer either liked or disliked. I had a general idea of some things, but the flashcards supplied by the girls helped fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow said, digging into her pockets until she pulled out her contribution. “Still, isn’t this kinda… creepy?”

“Nah, it’s juuuust the right amount of obsession!” Pinkie answered, passing in her own stack.

“Nevermind that,” I interrupted, skimming through the cards. “Can we just run through it once?”

Rarity smirked as she snatched the set of paper from my hands. “Only if you join the Rainbooms, Twilight.”

The other girls seemed to nod in agreement, and the rehearsal suddenly turned into an intervention. The girls, with their instruments strapped over their shoulders (including Pinkie and her drumset), stepped in closer, using the power of peer pressure to their advantage.

I crossed my arms in a stubborn show of resistance. “I already told you guys I’m not a singer, but I can play the piano.”

“But Rarity’s the pianist,” Fluttershy answered back.

“She’s a what-now?” Rainbow Dash cackled. “‘Cause I thought you just said she was a—”

“Piano player!” Applejack cut in before punching Rainbow’s arm. “It wasn’t even funny the first time, Rainbow.”

If Sunset wasn't my ride home, I would have just left and walked home. Speaking of Sunset, I could have used her backup as she seemed to be the only one who was on my side when it came to my refusal to join. But apparently inter-dimensional unicorns also have to use the bathroom.

“Come on, just one more run-through of the cards.”

“I dunno,” Pinkie said. “It looks like Sunset might come back any second now.”

“The last thing you want is for her to stumble upon us quizzing you on this.” Rainbow Dash chuckled before swiping the flashcards from Rarity. “Although, if you become a Rainboom, I’m sure we can squeeze in a lightning round.”

I grimaced before finally conceding. “Fine,” I said. “Backup singer only.”

“For now, but this conversation ain’t over, Twi,” Rainbow said, flipping through the cards in her hands. “What’s Sunset’s favorite ice-cream flavor?”

“Strawberry cheesecake,” I answered. “With real pieces of cheesecake.”

“Favorite book?”

“Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet.”

“Favorite car freshener?”

“Trick question,” I said. “She drives a motorcycle. Who even wrote that one?”

“I did!” Pinkie beamed. “But wrong! It’s ‘Summer Sun Scentsation.’”

I rolled my eyes and motioned for Rainbow to continue. In a span of a minute and a half, we burned through a majority of the flashcards, and I began to feel a little more comfortable now that I knew a little more.

When Sunset came back in, I had just barely shoved the flashcards into my bag. “So what’d I miss?” she asked while walking over to her guitar.

“Twilight decided to join the Rainbooms!” Pinkie announced.

“As a background singer,” I clarified. “Nothing more.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rarity said.

I figured that I should probably find someone else for help. Otherwise, I would be the lead singer, songwriter, and manager if I came to them again. Luckily, my social circle was relatively large.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“So you finally nutted up,” Sugarcoat chided. I found myself having a hard time thinking of a more eloquent phrasing. She crossed her arms and nodded, leaning back in her computer chair with an approving smile, almost pleased with the announcement of my first date. “I told you that, and I quote, all you had to do was ‘ask her on the damn date.’”

“I know,” I answered back sheepishly. A round of teasing laughter followed, and I felt self-conscious. Normally, the dorms in Crystal Prep were wide and spacious, ridiculously large, but the room suddenly felt like a shoe box as all five girls focused on me.

“So what’s the plan?” Lemon Zest asked. She sat up from the bed and lay on her stomach, supporting her head with her hands. She kicked her feet playfully before adding a cheerful, “Looking to hit a home-run, champ?”

“Please,” Sunny Flare scoffed. “She’s blindly swinging at tee-balls.”

I countered with a short, “Hey!” but dropped it at that.

The baseball metaphor, at the moment, was lost on me. After some online research at home, it became clear that the sport represented stages in a relationship. First base meant kissing, and from that point on, it seemed to escalate far past what I was comfortable with on a first date. But yes, I was in fact blindly swinging at tee-balls.

To keep to the metaphor, I also desperately needed coaching.

“Iron Will’s Ultimate Guide to Imposing Your Confidence and Love to Potential Mates?” Indigo asked, pulling out a stack of books from my bag. Immediately feeling my face heat up, I dove for her and desperately clawed at the bag she held just out of reach. One by one, the contents of my most recent library trip were put out in the open for the rest of the girls to see.

“I couldn’t help it,” Indigo apologized. “It was just sticking out.”

Sunny Flare leaned in and swiped the book from Indigo. “Wow, that title is not creepy in the slightest.”

“It’s just for research!” I defended, crossing my arms with an annoyed huff. “I mean, I also came to you guys for help.”

“After Iron Will,” Sunny shot back.

“Well isn’t that just great?” Sour Sweet clicked her tongue. “The guy who sells windshield cleaners was her first pick over us!”

“The girl definitely has her priorities straight then,” Sugarcoat added. “I’d rather trust that infomercial hack with my love life before I go to you guys.”

“It’s not like that.” I’m sure they were all joking, but their comments always felt a little mean-spirited. “I just needed all the help I could get.”

“Clearly,” was Sugarcoat’s response. To emphasize her point, she reached for the rest of the books. “I’m pretty sure The Big Book of Body Language and Buddy the Love Loofah’s Relationship Manual are the signs of a hopeless romantic who got lucky.”

I didn’t bother to fight it because she was exactly right.

“I need help,” I admitted. “It’s my first date… ever.”

“We kinda figured,” Sunny Flare said, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Come on, I have an idea.”

“What do you have in mind?”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Seduce me.”

“What!?”

“You heard me,” Sunny Flare said, smirking as she toyed with a wine glass filled with orange soda.

Sunny Flare sat across from me at a makeshift dinner table, constructed out of her computer desk and a bedsheet. The rest of the girls sat off on the bed, each holding notepads and scrutinizing my every move.

“I, uh…”

Immediately, the rest of the girls began to scribble down notes.

“Wrong,” Sunny scolded, writing down what I assumed to be the same thing the others wrote. “Do not talk about yourself until your date asks you a question. Now, Lemon, tell me what was Iron Will’s sage advice?”

“‘Remind your potential mate of how virile you are by asserting your awesome traits via speech within ten seconds of making eye contact.’” Lemon winced. “Ugh, the machismo in this sentence alone is giving me a testosterone rush.”

“See?” Sunny leaned in. “If you stuck with this doorstopper posing as a published work, you’d be standing on the dinner table and flexing before the main course is even served.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back into the swivel chair. “I get it. I should’ve come to you guys.”

“Damn straight,” Sugarcoat added.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I found myself reviewing both the flashcards from the Rainbooms and the notes from my Crystal Prep friends on the walk home. Thumbing through the cards, I couldn’t help but feel that this may have been a little excessive. Key words being “a little.”

When I got home, I was met with a call from the basement.

“Twilight!” I knew that tone of voice. It was my dad, and he most likely needed help. I dropped my bag and marched down the stairs to the basement. Sure enough, my father was hunched over a tiny model in the center of the room. While some people had model trains or war reenactments, my father made a replica of the set of whatever movie he was directing.

“Hey, Dad,” I said, looking over the basement step railing at my father’s newest problem. Whatever he was doing, it was still early on in the planning phase from the look of the scattered notes on the table.

“I need help, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” I asked, hopping off the bottom step.

“This scene,” my father said, motioning towards the model. “For some reason, I’m having trouble blocking it properly.”

The film definition of “blocking” refers to the position and actions of actors in relation to the camera. If done well, the character’s movements on screen subtly influence the audience’s thoughts. My father recognized this and made an effort to act out the scenes himself (or with his unsuspecting family). However, now that computers and 3D printers became easily accessible, I had lost my lead roles to small pieces of plastic.

Still, even with the advancement of technology, my dad had his struggles with shooting certain scenes, which was where I often came as a fresh set of eyes.

My father’s creative bankruptcy often meant that I got my name on the credits of whatever movie my father was making. It definitely looked good on my resume to be an “assistant consulting creative director” or whatever that meant.

All I had to do to get my name on the silver screen was give my dad some advice on how characters in a scene should move. I’m directing the director.

Excited, I walked over to the tiny model on the table. It was a recreation of a high class restaurant, and there seemed to be a group of soldiers waiting in the model kitchen. But there was one figure that caught my attention. It was a small, stiff figure that was clad in an explorer’s get-up and an unmistakeable pith helmet.

“Is this…”

“Daring Do,” my father answered.

“You didn’t.”

“I did. Well, your mother did. She smooth-talked Yearling into selling us the film rights… under the condition that we have A.K. on set during all shoots, list her as producer and story consultant, and only your mother and I can work on the script.”

“She must be very protective of her books. I would be too,” I said coolly, but inside my mind was a fireworks show. “So… was this the secret project you and Mom were working on?”

My father chuckled. “This is the secret project that you are working on. Depending on how well this scene turns out, I’ll have the NDA in your room by the morning. From this point on, I’ll refer to it by the codename ‘Bravely Blue’ in all future discussions, public or private. What’d ya say, Twily?”

“Only if I’m listed as a full on consulting creative director.”

“Sweetie,” my father grinned. “I’ll make you the director if this goes well.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, of course not, but I really do need the help.”

“So what’s this scene?” It took all my self-control not to bounce up and down like an excitable kid at the realization that I was working on the film adaptation of Daring Do and the Sapphire Stone. “No, wait. I know. It’s the opening scene where Daring talks her way onto a lead for the Sapphire Stone!”

“That’s exactly the one,” my father beamed.

“It’s exactly how I had it in my mind, right down the fountain in the shape of the Stone… the scarlet carpet with the gold, heart-shaped accents—even the diamond shaped napkin holders!” I bent over and stuck my head into the miniature building, inspecting every single awe inspiring detail.

“I had the model set approved by Yearling herself when she came over.”

I lost all self-control at the comment. “You mean she was here… today?”

“Yeah, she’s in your mother’s book club.”

“She’s…” At this point, I was weak in the knees, and I had to grip the table for support. “C-can I meet her?”

“You’ve already met,” my father answered nonchalantly, straightening a miniature dining table until it was placed perfectly in the desired shot. “She was the one who personally gave you a first edition copy of Sapphire Stone at your sixth birthday party. Of course, that was before she blew up in the literary world and became a virtual recluse.”

“T-that was h-her?” I was salivating, my mind completely blown by the information bomb. “And I’m just hearing this now?”

“Maybe we should work on the scene later—”

“No! Now!”

“Alrighty then, Twily. Give it a go.”

Before I even was ready, I was at the creative helm of Daring Do and the Sapphire Stone. I just had to say it again to make sure it was real. Somewhere in its credits, my name would come up.

I nearly fainted at the thought.

“So if this is Daring,” I said, looking over the other plastic figure in the set, “this must be—”

“Dr. Cabelleron,” my father answered with a light chuckle. “Of course—”

“—We don’t know it’s him until Razor of Dreams, where he makes his full debut as an antagonist.”

“Exactly,” my father said with short laugh. “So it’s the opening scene where—”

I was breathing heavily. “I know the one, Dad. So! In this scene, Daring had an escape route handy because she knew she was being set up. The owners also happened to owe her a favor, so she made a codeword and preparations with the staff in case she needed the escape.”

“Uh-huh,” was my dad’s reply. His focus entirely on me and the notepad in his hands.

“You could set it up like a dance. After all, Daring’s escape codeword was ‘Tango.’”

“Go on.”

I jumped forward and grabbed the figurines. Thinking about it for a moment, I brought Daring to the center table and held the other figure a short distance away.

“So the conversation plays out like this: Daring is sitting down, sipping her drink, while Dr. Caballeron is standing, lecturing, droning, seemingly in control—leading the dance.”

I brought them both to the model table. “So then Caballeron sits down, and they’re both on an equal playing field. This is where the momentum shifts and Daring starts to lead the dance. She pries the information from him and says the line, ‘it takes two to tango,’ and then she makes her escape through the chaos caused by her plan. You could even have the music be a calm, suave tango to juxtapose the anarchy with how composed Daring is.”

My father raised his eyebrow, “And how will we shoot the escape?”

“A tracking, slowed down, heavily-chaotic long uncut take following Daring. We can get really good fight choreographer and stunt people, considering the property.”

“A long take? For this scene? Those things are crazy to shoot. Just one mistake can set back filming for days.”

“Trust me, Dad. The audience will love the commitment and attention to detail, especially if it’s made obvious this early.”

My father nodded. “I’ll tell Yearling about the scene. I’m just sure she’ll love it.” He grabbed a pencil and began to write down what I had just gushed about for the past few minutes.

I felt my heart swell up with pride. “Thanks, Dad! You don’t know how much you’ve made my day. I’ve just been so anxious and worried about my date tomorrow.”

Surprised, my father dropped his pencil, and it hit the ground with a resounding click.

Author's Note

"Psychological stress will have deleterious effects on the health and well-being of those with no social support while these effects will be lessened or eliminated for those with stronger support systems." [X]

Control Theory
View Online

The Sunlight Theory

Control Theory

All it took was a simple text message from Sunset Shimmer to send my mind into hyperdrive. The message wasn’t even that complicated. It was just a simple “On my way,” but this caused me to suddenly forget how to walk, think, or even breathe.

Okay.

Left foot, right foot.

Left lung… wait.

Aside from my legs being just a tad sturdier than jelly, I felt like I was ready.

I rushed down the stairs, gripping the handrail so hard that I felt my hands burn from the friction. My parents sat on the dinner table, carefully dissecting the paper in front of them. They were in full concentration mode, and I was sure that nothing was going to break their focus.

“Hey, Mom, Dad, date’s here—gotta go—bye!”

“Hold on now, young lady,” my father called.

I stopped. “Yes, father?”

He smiled, and waved for me to come over. “Give him a chance to be chivalrous and come to the door himself.”

I probably should have mentioned I’m gay.

“Actually…” I trailed off. That was when I noticed the sheet of paper, a list of actresses with pros and cons next to each name. “Wait, are you guys working on Bravely Blue?”

“Have a seat,” my mother spoke up, tapping on the dining chair next to her. “We need a little help, so we’re consulting our Consulting Creative Director.”

“Y’know,” my dad hummed. “I’ve been in the business for nearly thirty years, and I’m still not sure if it’s a real position.”

“It’s the consulting part,” my mom teased. “You can just add it to anything and pretend it’s a real job.”

“Be easy on her, dear,” Dad chuckled. “She actually helps. Like now, for instance. We’ve pretty much got everyone cast. Well, everyone but Daring. Yearling tossed out our list.” My father chewed at his own pen and tapped the metallic tip against his chin.

I thought about it for a minute. I had a shortlist of people I thought would be good, but now that I was on the spot, my mind was suddenly drawing a blank. “How about Coloratura? She was good in The Main Attraction.”

My mother sighed, “She was, but her tour’s when we start shooting.”

“Of course, just our luck that the one pop star who can act is unavailable,” he grumbled. Frustrated, he furrowed his brows slightly before he crossed out something on the paper.

“How about Wild Fire?” I asked. “Critic’s darling, best actress nominated, and she just wrapped up on Ne’er Do Well. Do you think we can get her?”

Mother perked up and exchanged a quick glance with my father. She looked down at her list and then to the paper in front of my dad. Seemingly satisfied, she clicked her tongue before writing the name down. “Uh, I think so. I can give her a call and bring her in to screen test with Time Turner.”

Father nodded. “Good, go ahead and do that; set it up for next week. But for now, we’ll put her down as a maybe.”

“Great work, Twilight,” my mother commented. “Give it another five or so years, and we can talk about getting the consulting part removed.”

Although it was a joke, it was yet another one of my parents’ hardly subtle attempts at getting me to follow in their footsteps. Sure, I had some fun working with them, but I preferred to pursue science. The two often made joking comments that I was the one girl on the planet who’d rather be an engineer than an actress.

The kicker was that an acting career was actually a valid option thanks to the magic of nepotism.

There was a knock at the door, and every bit of confidence I thought I had disappeared. Sunset Shimmer was outside, and we were about to go out on our first date. I had to repeat that statement several times in my head for it to finally register.

Brought back to reality, I jumped from my seat and made my way over to the door.

“Wait,” my mother said, grabbing my arm. “Let me answer the door. It’s tradition that the parent always answers.”

This was a less than ideal situation.

Not wanting to disobey, I did what I was told—albeit reluctantly—and sat at the table.

I gritted my teeth as I heard the door click open.

“Oh, hello,” Sunset greeted. “You must be Mrs...”

“Velvet,” my mom answered. “And you must be my little Twily’s date.”

This was worse than I ever thought it could be.

Sunset chuckled. “Twily, huh? Cute.”

Just kill me now.

“Oh!”

I knew that tone. It was the exact same lilt my mother had when Cadence came over for my brother Shining’s first date.

That hadn’t ended well.

“Where are my manners?” my mother asked rhetorically. “Come in… my, forgive me for not asking your name…”

“Sunset Shimmer,” she answered with a polite smile.

“Oh, what a lovely name. Come in!” My mother turned toward me. “Twily, your date’s here!”

“Hello,” my father greeted. “Twilight and I were just talking about the movie you’re going to tonight. Y’know, I met the director in a coffeeshop on Second Street. I’m not into the whole superhero thing, but the film looks promising given—”

“We should probably get going,” I cut in.

“Surely you can stay for just a little. Have a seat.” My stomach dropped as I heard him tap against the dining chair.

Nauseous, I tugged at my turtleneck, immediately regretting my choice of attire because now it felt suffocating.

Sunset took a seat next to me. “Hi.” There was a slight hesitance in her voice.

“Hello,” I forced out.

“I wasn’t aware that Twilight liked girls,” my father commented. “Then again, I didn’t think she liked anyone.”

Sunset laughed, a little awkwardly this time. “I could say the same. I was a little surprised when I found out… especially when I found out she liked me.”

My parents both laughed, but I just stared down at the table.

Why am I letting this happen?

“That’s our Twily, alright,” my mother hummed. “Always unable to assert herself until it’s too late.”

“You’re telling me,” Sunset said, her tone a lot more comfortable than before.

My mother laughed. “Oh, Nighty, remember the dress? Go get the picture, Hon. I’ll tell Sunset the story.”

Before I could stop my parents, my dad jumped up from the table and went over to grab a small picture frame off the wall. He came back and handed the photo off to my mom.

My mother brandished the picture. “Our little Twily was adamant to have constellations on her Miss Summer Sun Pageant dress, and then she threw a fit when Orion’s belt had four stars instead of three.”

Well… that was true, but that was the least of the dress’ problems.

I’m also hilariously unphotogenic. I mentioned that, right? The braces and the baby fat didn’t help either.

“My,” Sunset wheezed, politely holding back a laugh. “That… certainly is a dress.”

“Oh, don’t be so polite,” my father dismissed. “It’s terrible.”

“Hey!” I chirped, my face heating up. “We should probably get going now.”

My mom only chuckled. “What’s the rush? You said the movie doesn’t start until seven-thirty, and I made that ricotta bucatini you love. I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

Oh, that’s low, Mother. She knew I was going to order that at the Bianca Bistro like I did all the time. Knowing her, she probably called in and got the exact recipe. Then I’d have to get something else, or else I’d look like a jerk.

Plus, staying at home and having dinner with my parents was probably the worst idea in the history of mankind.

Sunset perked up. “That sounds—”

“Whelp!” I cut in, “It’s really unfortunate that I already made reservations—that sounds delicious, but we’d better get going. Bye, Mom and Dad. Don’t forget to save me some leftovers!”

Seeing this as the only opportunity to get out, I grabbed Sunset by the hand and led her out the front door.

“They seem nice,” Sunset said, stuffing her newly freed hands into her leather jacket’s pockets.

I only hummed in agreement because I knew that if I opened my mouth, I would have no control over the rambling excuses. Forcing myself to forget the previous events, I followed Sunset down the path and hesitated as she hopped onto the motorcycle.

All this planning and preparation and I still felt like I wasn’t ready. I took a large, reassuring breath and joined Sunset on the bike seat, holding onto her tightly.

Although I knew that the accident had been my fault, I still felt uneasy as we sped down the road.

Sunset stopped at a red light and turned to face me. “Hey, Twilight.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you were a pageant girl.” Without another word, Sunset sped off the second the light turned green.

I had survived swerving the motorcycle once before. Surely it wouldn’t hurt if I just...

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“So you won anyway, despite that awful dress?”

“Yup,” I answered, taking a sip from a cup of water. “I swept the talent and the Q and A portions. Apparently, they’ve never actually seen a concise answer to solving world hunger. It was, and I quote, ‘economic, tactful, and well-thought-out.’”

“Twilight Sparkle, ending world hunger at the tender age of nine.”

I laughed. “Well, they haven’t really implemented it.”

“I’m curious,” Sunset said. “What did you say?”

I chewed on an ice cube. “It’s nothing, really. I just proposed that we subsidize local producers to donate ‘ugly’ fruits and vegetables to local food banks. Perfectly edible, ‘ugly’ food was wasted because they were ‘unsellable’ due to our arbitrary aesthetic requirements for produce. A simple two-cent tax on unhealthy soft drinks could also easily pay for the subsidies that cover the packaging cost most farmers couldn’t afford.”

“Wow.”

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away.” Sheepishly, I tugged at my turtleneck again, feeling the temperature in the room suddenly spike.

“No, no,” Sunset said. “It’s totally cool.”

According to The Big Book of Body Language, the date was going okay so far. There was sufficient eye contact, and Sunset’s body language tended to be open. She only crossed her arms once, and that was to emphasize how cold she was after the maître d' insisted on taking her jacket.

Things were going well, and I could go as far to say that I was feeling comfortable. I was, quite literally, in my element. My parents were close friends with the proprietors, which meant the staff knew who I was. That’s how I was able to call in a favor for a reservation.

“Ah, Miss Sparkle—nice to see that you’re dining with us again,” the waiter said, passing over a pair of menus. “Would you like your usual prepared? The ricotta bucatini?”

“N-no!” I stammered, “I think I’ll try something new this time.”

I swear, if my mother called to ask him to say that…

Calm down, Twilight. You’re just being paranoid. Your mother’s not out to embarrass you anymore. Just pick up the menu and look through it like any normal person would. Who knows—maybe you’ll find something you’d never thought you’d like.

Maybe throwing caution to the wind at a moment like this could be the spark of spontaneity that turns things around.

“Eheh... what would you recommend?” I asked, pretending to flip through the menu..

“Well, the bucatini is one of ou—”

“Besides that,” I cut in.

“Maybe you could try—”

“I trust your judgement,” I interrupted. Wanting to end the conversation, I pushed the foldable menu back and looked up at my date. “What about you, Sunset?”

The girl in question only shrugged and passed over the menu. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

This could either go one of two ways. The first would be that we have two perfectly wonderful meals that would eventually serve as a conversation topic during the dinner. The other involved forced smiles, dishonest praise for the food, and a bathroom trip that would never end due to my leaving via the bathroom window.

I was one-hundred percent ready for the latter. Thanks to the aforementioned benefits of knowing the owners of the restaurant and a certain spark of creativity from helping my dad, I had a contingency plan in case anything major went wrong.

With the codeword, “kiosk,” a busboy would come over and spill a glass of water on me and, more notably, my clothes. Following the flurry of staged apologies, I’d excuse myself to the bathroom and disappear into the night forever. Then, using the bus ticket I had pre-purchased online, I would move to Manehattan with my aunt and uncle under the new alias “Twilight Twinkle.”

It was a plan that would make Yearling herself proud, considering that it lived up to the unofficial series mantra of “What would Daring Do?”

Of course, since the universe loves to let a good plan go to waste, none of that ended up needing to happen.

What a shame. I was beginning to warm up to Twilight Twinkle.

“The gnocchi’s really good,” Sunset said, “The tomato sauce has just the right amount of kick to it.”

“No kidding.” I picked at the pasta with my fork. “It’s not my favorite, but I couldn’t gnocchi-t until I tried it.”

She didn’t laugh.

The word “kiosk” also came into mind.

The universe and the dinner carried on in spite of the failed joke, and I decided it was better to keep the food puns off the table… starting now.

I spun my fork through the spaghetti, my server’s safe yet agreeable choice for the main course. The string quartet played off in the distance and I began to feel a bit more relaxed now that I shifted the conversation away from the food itself.

“So, I’m curious. Have you, by any chance, read the Daring Do series?”

Sunset’s face lit up at the mention. “You've read those? I loved those books as a filly.”

Filly. For a moment, I had forgotten that Sunset was a trans-dimensional unicorn. Six-year-old me would be jumping in her seat. Not only was I dating a unicorn, but said unicorn was also proof of the Multiverse Theory.

“So, was Daring a pony back in…”

“Equestria, and yeah, she was a pegasus.”

“Oh, cool,” I said. “Though wouldn’t Daring just be able to fly her way out of everything?”

Sunset chuckled. “Oh, yeah, but Yearling usually finds a way to write around it. In books three and four, Daring was nursing a broken wing.”

“That’s so weird. She did the same with her left arm. That was also when she switched dominant—”

“Wings and started using a whip,” Sunset finished. “Sorry. I’m dorking out right now.”

“No, it’s fine. Dork away,” I said, taking another drink of water. “So… who is it?”

“What?”

“Dream casting.” I put the cup down. “Come on, everybody has someone in mind to play Daring. Y’know, in case they ever made a movie.”

Sunset clicked her tongue. “Well, I guess someone like Spitfire. She’s been my celeb crush both here and in Equestria.”

That was actually not a bad fancasting—Spitfire was fourth on my list. The Wonderbolts captain had the charisma and athleticism to tackle the role, plus she had the name recognition to bring in an audience. It also didn't hurt that she often played a healthy amount of supporting roles, but I still had doubts on whether she could carry a massive film franchise as the lead. And as far as I knew, her name wasn't on either of my parents’ casting sheets. Maybe she was just the person we needed.

I also couldn’t help but be a little curious at the mention of her home dimension.

“I never really got the chance to ask what it was like… you know, in Equestria… and how you got here, of all places.”

Sunset took a long drink from her cup. “It’s a long story. Maybe some other time.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Not a good sign; crossed arms mean that a person is closed off. It was one of the easier bits of body language to read, but it was also one you didn’t want to see. I gritted my teeth and attempted to think of an out.

“So how about them Clydesdales?” I asked, changing the subject.

“How ‘bout them?”

That was as far as I had planned. I was grasping at straws at this point. I was behind in the count, against the ropes, or any other string of sports metaphors. Love, at the moment, was a game.

And I wasn’t very good at it.

When it was all said and done, the dinner was fine. Not good, not great, and definitely not stellar—just fine. We skipped dessert, deciding the ice cream after the movie would be enough. Of course, the next problem was the bill.

“No, no, I got it,” I said, pulling out my wallet from my purse.

“Come on, at least let me get the tip.”

The jury was still out on who was supposed to pay for the first date. Some sources argued that the parties involved pay for what they ordered individually, but others stated that the the person who initiated the date should be the one to pay. Or, at the very least, offer to pay. It would then be up to the invited to decide on whether or not to split.

I wasn’t sure why there was no clear answer to who pays for the date. The only thing I could think of was that it started a very low-stakes argument, which could determine how well the couple can deal with a difference in agendas in the future.

“You already drove me here,” I countered. “It’s the least I can do.”

Not willing to take no for an answer, Sunset paid her half of the bill and stared back at me with a look that dared me to oppose it. The slight smirk and the wink was enough to tell me that the argument was over.

“So, do you have the tickets?” Sunset asked, slipping on her leather jacket.

“Nah, I have the confirmation code on my phone. I’m just going to print it out at the kiosk when we get there.”

The thing about contingency plans is that you’ll probably need a contingency plan in case of a misfire.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset, being the amazing person she was, let me wear her leather jacket after my turtleneck had been reduced to a sopping mess. Somehow, the busboy forgot that it was supposed to be water. It was actually kind of surprising how much soda, wine, and a little bit of tomato sauce could soak through clothes.

The date was a trainwreck so far but I figured there was no way to mess up sitting in front of a screen for two hours.

I kept my hands stuffed in Sunset’s jacket, attempting to keep warm as we walked up the steps leading to the movie theater. Thankfully, the ride there was short, and at least Sunset seemed to be in better spirits than I was. The date was alive—horribly disfigured, but alive and salvageable.

There was also the ice cream to look forward to.

We took our seats in what I believed to be the optimal seats for getting the best screen-to-theater ratio. This was also the first time I took a full breath since the whole “kiosk” incident.

“Hey, do you want anything from the concessions?” I asked, dropping my bag in the chair.

“Could you get me some jelly beans, please?”

I nodded and stuck out my thumb like an overeager Girl Scout. “You got it, dude.”

The faint smell of buttered popcorn was warm, enticing, and always led to the concession stand full of criminally overpriced treats. The rational part of me knew that movie theater chains made most of their profits from the food rather than ticket sales, but I couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit annoyed.

“It’s the experience,” my father would say. “Nothing beats a sharing silver screen, a gallon of soda, and a bucket of popcorn with your best girl.”

Of course said bucket of popcorn carried a 1,275% markup with it.

I stood in line and toyed with my phone to pass the time. Apparently, The Elements had moved from an eighty-nine percent approval to eighty-seven. The two percent drop, while small, made me even more anxious.

When I got to the front, I dug into my pockets. “Uh, can I get a box of jelly beans, medium popcorn, and a small soda?”

“I don’t know,” the guy behind the counter said, an amused grin on his face. “Can you?”

I gritted my teeth but quickly realized that this was most likely his only hope of entertainment for the night. Simply ignoring it and dropping a handful of money on the counter seemed like the best, non-confrontational course of action.

The clerk picked through the money. “You’re five short. It’s twenty-five sixteen.”

Starswirl on a bike! That’s expensive.

I dug in my pocket and dropped another five on the stack.

“Enjoy your movie.”

“You too,” I said, immediately realizing my mistake. The guy behind the counter snickered before depositing the cash in the register.

“You too,” he mumbled under his breath.

Trying to forget the exchange, I walked into the still-lit theater. I looked up to the aisles, noticing some boy roughly my age sitting right next to Sunset. Her arms were crossed and she had her feet on top of the seat in front of her. Even I didn’t need a whole book on body language to figure out that she wasn’t the least bit interested in the conversation.

I made my way over to the top and the boy caught sight of me.

“Is he bothering you?” I asked, attempting to sound cool as I placed the drink in a cupholder.

“Nope, not really,” Sunset dismissed nonchalantly. “Meet my girlfriend, Twilight.”

My heart skipped a beat. Girlfriend?

The color drained from the boys face. “G-girlfriend?”

Sunset chuckled. “Yep. You never had a chance, buddy.”

“Y-you lead me on!”

“Nah, I just sat here. It’s you who tried to flirt.”

Indignant, the boy balled his hands into fists and stormed off.

“What was that all about?” I asked, taking my seat next to Sunset.

“I dunno,” she said while reaching for the box of candy. “I guess some people can’t take a hint.”

She popped a jelly bean into her mouth as the lights dimmed. As the previews played, I found myself unable to really focus on them. Instead, I kept wondering if Sunset’s use of the word “girlfriend” was legitimate or just something she said to get the guy to back off.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset jammed her spoon into her ice cream. “The villain was probably my favorite part.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. The first movie was a solid stepping stone, but I’m glad I was finally able to see Discord on the silver screen. I wasn’t disappointed.”

“There was a first?” Sunset asked.

“Oh yeah, it was cute, tightly paced, and pretty funny, but I don’t think it had much staying power. But I will admit that it was definitely better than it had any right to be. The sequel on the other hand…”

“The best,” Sunset cheered, swirling her ice cream with the plastic spoon.

“Well, yeah. It definitely rehashes some ideas from the first, but at least it’s trying something new.”

“Do you think there will be a third?”

“Doubt it,” I said, taking a rather large spoonful of chocolate ice cream. “Unless it does really well at the box office.”

I broke into a coughing fit.

“Oh, horseapples! Are you okay, Twilight?”

“I’m fine,” I answered with a gasping wheeze.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

When Sunset got to my place, I realized that still wanted to be with her despite all the catastrophes that went on during the date. When she stopped at the driveway, I was still holding on to her, not wanting to let go.

“It’s getting pretty late,” she said as she helped me off the bike.

I nodded, failing to hide my eager smile. With a short bounce in my step, I let Sunset walk me to the front door, and we were standing under the dim porch light.

In all the movies and in all the shows, the characters discussed a short review of the date and ultimately decided whether the relationship would continue on. It was the moment of truth, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious. But still, holding Sunset’s hand kept me calm.

We were smiling, almost basking in the moment. After everything, the world was still spinning, and Sunset and I were okay. We stood out in the porch, both silent as neither of us wanted to be the first to speak.

It started with a stifled chortle, which grew with a hesitant giggle, and finally we exploded into a fit of laughter.

“That was…” Sunset trailed off.

“A disaster,” I finished.

“It was... interesting—but a good interesting,” she said with a breathy chuckle. “I had fun, Twilight.”

“I did too.” I felt my heart flutter. “D-do you think we can... do it again?”

“In your dreams,” she said. Not sure what to think, I stared down at my shoes. Her face flared in surprise, and she bit her lip. “I meant that in the sense that we’re going to bed soon.”

“Oh.”

There was a short lull, and we just stood there, not knowing what to say, not wanting to acknowledge the inevitable.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, hesitantly, under her breath.

I nodded. “Goodnight.”

The moment was perfect. It was a cool, breezy night and we were under the glow of the moon and stars, the soft hum of Sunset’s motorcycle in the distance. She was smiling, inching in closer, leaning forward.

It was perfect...

Up until I shook her hand and ducked inside the safety of my house.

Author's Note

“We have a deep need for control that itself, paradoxically, controls much of our lives. The endless effort to control can lead us to be miserable as we fail in this impossible task of trying to control everything and everyone around us.” [X]

Symbolic Interactionism
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The Sunlight Theory

Symbolic Interactionism

“You shook her hand?!”

Somehow, Rarity’s emphasis on the word “shook” made it seem like I had personally attacked her.

“I shook her hand,” I repeated, staring sheepishly at the ground.

Out of nowhere, Rarity collapsed, her fall broken by Rainbow Dash and Applejack, both visibly annoyed at the fashionista’s melodramatic display of shock.

“This is bad!” Rarity shrieked as the two lifted her back up. “You can’t just end a date on a handshake!”

She kept talking, but her words began to blur until they faded away into the background. For some inexplicable reason, the scuff on my left shoe seemed like the most interesting thing in the world. My dad had a shoe-cleaning kit somewhere in the garage, and I made a mental note to ask him for it when I got home.

“Twilight, are you even listening to me?”

My head snapped back up, and Rarity rolled her eyes.

“Sorry,” I said. “I was just thinking.”

It wasn’t a lie. I was thinking, but I figured omitting the rest was the best course of action.

The fashionista’s eyes flared. “Just thinking? Just thinking! You’re gonna need more than thinking, if you want to make this up to Sunset.” She was on the verge of fainting again before Applejack intervened and brought her to the nearest chair.

Rarity’s boutique, which was really just her parent’s guest room, was a small, cramped workshop. Broken-down mannequins lined the walls, and rolls of fabrics were tossed in a corner to make room for the rest of the Rainbooms.

“Quit bein’ such a drama queen, Rare,” Applejack scolded. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Rarity asked. “Not even serenading Sunset with a boombox belting ‘In Your Eyes’ is going to fix this.”

“Oh come on. I know I‘ve done worse on first dates!” Pinkie piped up, jumping into the conversation. “I think I might have even kissed the guy one time!”

Applejack crossed her arms. “That’s exactly the problem, Pinkie. Twilight didn’t kiss Sunset. She didn’t even hug her.”

“Oh,” the party girl hummed. “Well, was it a friendly ‘I’m not interested’ handshake, or was it an ‘I’m investing in our relationship; here’s to being business partners’ handshake?”

“W-what?” I stammered. “I don’t know. How can you even tell?”

Rainbow Dash cackled. “Well, was Sunset a limp fish or did she have a clammy palm when you shook her hand?”

“Neither,” I answered. “She had a firm, dry grip.”

Apparently, that was a joke. I only found that out when Rainbow snorted and added, “So, what was the commission on the timeshare you sold Sunset?”

“It’s not funny, Rainbow,” the farm girl scolded. She turned back to me, looking past a mannequin statue in the way. “Twi, all ya have to do is tell her how you feel.”

“Easier said than done,” I said under my breath.

Fluttershy leaned in and brought her hand to my shoulder. “I’m pretty sure Sunset will understand that you were probably just nervous.”

“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “I guess you’re right.”

It was simple, really, but I couldn’t help but still feel reluctant. I just didn’t know what to tell her. Articulating my feelings wasn’t my strong suit, and I really only opened up to other people when I was backed into a corner.

“We can talk to her and ask her how she felt about it.” Rarity offered, coming down from her hysterical panic. “We won’t mention anything you told us, but Sunset’s probably in the same situation you’re in. So, as her friends, we need to support her too.”

“Yeah!” Pinkie cheered. “I just have to know how one of my bestest friends in the whole world thought about going on a date with one of my other bestest friends in the world!” She bounced up on the platforms of her feet, and her smile grew exponentially. “I never thought I’d see the day where my girl friends become girlfriends!”

I chuckled, letting Pinkie’s extreme optimism lift my spirits a little.

“Just promise us that you’ll actually talk to Sunset Shimmer openly,” Rarity said. “We all know what happened last time you refused to voice your feelings.”

I nodded and winced at the thought, instinctively rotating my ankle.

“I’ll try,” I said hesitantly.

Rarity, noticing the slight waver in my voice, inched closer.

“Hey, Twilight,” she said gently. “You shouldn’t feel so sorry for yourself. It’s bad for your complexion.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“You shook her hand?!”

I must have really screwed up.

“I’ll get the boom box,” Lemon Zest announced as she slid off from the bed in her dorm. Slipping on her shoes, she turned to the group of girls in the room. “Hey, Indy, does your dad still have the ride-on lawnmower?”

Indigo Zap shrugged. “Probably.”

Sugarcoat, sitting off across from me on a swivel chair, simply scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You guys watch too many movies.”

“And you don’t watch enough,” Indigo shot back.

“Do you really think re-enacting eighties movies is the right thing to do?” Sugarcoat sat up straight and crossed her arms. “Like, what if she doesn’t get the reference? All Twilight’s gonna do is look like an idiot holding a boombox while riding on a lawnmower.”

“Given that she doesn’t drop it or crash into a wall first,” Sour Sweet added.

Thinking about what Sugarcoat just said, I realized that Sunset probably hasn’t even seen either Say Anything or Can’t Buy Me Love, something that I’d have to fix myself—unless they also had versions of those movies in Equestria. I let out an amused huff as the name Neigh Anything came into mind.

The others were still arguing about the merits of recreating coming of age films, so I coughed loudly and brought attention to the fact that I was still in the room. The rest of the Shadowbolts, pausing their argument, turned to me and smiled sheepishly.

“Look,” Sugarcoat continued. “What Twilight needs to do is simple: just sit down and talk about her feelings in a constructive and meaningful way like any adult would.”

Easier said than done, I thought.

“Thanks, Mom,” snorted Indigo. “Are you going to supervise her playdate too?”

“Fight me,” Sugarcoat quipped.

“You wanna go?”

Before the two could actually make a move, Sunny Flare butted in. “As much as I’d love to see you two flail around, we’re here to help Twilight, remember?”

The two girls turned their attention toward me again and nodded sheepishly.

“Have you talked to her since?” Sugarcoat asked.

I shook my head.

“Did she try to contact you?”

I nodded.

“Did you say anything back?”

I shook my head and immediately winced. From their reactions, I didn’t need to guess that I had made the wrong decision.

“Yeah…” Sunny Flare sighed. “You’re gonna want to talk to her.”

Anxious, I stared at the wall. “B-but…”

“I know what’s going on,” Sugarcoat announced. Abruptly, she stood up and made her way toward me. Without hesitating, she sat next to me. “I get it. You’re afraid of screwing things up. You get tense and curl up into a fetal position like the one you’re in right now.”

“I’m… not…” I looked to the ground and quickly realized that I was hugging my knees. “Okay, fine.”

“You’re shutting yourself off because you’re afraid of getting the big rejection when you know you’re so close.” Sugarcoat paused, most likely to phrase her next words. “All you have to do is go for it and let her know you still like her.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “You’re right.”

Sugarcoat huffed. “And will you quit feeling sorry for yourself?”

“It’s bad for your complexion,” Lemon Zest added, holding back a laugh at the reference of another eighties film—Sixteen Candles, the exact same movie and line Rarity had recited.

“Can you not?” Sugarcoat snapped.

I thought about what Sugarcoat said. Her verbal lashing was all true—it hurt, but she had a point. Admittedly, the psychoanalysis made me feel more self-conscious, but it definitely gave me a starting point to make myself better.

It was my own nervous energy that caused this whole problem to begin with. I just needed to admit it, move on, and hopefully be able to talk to Sunset Shimmer without falling apart.

I bit the side of my cheek. “Why can’t my life play out like an eighties teen romance?”

Sugarcoat chuckled. “‘Cause this is real life, and it doesn’t wrap up neatly in an hour and a half. Plus, the people in those movies have a team of writers behind them.”

“Well, mine are out to spite me,” I groaned.

Sighing, I let go of my knees and moved to a lying position. Not really knowing what to do, I stared at the ceiling. It took some serious thought, but I had finally resolved to talk to Sunset when school started up in two days. But still, I needed to figure out how to make it up to her.

“Have you figured out what to do?” Indigo asked.

Sitting up to face her, I shook my head. “Not exactly, but I’ll think of something.”

“Twilight,” Sour Sweet called soothingly. She inched closer and brought a reassuring hand to my shoulder. “You know, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away to Mexicolt.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

For some reason, Cadance’s house managed to capture the warm, cozy feeling of a grandmother’s home while still having the modern interior design and amenities of the twenty-first century. It may have had something to do with the bowl of hard candy on the coffee table, the fact that tea was always brewing, or maybe it was because of the porcelain unicorns littered around the living room.

I also couldn't really explain why I felt more comfortable there than in my own room.

I sank deep into the absurdly soft sofa, knowing full well that I’d have to be pulled out by force when it was time to go home. Cadance was off in the kitchen, tending to the perpetually brewing tea while humming a show tune to herself.

The phone in my pocket vibrated. As expected, Rarity had sent me a text.

“She said she had fun, but she really wants to talk with you.”

I stared at the message, rereading it over and over. I sent her, “Anything else?” but Rarity’s responses after that didn’t really help much. She probably kept the same promise of secrecy with Sunset like she did with me, and I couldn’t ask her to play favorites. Still, I couldn’t help but wish I was in the room when they talked.

Suddenly feeling anxious, I toyed around with my phone, visiting the Cute Critter Corner page on MyStable as an escape from my whole blunder at the end of my first date. A video of bathing baby sloths was exactly what I needed to get my mind off things.

But even still, I’d have to talk to Sunset eventually.

Or I could get another bus ticket. Running away wasn’t really in my mind after the whole “Kiosk Incident,” but Sour Sweet’s suggestion had made it seem like a viable option. Although instead of Mexicolt, I’d still rather go to Manehattan, where I had family and a place to stay.

In the end, I decided to put everything off to watch a herd of cows play in the sun, nuzzling the grass after a winter spent inside a barn.

Cadance shuffled in and carefully set down the tray of tea onto the coffee table.

“So, how’s life, Twilight?” she asked, joining me on the couch.

I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“Twilight,” she called softly. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really.”

She nodded and grabbed a cup from the table. Taking a sip, she hummed skeptically. “You do realize I was your babysitter and your guidance counselor before I became a dean? I can tell when you’re upset.”

I clicked on another video and sunk deeper into the couch, hoping to disappear completely.

Scooting closer, Cadance peered over my shoulder. “Are those baby pigs? Is it really that bad?”

“Look, they’re running an obstacle course,” I said feebly, passing over my phone in an attempt to change the subject.

“Twilight,” she said sternly. “You’re dodging my questions.”

“This one’s playing with a puppy.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No thanks.”

Cadance sighed. “I’ll buy you a little piglet if you tell me.”

I scoffed. “I’ve done the research. They’re huge when they grow up and ridiculously expensive.”

“The offer still stands.”

I chuckled halfheartedly and let the conversation fade out from there. Cadance, ever so patient, stayed with me, sipping her tea. After a minute or so of uncomfortable silence, she stood up from the couch and left the room. She came back, holding a rather large picture book.

“Well,” she started, “if I can’t help you with your problems, maybe you can help with mine.”

Falling back onto the sofa, Cadance flipped over to a marked page. There were several assortments of flowers printed on it, along with their names, scientific genus, and their symbolic meanings. On the top of the page was the phrase, “Wedding Flowers,” written in metallic blue.

“Is this for the bouquet?” I asked.

“The centerpieces, actually,” she answered. “I’m going traditional and getting a bouquet of roses for the bouquet.” She passed over the book. “Here, point out what catches your eye.”

“Neat.” I thumbed through the following pages.

I pointed toward a group of pink peonies, part of the Paeoniaceae family. Its symbolic meaning revolves around a prosperous, happy marriage, so it seemed like the best fit.

“These are cute,” I remarked superficially. “They’re also going to be in season in the summer.”

“Good call,” she said, reaching for a marker and circling the picture. “Maybe I should bring you on as a consulting wedding planner.”

Ignoring her teasing laugh, I rolled my eyes and sunk back into the couch. “Did my parents tell you about that?”

“Yes, yes they did,” she said, an amused smile forming on her lips. “Your mother also told me you fell for the ‘parent always answers the door’ trick.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She leaned over and jerked my shoulder playfully. “Come on, Twily. You were there when she pulled that on Shining. You should’ve known better.”

“I know.”

“Although,” she started, “I’m kind of glad she did that back then.”

I clawed myself out from the couch’s depths. “What? Why? She did nothing but embarrass everyone involved.”

“At the moment, yes,” she admitted. “But afterward, I realized that she did it to break the ice.”

“With a jackhammer,” I muttered under my breath.

“True, but it was still broken nonetheless.” She toyed around with her engagement ring. “Plus, she gave us something real to talk about. I don’t know what we would have talked about if it wasn’t for the video of your brother’s third-grade band concert.”

In that moment, my mother had ascended from plain evil to an evil genius. I remembered sitting on the couch when Cadance showed up for their first date. My mother sat her down and put on the video, and I watched both Cadance’s amusement and Shining’s utter horror at every cracked note his younger self made.

Little did I know that my mom was planning the same thing for me at the time.

The fact that the picture of my pageant dress actually sparked a conversation made me unsure whether to include my mother in any future relationship problems.

I thought about what she was saying. “How was your first date with my brother?”

“Terrible,” she answered abruptly, laughing a bit afterward. “But I wouldn’t change a single moment.”

I wondered if Sunset was thinking the same thing. It was a possibility, especially since most of the embarrassing events were at my expense. But still, I had to make up for the handshake.

It had to be something personal, meaningful, something that says both “I’m sorry” and “I am still interested in dating you.”

As if fate took mercy on me, the exact answer was right under my nose.

Like, literally under my nose.

I looked down at the book in my hands, almost kicking myself at how obvious it was. Flowers are a staple gift for people in relationships. How did I not think of it?

Say It with Flowerswas a book that detailed the hidden symbolism of flowers and many other plants. This was the sort of thing I could get behind. It was personal yet indirect, which I quickly realized was my style of communication. Plus, I could voice my feelings without actually voicing them.

For example, roses had the most meanings attached to them, having different representations based on both color and number. A single rose meant devotion, two (intertwined) meant “marry me,” six was the need to be loved, and thirteen meant a secret admirer.

If only I knew the last meaning a month ago.

At first, I considered getting Sunset a rose, but that thought quickly spiraled into a circle of doubt; I couldn’t decide on the color. Red, meaning love, was the obvious choice, but it could be interpreted as desperate or clingy on my part. Yellow symbolized friendship, but in Victorian times it represented jealousy. The last thing I wanted was some sort of miscommunication.

The abundance of choices made it hard to decide. Plus roses had a deeply romantic meaning that carried too much weight behind them. I couldn’t risk scaring her away if she accidentally interpreted a rose as a declaration of love right after the first date.

Examining the book again, I decided it was best to research it some more and give it some real thought before I committed to putting my heart out there.

“Hey, Cadance,” I called, holding up the book for her to see. “Can I borrow this?”

She nodded. “Of course—I’m all done with it. The only reason I kept it around was because I had hoped Shining would stumble upon it and surprise me with flowers.”

Chuckling, I stuffed the book in my bag. “Please, he wouldn’t get the hint if you told him yourself.”

“Well then maybe you should tell him for me,” she proposed playfully.

“Even when you’re getting married, I’m still playing the wingwoman for the two of you.”

Cadance laughed. “I’d repay the favor if you’d let me.”

I smiled and gestured to the book in my bag. “Thanks, but I think I’m good.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Stepping off the city bus, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, careful not to jostle my gift for Sunset. I had spent the night reading the book, looking for a plant that said what I needed to say. After a few hours of reading, I finally decided on the flower with the perfect combination of originality, subtlety, and meaning to present my feelings.

The morning was spent dodging Sunset. Wanting to delay my talk with her, I took the long way to my first period English class, walking through the school library and even hiding in the hallway that was never properly lit. It was all worth it to ensure that neither Sunset nor the girls caught me with my choice of flower.

Staring down at the ground, I shuffled slowly into the classroom. I knew Sunset was sitting in the back left of the room as usual, but I pretended not to notice her. For once, I thanked the fact that Mrs. Harshwhinny preferred assigned seats.

Droning on about the proper use of dangling modifiers, the teacher wrote across the white board. I followed along, taking notes to keep my mind off of Sunset. About halfway through the class, I felt the phone in my pocket vibrate, but I chose to ignore it because it might have been Sunset. I knew I was delaying the inevitable, but I couldn’t help it.

I cringed as the bell rang. Unable to think of anything else, I pretended to look through my backpack. As I had suspected, Sunset stopped at my side, taking a seat on top of the desk to my right.

“Hey, Twilight,” she said softly.

In the moment, I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, how much I wanted to take the handshake back. I wanted to tell her that I had fun on the date and that I wanted to be around her more. I wanted to tell her that I should have kissed her. I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend.

Instead, I just simply said, “Hi.”

She huffed through her nose and rubbed at her elbow. “So, how’s life?”

“Good,” I answered plainly. We let the conversation lull, or at least what little there was of one, and I assumed that she was just as hesitant to speak as I was.

Welp, here goes nothing.

“I got you something,” I said, rather stiffly.

Sunset gripped the edges of the desk she was sitting on. “You did?”

“Yeah. It’s to make up for the way our date ended...”

“Oh,” she hummed. “You didn’t have to.”

“I don’t really know how else to say it… so here.” Without another word, I dug into my backpack, carefully pulling out a smaller paper bag. As I pulled out the clay pot, I watched Sunset’s eyes flare in surprise.

“Oh, wow, it’s a... cactus,” she announced, her voice sounding unsure. “No offense, but why?”

I placed the potted plant onto the desk before turning back to her. “The cactus, due to its thriving in its harsh environment, symbolizes endurance.”

“Endurance, huh?” She lightly swung her legs from the edge of the desk.

Feeling my stomach tighten, I lightly tugged at one of the white flowers on top of the tiny round plant. “Despite all the hardships of the desert, it endures. No matter how difficult it is, its flowers bloom and the cactus thrives.”

I stared at the ground, studying the tiles. My heart was pounding, and my face was heating up. I gritted my teeth, hoping she wasn’t weirded out by the metaphor.

“Twilight, are you… asking me to go steady with you?”

I winced before nodding. “Yes… in a sense.”

She put her hand on my shoulder, and I immediately turned to face her. I expected a slight frown or even a furrowed brow, but there was a light smile on her face.

“All you had to do was ask.”

The answer immediately lifted all the nervous weight from my body. “Does that mean...”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it does.”

“Huh…”

Author's Note

"The theory consists of three core principles: language, thought, and meaning.

Language gives humans a means by which to negotiate meaning through symbols. Humans identify meaning in speech acts with others.

Thought modifies each individual’s interpretation of symbols. Thought is a mental conversation that requires different points of view.

Meaning states that humans act toward people and things according to the meanings that give to those people or things. Symbolic Interactionism holds the principal of meaning to be the central aspect of human behavior." [X]

Literary Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

Literary Theory

“So you and Sunset are a thing now, huh?” Rainbow Dash asked as she messed around with her guitar’s tuning pegs.

I nodded, albeit a little too enthusiastically. Sunset, my girlfriend—which felt great to say—did the same, except hers was a small, gentle nod of acknowledgement. She sat to my right, the Rainbooms’ songbook on her lap. The rehearsal was slow, plodding along as Sunset helped me catch up with my vocal parts. She hummed along with the notes as I deciphered the lyrics that were written in chicken scratch.

“Uh, why is the only lyric in my part, ‘Hey’?” I asked, taking the book. Looking over the rest of the song, I found myself biting my tongue to keep from commenting on the weak lyrics and rhyme structure.

Rainbow Dash leaned in closer, almost getting in my face. “Just what are you getting at? You’re not going to try to split up the band with your ‘artistic input,’ are ya?”

“You do realize she’s in the band, right?” Rarity cut in. “She has a right to give any input she wants.”

Rainbow Dash strummed her instrument, only to cringe once she realized the guitar was still painfully out of tune. “And whose idea was it to get her to join?”

“Yours, dear,” Rarity said, snatching away the guitar from Rainbow to adjust the tuning. “Remember, you put it up to a vote last week?”

“Oh, yeah…” she conceded. With a cautious glare, she turned to me. “Just don’t get any ideas, newbie!”

Sunset Shimmer shot me a playful wink. “That reminds me. Twilight and I have decided to cut ‘Awesome as I Wanna Be.’”

Rainbow Dash balled her hands up into fists. “You can’t just do that! We need to vote on these kinds of things.”

Setting down her bass, Applejack chuckled before patting Rainbow’s back. “Ya do realize they’re joking, right?”

“Of course I do!” Rainbow Dash said, defensively glancing at the others. “I was just playing along.”

“Although,” Rarity cut in, “I do have some ideas for a tune we could play instead.”

Rainbow scowled. “You know we can't cut it.”

“We can't, or you won't?”

“Both, either, take your pick.”

Giving up on the argument, Rarity rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Rainbow Dash’s guitar, comparing the out of tune notes to her own keytar, which couldn’t go out of tune. “I’d like to get something productive done today.”

“Or!” Pinkie Pie cut in, slamming down her sticks against the snare drum. “We could just take the period off on the occasion that we just have to celebrate CHS’ new cutest couple!”

“I don’t think we need to do that,” I said, forcing myself to stare at the ground to hide any sudden blush that may have appeared. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Oh,” Sunset chimed. “So, I’m nothing, am I?”

“What?!” I shot up, my heart nearly stopping. “That’s not what I—”

The smirk on Sunset’s face told me everything I needed to know Flustered, I crossed my arms. “C-can we just start rehearsing or something?”

Sunset, sitting down to my right, wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “I'm only kidding.”

“She’s right, though,” Rainbow said. “The sooner we finish, the sooner I can start Harshwhinny’s book report.”

Rarity pursed her lips. “Isn’t that due tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and? All I have to do is BS a thousand or so words that the tree is really a—”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“A penis,” Lemon Zest said, her voice deadpan and her face scrunched up. “You practically gave her a penis as a gift.”

“What?” I asked, feeling my face heat up. “How? What are you even talking about?”

Lemon pursed her lips, looking over at the other Shadowbolts who were trying their best to keep composed. “You do realize that a cactus is a phallic symbol, right?”

“W-what?” I stammered, feeling my stomach tighten.

“You ever read poetry?” Sugarcoat asked. “It’s, like, there all the time.”

Lemon hummed. “Sug’s got a point. Anything with fruit, trees, or flowers has a sexual connotation to it. It’s basic literary theory.”

“It’s in art, too,” Sugarcoat added, “like that one artist who paints roses that look like hoo-has.”

Sunny Flare rolled her eyes. “You guys are looking too deep into this.”

“Yeah, Sunny’s right. Sometimes a cactus is just a cactus,” Sour Sweet argued. “It’s not like Twilight’s telling her girlfriend that she wants to ride her like a stallion.”

“Only implying,” Sugarcoat cut in.

The rest of the girls laughed at the comment. However, I found myself looking away from them, choosing to admire the Crystal Prep rose garden, one of the few gorgeous areas the school had, which was also now completely ruined by my literary sexual awakening.

Still, I found myself admiring the beauty of the pink roses and the thick, intricate folding of the petals. They swayed gently in the wind, intertwining and basking in the radiant glow of the sunlight.

“As the fainting bee, Reaching late his flower, Round her chamber hums, Counts his nectars —enters, And is lost in balms!” recited Lemon Zest.

If I remembered correctly, she was reciting “Come Slowly—Eden!” Judging from the way my face heated up, I was blushing furiously, only fueling the laughter from the other girls.

“I hate you all,” I muttered under my breath facetiously.

“We’re only teasing, Twilight,” Lemon said. “But you have every right to blame Crystal Prep’s poetry unit. I just had to find a way to apply it to life. It also helps that you are so fun to tease.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, immediately biting my tongue.

Lemon laughed.” It’s just that you have the cutest little blush whenever you get bashful.”

“I what?” Instinctively, I covered my face, trying to figure out what exactly she meant by that.

“You get all red and doe-eyed,” Sunny Flare chimed in. “It’s actually kind of endearing to see you get all worked up like that.”

I held my hand to my face, not really knowing what to do. There was a slight lull in the conversation, which was most likely my fault since I had no idea what to say.

Indigo Zap slapped my back “But look at you, Twilight! You’ve got yourself a smokin’ hot girlfriend. You’re certainly doing better than some of us here.”

Sunny scoffed. “I told you guys that I’m waiting until college.”

“Likely story,” Sour Sweet commented. “Still doesn’t explain your blog posts.”

“That’s the last time I let you borrow my computer,” Sunny groaned, shooting a glare at Sour Sweet, who only stuck her tongue out in return.

“Hey, be grateful,” Sugarcoat cut in. “She probably found your stash but decided to keep it to herself.”

“In more ways than one,” Sour Sweet added. “It’s all in a flash drive named the ‘Spank Bank.’”

It was at that point where I began to tune out the others. I chose to look at my phone, only to find out that Sunset had sent me a text:

“I found a good place for the cactus. Tho I wouldn’t mind if u checked it out. Maybe Saturday?”

“Why do you have that doofy look, Twilight?” Indigo Zap asked. I looked up only to catch her cheeky grin just as she punched me on the shoulder lightly. “Come on, girl. Spill the tea!”

I passed over the phone. “My girlfriend invited me to her place Saturday.”

Lemon Zest snatched my phone from my fingers, looking over the text message. “Oh, yeah, she totally wants to have sex with you.”

“What?!” I tried to reach for it, only to have my hand swatted away.

“Look, she brought up the cactus. She clearly knows what’s up.” Lemon smirked. “It’s basic litera—”

“Can you not?” Sunny Flare quipped.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

There was a slight bounce in my step as I made my way to my parents’ home office. It was a small, compact room where my mom and dad kept a massive media library. I found myself getting overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices.

It was no surprise that my second date with Sunset would only piggyback off the success of the first. But this time, Sunset and I decided to play it safe and have a simple movie night. She would supply food and a TV, and I was in charge of movies.

Now if only I could pick just one.

Years of collecting films led to a shelf that most likely had a collective running time that rivaled the hours I was alive. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was still a lot of movies to pick from, and that was not even counting the movies I kept on a flash drive where I kept everything.

I decided on narrowing it down by genre. I was too squeamish for horror movies, so that was out. Romance was a bit too on the nose. Comedies were a safe bet, something mindless for a late night sleepover.

Maybe I could get away with a romantic comedy.

I decided on two comedies and a drama, and I only picked the last one because it was my favorite movie that my parents had written together.

Cosmic Conversations wasa quiet, understated movie about a crew of six of astronauts stationed on the International Space Station. Although it was an ensemble cast, it focused on Starry Skies, a recently divorced flight engineer who isolates herself from society, believing that there’s no place left for her on Earth. Eventually, she’s coaxed out by Commander Gaea, learning to open up and eventually deciding to travel the world to find a place to fit in.

Needless to say, it was more of an art house film than a blockbuster. Still, it was a critics’ darling, netting my parents Academy award for “Best Original Screenplay.”

It also didn’t hurt that I was born sometime during the movie’s filming stage, earning my name in the “Production Babies” credits.

Although, I would have been fine without the newspaper with the headline “A Star is Born” hanging in the office.

I stuffed the DVDs into my backpack and slung it over my shoulders. Satisfied with my choices, I made my way down the hall and the stairs, my hands squeaking on the handrails from the friction. Stopping just short of the living room, I caught parts of a hushed conversation—a rather tense one—and I found myself eavesdropping on the conversation, leaning over just enough to see what was going on without getting spotted.

“Yes, I understand,” my father said, his brow creasing. “No, it’s not a problem. We can find someone else.”

Hanging up the phone, my dad sighed heavily and turned toward my mother, who had her hands held against her forehead.

“Principal photography starts in three weeks, hon,” my mom scolded.

My father sighed. “I know, Vel, but you of all people should know how much of a perfectionist Yearling is.” He reached for a coffee cup and groaned once he realized it was empty. “She’d rather tank the whole production than get a Daring she doesn’t like.”

I stood at the base of the stairs, watching as my parents argued back and forth. Gripping the railing, I kept silent, too afraid to ask for a ride to Sunset’s apartment given their stress.

“Where in the world are we going to find another Daring?”

“An open casting call?” he suggested. “It blows the surprise, but I don’t think we have a choice.”

“I think I know someone,” I piped, a slight crack in my voice. “How about Spitfire?”

My mother jumped up from her seat. “Oh, Twilight! I didn’t catch you there. Your father and I were just talking business.”

“Is the movie in trouble?” I asked.

“Nah,” my father answered calmly, sitting up and easing off a slouch. “I mean, it's a setback I'd rather avoid, but we'll manage if we play our cards right. So… why Spitfire?

“ I know she hasn’t really done much, acting-wise, but I think she can pull it off.” I stared down at my shoes. “She’s funny, charismatic, has drawing power, and, best of all, she’s a huge fan of the books.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and rushed over to my parents as I pulled up a screenshot of Spitfire’s MyStable page where she donned a Daring Do costume for Nightmare Night. It was actually a pretty intricate costume despite being homemade. The comments section even blew up as people pieced together sentences across all the books with the details on the costume.

My father looked towards my mom. “It’s worth looking into.”

“I’ll send Yearling the picture,” my mother said. “What was Spitfire in again? Just so we can get some samples to send. I’d rather get an okay from Yearling before we make any more commitments.”

I bit my lip. “Uh… voicework as Zapp in the Power Ponies cartoon. She was also Special Agent Blaze in Mareami Vice. It’s a supporting role, but she was really funny in the episodes she’s in.”

“We’ll use that one,” my mother said, bringing in her laptop closer. “We’ve been looking for an excuse to watch it, right, Lighty? We can call it research.”

My father only chuckled. “At least set up a meeting first. At this point, we’re a little pressed for time.”

“Already done,” she said. “Sent an email to her agent.” My mother smiled cheekily before turning the screen for us to see. “Opportunity of a lifetime. Audition tape due tomorrow by six. Info attached. Don’t mess this up.”

“Good,” my father said. “The last thing we want to do is look desperate.”

“Aren’t we?” I asked, skeptically raising an eyebrow.

He nodded. “Well, of course, but they don’t need to know that.”

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and immediately remembered what I was here for. Sure enough, Sunset texted me, confirming our order of pizza and whether or not we could get it carried out or delivered. I sent my response, letting her take her pick and turned back to my parents.

“Hey, Mom, Dad, I’m going to Sunset’s now.”

“Have fun, sweetie,” my mom answered back.

I cocked my head, “That’s it?”

“What? Do you need a ride?”

I bit my cheek. “I’m going to my girlfriend’s apartment to stay the night. Y’know, just two unsupervised teenagers. This is the part where you tell me to stay safe, say no to drugs, and not come back pregnant or something.”

“Well there you go,” she said, chuckling. “You seem to have it all figured out. Now about that ride…”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Oh,” Sunset hummed. “I was expecting the pizza guy.”

“Great to see you too, Sunset.”

Chuckling, Sunset brought me into a tight hug before ushering me into the apartment.

For our second “date,” we decided to keep it just as casual and relaxed as Sunset looked in her sleepwear, a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Her hair was tied up, a sort of messier version of the bun I usually wore.

“So where’s the cactus?” I asked, holding back a chuckle.

She chuckled lightly before pointing out the window, where the cactus sat out on the fire escape, basking in the remaining light before the dusk settled in.

“I was going to put it on my bedside table, but then I realized it was right next to my alarm clock, and that was basically an accident waiting to happen.”

I laughed, which came out as a slight wheeze and a snort.

“So what’d you pick?” she asked, making her way over to the couch.

“Oh, just some comedies and another movie I hold close to me. It’s not as funny as the other two, though, but I have some more on a flash drive if you don't like any of the choices.”

“Neato,” she said, gesturing for me to join her on the couch. “Just put on whatever you want. I‘ll just go along for the ride.”

—☀—

“Just once I want my life to be like an ‘80s movie.”

You and me both, I thought, responding to the movie’s leading actress.

“Preferably one with a really awesome musical number… for no apparent reason.”

“Ugh, same,” I said, earning a slight giggle from Sunset. She sat off on my side, strangely sitting on her haunches. I tried to do the same but quickly found my legs falling asleep. A plastic bowl of popcorn sat in front of her, and she would lazily reach in, grab a handful, and shovel it into her mouth, not caring about the loose pieces falling from her grip.

I found myself watching Sunset’s reactions to the film, barely making out the scowl on her face as the queen bee archetype harassed the protagonist under the soft glow of the TV. She shifted in her seat before leaving the room and coming back with a can of soda.

Just a little while after, Sunset’s phone rang, and she immediately dove toward it, turning off the stock ringtone. She smiled sheepishly before muttering under her breath.

“Did you say something?” I asked.

“It’s eleven-eleven,” she said, her voice low. “Make a wish.”

The second half was barely a whisper.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she dismissed. “Just some stupid thing Pinkie showed me. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” I said, leaning over closer to her. “You set a reminder for some reason.”

“Just to… get Pinkie to stop texting me at this hour.” She fiddled around with her phone. “Although sometimes, I find myself making a wish… you know… ‘cause I feel like she can tell if I don’t. It’s silly.”

“It’s not,” I reassured. "I think it's nice."

—☀—

Yawning, I placed the second movie of the night back in its box. “What time is it?”

Sunset, sprawled out on the couch, lazily groped around for her phone. There was a small, almost painful ray of light, which caused her to wince as she checked the time. “Half past midnight.”

“Wow, it’s late. We should probably go to sleep.”

Sunset groaned. “Come on, we could do one more.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think I can stay up any longer.”

“Neither can I,” she said. “It’s just… the background noise helps me sleep.”

Unsure if I could power through another movie, I thought about it. There was really no harm in watching another movie, so I simply just shrugged and went along with it, digging into my bag for the last movie of the night.

I had always loved the disc art for Cosmic Conversations. It was a simple, elegant design of the two leads, Starry Skies and Gaea, floating off on opposite sides of the disc.

Despite my legs falling asleep a minute ago, I stumbled to the DVD player again, putting in the last movie for the night and fully knowing that we had no chance of finishing it before we succumbed to the inevitable embrace of sleep.

“I bet I can stay up longer than you,” she said, powering through a yawn.

“You’re on,” I answered back, hitting play on the remote before slumping down on a recliner next to the couch, forcing it into a laying position.

She lost. Or, at least I thought she did. It was hard to tell because I was fighting my own battle against sleep. In the end, it didn’t really matter.

But what I knew for sure was that neither of us got through the opening credits.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset must really like oatmeal.

Like, really like oatmeal.

Sunset’s pantry was bare, and I began to wonder where she got the time to go grocery shopping while balancing school and the Rainbooms. I dug around the stockpile, pushing past the pasta bags, soup cans, and the abundant boxes of cereal (most of which oat-based). Finding nothing else, I grabbed a container of instant oatmeal and went back to preparing breakfast for the both of us.

My parents often joked that my cooking skills, combined with my eating habits would serve me well through college. And as it turned out, they were referring to the fact that I only ate to keep myself alive, and when I did eat, it was mostly cereal, instant ramen, and the occasional pizza delivery if pressed for time.

They also said that I would leave the world at forty years old, due to cholesterol problems, but not without making a monumental discovery that advances humankind as a whole.

I still don’t know how to take that.

Stirring the oatmeal, I looked over to the living room, where Sunset Shimmer was still sleeping. Sometime in the middle of the night, she had rolled onto the floor—or halfway on the floor as her legs were still somewhat on the couch.

I had considered waking her up but decided against it, choosing to instead surprise her with breakfast as a subtle thank you. After a few minutes of cooking, I shut off the heater and let the oatmeal cool down while I dug around the fridge for something to drink, settling on a half-full carton of orange juice.

“Cooking me breakfast?” Sunset hummed. “And I didn’t even sleep with you yet.”

Shooting up from the fridge, I stammered, “S-Sunset! Good morning!”

“Morning,” she said, turning to tend to the pot of oatmeal. “So, was it good for you?”

“W-what?”

“Nevermind.” She chuckled to herself and then gestured to the oatmeal. “Eh, it’s a little vanilla for me. I like to add stuff to spice it up a little.”

“Um, there’s blueberries in the fridge, or are you looking for cinnamon? I didn’t find any, but I’m sure you kn—”

Sunset huffed, a smirk on her face. “You’re too cute, Twilight.”

I brought my hand to my face, trying to hide the slight blush at the comment. Closing the fridge, I turned my attention toward the cupboards, raiding the tiny kitchen again for bowls.

After the slight creak of the cupboard door, I caught a tiny dark splotch. It landed on my arm, skittering down to my wrist. I screamed, flailed my arms, and jumped backward. It, in return, ran across the counter and ducked beneath the microwave.

The it in question was a cockroach, a grimy, disgusting cockroach.

Sunset, a look of pain on her face, rushed over to my side and cupped my hand. “Twilight, I’m so, so, sorry about that. I could have sworn they were all gone.”

I wheezed. “It’s fine. It just caught me off guard.”

She bit her lip and looked at me apologetically, her hands now interlocked with mine. I couldn’t help but be comforted by her touch.

“I… I know a good diner down the street,” Sunset said, breaking the silence. “I can just toss out the oatmeal, and we could get something to eat there.”

I nodded, not really knowing what to think.

—☀—

The scent of still-sizzling bacon wafted into my nose as the waitress placed the plates in front of us, clattering against the table with a soft clink. Sunset looked up at her, putting on a polite smile and muttering soft words of thanks before pouring a generous amount of syrup on her short stack of pancakes. Lazily, she began to spread the syrup with a plastic butter knife. Her smile was gone, replaced by a blank stare as she avoided eye contact, instead choosing to focus on the food.

We sat in silence, listening to a loud upbeat jazz tune play on the nearby jukebox. Sunset tapped her fingers on the counter and played with her hair, stopping every once in a while to take sips of her coffee.

I, however, could not keep myself from talking. “Have you talked to the landlord about getting an exterminator?”

Sunset scowled. “There’s no way he’d spring up the money for it.”

“Have you thought about moving?”

“Where?” she asked. “I’m a unicorn from another dimension. I don’t necessarily have the best credit. I might as well be one of those aliens in that space movie.”

“There weren’t any aliens, but I get your point.”

“The only reason I got that apartment was because I spotted the roaches.” With a slight grimace, she dug her butter knife into her short stack, unenthusiastically tearing apart the pancake. “He figured he’d rent it off to me a little bit cheaper, so he wouldn’t have to get pest control. You know, save a quick buck.”

“Sorry.” I stared down at the table sheepishly, almost resorting to counting the pepper grains to keep from having to look Sunset in the eye.

“Don’t be. I’m a young adult. I’m supposed to have a terrible apartment.”

I laughed, but it wasn’t enough to keep the conversation alive. Instead, we turned back to the food, and I found myself regretting bringing up the topic. It wasn’t her fault, and I should have figured that. I probably came off as some unempathetic rich girl who was out of touch, whining about a short encounter with a bug while she dealt with them everyday.

“I really liked the movies we saw last night,” she said, breaking me from my thoughts. “I kind of feel bad for falling asleep during the last one… you know, what little we got through.” She chuckled, but it faltered quickly.

“It’s a good one,” I said numbly. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh,” she hummed, staring down at her food. “C-could I borrow it? Please?”

I dug into my bag. “Sure! I’ve also got a flash drive full of movies I keep around if you’d like to borrow that. Of course, it’ll take a while to sift through. I kinda just dump everything from schoolwork to music and such.”

“Hopefully, I don’t burn through it.”

“You won’t,” I said confidently, a hint of pride in my voice. “I mean, that there's just a lot in there, but even if you do, I have a whole movie library in my house. My dad’s a bit of a film buff.”

That may have been a bit of an understatement.

The conversation died down, and we turned our attention back to our food that was just beginning to cool down. The scrambled eggs were fine, a fluffy mass of yellow, complemented by the crispy bacon that sort of resembled Sunset’s hair. Although it was probably better to keep that thought to myself.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I instinctively jumped in response. Sheepishly, I dug into my pocket, pulled out the cell phone, and shut off the alarm.

“It’s eleven-eleven,” I said, sliding the phone across the table.

Sunset glanced down at the phone and looked back to me.

And then she smiled.

Author's Note

"Literary theory is a description of the underlying principles, one might say the tools, by which we attempt to understand literature. All literary interpretation draws on a basis in theory but can serve as a justification for very different kinds of critical activity. It is literary theory that formulates the relationship between author and work." [X]

The Triangular Theory of Love
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The Sunlight Theory

The Triangular Theory of Love

“Are you sure you and your father will be fine without me?” my mother asked. “I can cancel my meeting with Yearling and come back—”

“We’ll be fine, Mom,” I answered, my cell phone wedged between my head and shoulder and my hands busy with film equipment. “Dad’s just busy setting up the ‘perfect’ arrangement of couch pillows for the shot, and I’m just moving equipment around and pretending I belong.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said. “I can’t thank you enough for helping out your father today.”

“It’s no big deal, really,” I replied nonchalantly. “I’m basically an overpaid intern anyway.” I paused. “I’m getting paid, right?”

There was a curt chuckle from the speaker. “Room, board, clothing, and I think your father and I threw some love in on the side.” She paused. “Although, you should ask him because I’m not so sure about that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Very funny, Mom.” Our conversation slowed for a moment—long enough for me to set down a pair of light stands and watch as a production assistant set them up. “So what’cha meeting with Yearling about?”

“NDA,” she said with a slight chuckle.

I huffed. “Walked right into that one.”

“I’m kidding,” she explained. “Yearling’s still not a hundred percent sold on Spitfire, so I’m attempting to convince her that it’s just not viable for her to play the role herself, no matter how much she insists. I swear, the old hag won’t listen to reason when it comes to her work.”

“Didn’t you two go to college together?”

“Don’t think I didn’t catch what you were implying,” she shot back. “I’m her peer and best friend, so I can call her what I want. You’re my child, so you call me ‘Mom.’” She paused. “Wait, who told you?”

“Dad did on the drive here,” I answered, “but I’m kind of hurt that you didn’t tell me that my favorite author is your best friend.”

My mother sighed. “Yearling’s not easy to like, and that’s the nicest way I can put it. There’s a reason why they tell you to never meet your heroes.” She paused. “On that note, have you met Spitfire?”

“What do you mean by that?”

I could practically hear my mother shrug through the phone. “I don’t know,” she answered snarkily. “I think I might have been implying something.”

“I’m never going to win any of our conversations, aren’t I?”

She scoffed. “Well, not if you still see it as a game. It won’t help your confidence at all, dear.”

“Sure, okay,” I said, trailing off. “You weren’t serious about Spitfire, right?”

My mother laughed. “I was kidding. She’s a total sweetie, and you should actually meet her.”

“You’re not setting me up?”

“Me?” she asked facetiously. “Never. But seriously, you should probably meet her while the schedule allows it.”

Unsure if she was still joking, I thought about what she said while I dug around in my pockets until I found a neatly folded slip of paper. She was right. There was only a little over a half an hour before Spitfire was whisked away to makeup and then placed on set for the rest of the day.

“Hey, Mom,” I called. “If I were to sneak away to meet Spitfire, do you think my dad would notice?”

She hummed. “Probably not. What’s he going to do? Fire you? You’re not even on the payroll.”

“Wow,” I said, nonplussed. “Well, I’m gonna go before you rack up a few more points.”

“Bye, hun.”

“Bye, Mom. Love you.”

My mother chuckled. “I know, sweetie.”

Grimacing, I hung up. “She just always has to get the last word in,” I grumbled to myself.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I stopped just short of Spitfire’s trailer, standing a little taller and taking deep breaths. I had met a few celebrities while working with my parents, but it didn’t keep me from being nervous. For every day spent discussing books and movies over tea with Coloratura, there were two days of waiting on her manager as he rants about how his coffee isn’t brewed at his preferred two-hundred and two degrees, as if the extra one-point-two degrees would scald his tongue. He even threatened to fire me a couple of times before he found out who my parents were.

Looking down, I eyed the schedule in my hands. There was about half an hour before Spitfire was needed on set, but I’d learned the hard way to prep the talent before. My parents actually had to pretend to fire me just to keep Blueblood from walking off set.

Breath held, I knocked on the door and waited for a response. There was none. I grimaced, knowing that she was most likely asleep in her trailer. Knocking again, I called out her name.

“Come in!”

As I walked inside, I caught Spitfire looking up from the corner of the room. Her hair was dyed shades of smoky gray and black. It was a sight some of her diehard fans would have called blasphemous, since it replaced her “iconic” fiery hair. But still, the hair color suited her really well and she was a near spitting image of Daring as described in the books.

She held a book in her hands, a copy of Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet with most of the page highlighted and annotated. Smiling, she sat up from her bed and set the book at her side.

“Um, Miss Spitfire,” I said politely. “I was just checking in to see if you needed anything before we start.”

Humming, she stretched out her arms and pressed at her back as if to straighten it some more. “Nah, I’m good. Just don’t call me ‘Miss.’ You’re making me feel old.” She cracked her neck and let out a groan. “It doesn’t help that all this stunt training and fight choreography is putting me through the wringer.”

“Sorry about that.” I stared down at my shoes. “We’ve sort of been rushing to get you up to speed before shooting begins.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked with a bright lilt. “I’m having the time of my life. I haven’t been this sore since my first week at WCW.”

“WC...”

“Wonderbolt Championship Wrestling,” she answered with a singsong lilt. “I’ve got a lot of fun stories about training camp like the time I gave a moonsault to Moonsault herself.” She sighed, a smile plastered on her face. “Good ti—oh, hey, where are my manners?! I never got your name.”

“T-Twilight,” I answered, coughing out my name. “Twilight Sparkle.”

“Twilight Sparkle, eh?” she hummed, rubbing her chin. “It’ll look good on a titantron. You ever think of being a Wonderbolt?”

I laughed. Well, it wasn’t much of a laugh—more like an entertained exhale through the nose. “Please, there’s no way I’d make it. They’ll break me in half.”

“Oh, come on. You’re giving us too much credit, kid,” she said, laughing. “It’s not like we’re actually fighting. I could put you in a submission hold, and it wouldn’t hurt a bit.”

“And I believe you,” I said coolly, hoping to drop it there.

“Yeah, but you totally don’t, though.” Spitfire stood up from her bed. “Come on, I’ll show you.” She held her hands up and curled her fingers inward, gesturing for me to come closer.

Believe it or not, it wasn’t the strangest request I had ever received from a talent. That honor went to Sapphire Shores and her pre-performance ritual involving a bowl of only blue Skittles, a recently crocheted dolphin, and a karaoke machine full of her own songs.

Needless to say, I let Spitfire put me in a headlock because it was part of my thankless (and apparently pay-less) job. Though I wasn’t expecting her to sweep my leg and take me to the ground. I let out slight groan but was cut off as she sat on top of my back, holding my head up between her arms. Surprisingly, there was no pain—a little uncomfortable, sure—but it was harmless just like she had promised. Not too mention a bit disappointing.

“See?” Spitfire asked. ”It doesn’t hurt unless I apply pressure. Plus, my head’s right by your ear, so I can conveniently whisper sweet, sweet nothings.”

“Srsly?” My voice was muffled through her headlock.

“Sort of,” she said nonchalantly. “I mostly tell my ‘opponent’ what we’re gonna do next in terms of moves and spots. Although, Fleetfoot and I have a game going on to see if we can make each other laugh during our matches. She’s way better at keeping it in than I am.”

“C’n you let me go?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I spend so much time applying this during training that I forget I’m doing it half the time.”

She released the submission hold, and I wasted no time in getting back up. “Thanks,” I said, dusting off my clothes.

“No—thank you,” she responded, cracking her knuckles. “I honestly miss doing shows a li’l bit, but then again, how could I possibly turn down being Daring Do?”

“I’m glad you’re excited,” I said. “And we’re very happy to have you.”

“It’s funny because the email I got from Mrs. Velvet seemed like she was ready to get someone else at a moment’s notice. I never thought I’d get the gig.” Spitfire sat back down on her bed and took a deep breath. “It’s a little surreal, actually. I have no idea how in the world I got it.”

“Would it help if I told you that I kinda threw your name in during casting?” I couldn’t resist telling her. It just came out.

Her eyes went wide. “No way! How?!”

I shook my head. “It’s not that interesting. My parents were scouting people, and I felt you were a good fit.”

“I… owe you,” she said, her eyes still wide and a smile plastered over her face. She reached forward, grabbed my hands, and stared into my eyes. “Anything, just name it. Autographs, tickets to WCW, anything.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” she said, letting go. “So what are we doing today?” she asked, her voice rising. She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Are we filming the scene where I escape from the Fortress of Talacon as it crumbles around me, or are we doing the Tenochtitlan car chase?”

I fished around my pockets for my schedule and gave it short once over. “Neither, actually,” I said, ignoring her groan of protest. “We’re doing all the apartment scenes and interior shots this week. We can’t really take the filming out in public until we announce, so we’re keeping things discreet for now.”

“Boo,” Spitfire whined, falling backward onto her bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I haven’t even gotten to try on the costume yet.”

“There’s a very good reason for that,” I explained. “The costume from the Ne’er Do Well show kept getting stolen from the set, so we kind of have it under lock and key. Plus, the internet would go crazy if the costume leaked.”

“Everything’s so secretive,” Spitfire groaned, crossing her arms. “You know I’m not even allowed to tell my own mom what I’m doing? Heck, the studio hired a ghostwriter to take over my blog until the news is out.”

I stared down at my shoes. “Sorry about that, but hey, it won’t be for long. We’re prepping the announcement soon, so you won’t have to lie to your loved ones for much longer.”

“Good,” she said, sitting back up. “The sooner I can be an open book again, the better. But enough about me.” She shot a finger gun in my direction. “You do anything interesting? Sky diving, backpacking around the world, a hot date?”

I perked up at the last one, my heart leaping at the thought of Sunset. “Well, kinda.”

“Oh?” Spitfire purred. “Do tell. I’ve got time.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“You’re tired, stressed. You’ve just been told that your tenure is on the line if you don’t produce your thesis.” My father paused and looked down at his script notes. “But most of all, you’re frustrated because you know that the Sapphire Stone is hidden somewhere within the ruins of The Impossible City. All this potential, but here you are, stuck in a miserable apartment in the bad side of Manehattan.”

Spitfire nodded. “Got it, boss.” Smiling, she saluted enthusiastically before walking back towards the set, disappearing behind a prop door.

“Just go when you’re ready,” my father said. He made a quick gesture, raising a hand over his head. Just as he put his hand down, the lights dimmed and the surrounding chatter dissipated.

After a short pause, Spitfire entered the apartment, eyes sullen and breathing stiff. She kicked off her boots and tore off her jacket, not caring where either landed. She scanned the apartment, still dark, and sighed before slumping down on her couch, an ugly brown piece of junk that the set designers had picked up at a yardsale.

She turned on the TV and kicked her feet up on the coffee table, sitting there with an intense scowl before my father called for the lights to come back on.

“Alrighty!” my father cheered, clapping his hands. “That was good, Spitfire. Care to run it through again before we get the cameras set up and do it for real?”

Spitfire pursed her lips. “Mm, it wouldn’t hurt to get a few more reps through.”

My father nodded, raised his hand again, and Spitfire took position. About halfway through the movements, my phone rang, a loud, cheery chiptune.

“Sorry!” I piped, immediately silencing the phone. Rushing past the death-stares from the crew, I made my way out of the soundstage, still apologizing. I looked down at my phone, my heart lifting a little after seeing Sunset’s name across the screen. “Hey, Sunset.”

“This is not the Sunset you’re looking for,” she said, stifling a giggle.

“I see you’ve made it to Star Wars.” I was kind of looking forward to watching that with her; I didn’t think she’d get there that fast. At that rate, she’d burn through the rest of the flash drive in week or two.

“Eh,” she hummed. “I’ve been kind of skipping around. Though, I added the hours up, and I’m a little ashamed of myself, to say the least.”

“Oh, don’t be,” I dismissed, scratching at my head with my free hand. “I think I’ve watched each movie on that drive at least twice—three or four for some of them. Wow, that’s kind of sad now that I say that out loud.”

“I know, right?” Sunset asked. “I swear I felt my grip on reality fade a little bit.”

I laughed and leaned against the soundstage door. “That’s pretty much how my last summer went.”

“Speaking of summer,” she said coyly. “I found a little something special around the ‘S’ section.”

I froze. “Uh, what did you find?”

“Oh, nothing, I think just some school stuff, essays… and some more Summer Sun Pageant pictures.”

My face immediately heated up. “O-oh,” I stammered. “D-did you?”

“Oh yeah, totally.” She paused. “It’s a much better replacement to the photo we took on the Iron Pegasus.”

“H-heh, right.”

“You were a total cutie with braces,” she added.

“S-so! Why’d you call?” I asked, forcing a change in subject.

“Right,” she hummed. “Got a little distracted there. I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out later today.”

I bit my lip. “Um… I’m kind of tied up right now. I won’t be home until it’s late.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, her voice faltering.

I bit my cheek. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No biggie.” She let out a breathy chuckle. “It’s cool. We can do something another day then.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That sounds good. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

The conversation had hit a wall. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye, Twilight,” she said.

“Bye,” I said back. “Love you.”

Sunset squeaked. “Did you—”

I hung up.

By the time I realized what I had done, it was too late. I stood there, either in shock or just plain abject terror. It was a mistake, clearly a force a habit when it comes to phone conversations. But even then, it felt off to call it a mistake. I mean, it was a mistake, but still…

“Yo, Twilight!” a voice called.

I jumped, whipping my head around. “H-hey, Sp-Spitfire,” I said, the phone still pressed tightly against my ear. “What’s up?”

“You tell me, champ,” she said. “I just caught you frozen in place for the past minute. Is something wrong?”

She put her hand on my shoulder, but I pried myself away. “S-sorry,” I stammered. “I just need some time to think on my own.”

My phone buzzed again, but I immediately shut it off.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunday mornings at Crystal Prep were spent one of two ways:

The first was to get as far away from the campus as possible after breakfast, wreaking havoc in downtown Canterlot. The second was to hide inside the dorms, only to come out for food and bathroom breaks.

Luckily, I could always count on fellow shut-ins to always be where I needed them.

"I need relationship advice," I announced the moment Sunny Flare opened the door. She only nodded and gestured for me to come in.

"When don't you?" called a voice with a low groan. In the far left corner of the room Sugarcoat clawed her way out of her bedsheets, stretching her arms and yawning. She lazily groped around the nearby drawer for her glasses before turning her attention back to me. "I don't know if it’s just me, but it's starting to get old."

"Don't mind her," Sunny Flare said. “She doesn't like to wake up until noon on weekends. Just sit down and tell us what happened.”

Reassured, I nodded before slumping down on Sunny Flare’s bed. Once again, I found myself in a familiar position of dealing with the fallout of one of my many mistakes. Maybe I was just cursed to constantly screw up.

“I told Sunset that I love her.” It came out quick, like ripping off a bandage.

Sunny smiled. “That’s great!” She put her arm around my shoulder. “What’d she say?”

I turned away. “Um, I don’t know. I kind of… hung up.”

“Oh,” was all Sunny Flare said. “That’s, um… well, did you mean it?”

I stared at the ground, following the carpet’s pattern down the room. “I don’t know. It was one of those goodbye-on-the-phone kind of things.”

Sugarcoat shifted in her bed. “Right.” She paused. “But would you take it back?”

“I...” The words wouldn’t come out. Instead I just sat there, doing nothing but letting my mouth hang open as I tried to form together any string of syllables. When I realized it was going nowhere, I decided it was better to just stay silent. “Should I?”

“Listen, Twilight,” Sugarcoat said, “we’re not going to be around to give you the right answer all the time. You have to decide this on your own.”

I knew she was right, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Then again, I didn’t really know what I wanted to hear. I bit into my cheek, racking my brain for something to say.

The lump in my throat got bigger, refusing to go down. I tried to speak up, but I found myself trailing off.

“W-what if she—”

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks if you keep beating yourself up for everything you do.” Sugarcoat rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I get that you’re scared and all, but if she’s anything like you told us, she’ll understand.”

Sunny Flare chuckled and then patted my back.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s sort of cliche, isn’t it?” Sunny smiled. “I mean, it’s in all the sitcoms, and it’s been done to death in movies, but it’s a real experience. No one’s ever sure when it’s the right time to say those three little words.”

“It’s just words,” Sugarcoat remarked. “You do realize that we, as the abstract thinking apes we are, arbitrarily assigned all this weight and meaning to those words, right?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Sugarcoat scoffed. “It means that ‘I love you’ doesn’t really mean more than ‘cyborg chicken attack’ or any other stupid sequence of syllables unless you want it to.”

I forced a chuckle. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Sugarcoat cut in. “But still, you’re going to have to decide if those three words mean anything.” She paused. “Do they?”

“I don’t…”

She sighed. “Okay, we’ll take things smaller. Just answer me with simple yes or no. Nothing more, got it?”

“I don’t—”

“I said yes or no,” Sugarcoat snapped.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good,” she said, clapping her hands together. She looked around before digging in her bedside table, pulling out a notepad. “Do you find yourself wanting to spend more time with her?”

“Yes.”

“Even now?” She raised an eyebrow.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you care for her?”

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate.

“Do you see yourself growing old with her in the Prench Riviera?”

“Where’s this going, Sug?” Sunny Flare cut in, scowling.

Sugarcoat pursed her lips and adjusted her glasses. “Just trust me.” She turned back to me. “Do you?”

I thought about it for a bit. “Yes.”

“How about mildly successful artisanal winemakers in the Roam?”

“Yes?” I bit my lip. “I don’t see how this ties into anything.”

“Shut up,” she said, still writing. “How about running a terrible bed and breakfast in the bad side of Detrot?”

“Okay, “ Sunny interrupted. “We get it. Just move on.”

“Fine, fine.” Sugarcoat grumbled as she scribbled down in her notes. She looked to Sunny Flare and stuck out her tongue. After she was finished writing, she turned back to me. “Are you and her close?”

“Yes.”

Sugarcoat bit on her pen. “Would you call it intimate?”

“I guess.”

Sugarcoat paused for a moment, looked at her notes, and the and turned back to me, still stone faced. “Are you physically intimate?”

I hesitated, suddenly choking on my words. “N-no.”

Sugarcoat kept writing. “Do you want to be?”

The question caught me off guard. I hadn’t thought about it much before. Sure, physical intimacy was important in relationships, but I wasn’t exactly sure if I was ready. The thought of actually doing any sort of physical contact was intimidating on its own.

“I don’t…” I looked away, choosing to focus on the wall on the other side of the dorm.

“Whoomp, there it is,” Sugarcoat remarked. “You’re scared of intimacy, Twilight. Which, in hindsight, makes a lot of sense. You try to avoid it, but you’re just making things tougher for yourself.”

I gritted my teeth. “Oh.”

“Don’t get me wrong; it’s perfectly fine to be nervous about intimacy,” Sugarcoat reassured. “But eventually, you’re going to have to take the jump, or else she’s going to feel like the relationship isn’t serious.”

Sunny Flare nodded. “She’s right, Twilight.”

I sighed. “I guess, but I don’t really know how to be intimate.”

Sugarcoat smirked. “Have you tried consulting the Kama Sutra?”

“Seriously?!” Glaring, Sunny backhanded Sugarcoat’s arm, connecting with a dull thud.

“Come on, just let me have this one,” Sugarcoat said, holding back a laugh

Scoffing, Sunny rolled her eyes before turning back towards me. “Instead of referring to a literal sex manual, Twilight, you could try something small, like holding hands, or even just a peck on the cheek. You know, baby steps.”

“The thing is,” I said, trailing off. I crossed my arms, my nails digging into my skin. “I’ve never really kissed anyone before.” There was no response. Instead, the two turned and glanced at each other. I balled my hands into fists. “What?” My voice cracked.

“Were we supposed to flip out or something?” Sugarcoat asked. “Honestly, I’d be surprised if you did anything beyond a friendly pat on the back.”

I pursed my lips, holding back a frown “Yeah, but I still don’t know what to do.”

Sugarcoat huffed. “Twilight, we’ve been your training wheels for what, a month now? It’s about time we take them off and see if you can ride on your own.” She paused. “Or you know, you could also just crash into a fire hydrant across the street, which is perfectly fine too.”

“Right…” I said.

“I wouldn’t be so discouraged,” Sunny reassured me. “At least you know a bit more about yourself, and knowing is half the battle.”

“The other half is actual warfare, if you think about it,” Sugarcoat quipped, tapping her pen against her cheek. “They never tell you that in the cartoon or on the toy boxes, but—“

“Okay!” I interrupted as I shot up from the bed and began to make my way out the dorm. “Thanks for everything, I guess. It was fun and all, but I think I need to mentally prepare for the inevitable fallout that stems from my accidental profession of love and my inability to deal with intimacy.”

“Atta girl,” Sugarcoat cheered. “But seriously—and I’m not being facetious this time—answer one last question for me. It's a simple yes or no. You don’t even have to say it out loud. Just consider everything else I asked as well.”

I stopped just short of the door and turned around. “Okay, fine.”

“Do you love her?”

I thought about it for a moment and then opened my mouth to respond.

There was a short buzz in my pocket, and I jumped, immediately grasping for it. Sunset’s name came across the little notification box, along with a message that read, “Are we still on for tonight?”

I thought about it for a moment and then sent in my response.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Hey, Mom, can I ask you something?”

My mother stopped and turned to me. She looked like she was dressing up in a hurry, but she dropped everything the moment I spoke up. “Is something wrong?” she asked, taking a seat next to me on the living room couch.

I shook my head. “I just wanted to ask when was the first time my dad told you that he loved you.”

“Huh.” She pursed her lips. “I think he told me via cocktail napkin.”

“Seriously, Mom,” I groaned, lightly punching at her arm.

“Oh, alright,” she hummed. “I believe I was working on my second novel at the time. It took me quite longer than the first because your father would often steal me away.”

“What’d he do?”

“He’d throw a pebble at my window. That always really annoyed Yearling, who was still my roommate at that point. She was also my editor, you know… even after college and up until your father and I moved in with each other.”

I crossed my arms. “Focus, Mom.”

“Okay, okay. Serves me right for trying to tell a story.” She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “We always went to see movies. He’d claim it was for research for his next film, but he just really liked taking me to see all the sappy movies at the time because of how I would just gush about it afterward.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m getting to it,” she reassured, waving her hand around dismissively. “After the movie, we took a walk in the park.” She paused and stared off into the wall for a moment. “We were holding hands, sitting on the edge of the fountain when he said, ‘Vel, I think I love you.’”

“What’d you do?” I asked, leaning in.

“I pushed him into the fountain,” she said with a light chuckle.

“No.”

“Yes,” she said. “He pulled me in right after, and we were splashing each other. He made me feel like a giddy high schooler even though we were in our late twenties. I honestly thought we’d be taken home to our parents. Imagine my surprise when we got to the police station.”

I felt my eyes widen and my jaw drop. “You spent the night in jail?”

“Well, not really. Yearling posted the bail, but she wasn’t too happy about it.”

“And you never bothered to tell me any of this?”

She laughed. “Well, it didn’t have a moral then, but now it does.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Your father said ‘I love you’, and we were both jailed for disorderly conduct,” she answered facetiously. “As long as I don’t get a call from the police saying that they have you in custody, you’re doing better than your father and I.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Mom. You don’t know how much it means.”

“Glad to hear it,” she hummed, standing up from the couch. “You don’t even want to know what happened when he proposed.”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Mom.”

“Alright, fine.” She laughed before ruffling my hair. There was a slight beep that caused her to grimace and check her phone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should probably get going. Your father and I have a dinner meeting to woo investors with the Daring Do theme park ride rights.”

“So I’m home alone, again?” I asked. “How convenient.”

“I heard that,” she snapped, holding back a laugh. “I’m onto you, young lady. Don’t do anything that will get me a call from the police.”

“I’ll make no promises,” I shot back. She only smiled and planted a kiss on my forehead before making her way toward the front door.

After she left, I found myself sitting in silence. I checked my phone and grimaced. The string of short text messages said she’d be here in a half-hour, and I found myself with an uncomfortable amount of free time.

But I still had no idea what to do.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

We stood at the doorway, completely silent. She smiled, albeit weakly, and I tried to do the same. I didn’t know why, but it was reassuring to just stand there for a moment. As far as I knew, Sunset didn’t even care about what I said over the phone. It never happened. We were back to where we were.

But it didn’t feel quite right. It wasn’t enough anymore. Then again, I wasn’t sure what I wanted or what even was right. It was all just confusing. Do I apologize? Do I even bring it up? Do I double down and put everything out there?

Forcing the thoughts out of my head, I invited her inside, and we both sat in silence for another minute. Neither of us addressed the elephant in the room, instead choosing to let it sit in the corner and in the back of our minds. Eventually, the elephant began to grow, encroaching on the rest of the room and pushing us out of the way.

I took a sharp breath and held it, my lungs nearly collapsing as the elephant pinned me against the wall.

“Is that a new jacket?” I finally asked in a short gasp. It wasn’t. I just needed something to talk about. Thankfully, I could breathe again, but it was forced.

“No,” she said. “Same as always.”

“Oh,” I hummed, as if I were surprised. “Cause from this angle it looked—“

“Twilight,” she said curtly. She put her arm on my shoulder, and I flinched. With a slight nod, she backed off, giving me some space to breathe. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I held my breath. “I don’t know…” I trailed off. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’m not sure if I meant what I said or not.”

She chuckled and then averted her eyes. “I get it. It’s fine.”

“You do?” I asked. I leaned forward from the couch.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I made a similar mistake like that a while ago.”

“Please,” I dismissed. “What I did was stupid. As if you’d do something like—”

“I accidentally called Celestia ‘Mom’ once,” she said, cutting me off. “I was so afraid of what she might say that I avoided her any chance I could.”

“You? Scared?” I almost scoffed.

“Oh, I’m scared of a lot of things,” Sunset said nonchalantly. “I just try not to let it get to me anymore. It’s better for me to grit my teeth and face it. If I didn’t, I would be a nervous wreck by now.”

And here I was, too afraid to talk about my feelings.

Gosh, I’m such a coward. I stared at the ground, wishing I could have vacuumed the living room before Sunset came over. Fighting the urge to hug my knees, I forced myself to speak up. “I… Ugh, it was easier thinking about it in my head. I swear I had something to say, but it’s all coming out like… word vomit”

“Look, Twilight,” Sunset continued, “you don’t have to say anything if—“

“But I want to,” I cut in, “and I don’t. I don’t know. It’s all so overwhelming.” More silence. My fingers locked, and I found myself quickly playing with my thumbs. I took deep breaths.

“If it makes you uncomf—“

“I care about you,” I said, laying it out in the open. “I want you to know that I really, really want to be with you.” I felt my face heat up. “And whenever I think about you, I get all flustered.” She kept quiet, and I wasn’t sure if I should have continued. “I want to hold you close, and I want to whisper all the… um... sweet nothings I can think of into your ear, but the thought of actually doing it makes me… queasy and anxious.”

My heart was racing, chest aching. I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes planted on the ground.

She put her hand on my side again, and I managed to keep myself from flinching this time. Without a word she squeezed my shoulder, slowly massaging my back with her thumb. My breathing finally began to slow, and she rubbed down my arm and locked hands with me, gently rubbing her thumb on the back of my hand.

“Twi,” she said, moving in closer. “I don’t want you to feel that way. I’m willing to go as fast as you think you’re ready to go. Just don’t overthink it too much, okay?”

I nodded and processed what she had said. When I finally looked back up, we met eyes, and her lips curled in a reassuring smile. We held hands some more, finally enjoying the silence of the room again.

Just don’t think about it. Do what feels right.

Then I kissed her.

And a thousand violins began to play.

I wanted them to play forever, to be stuck in the perfect moment as the strings resonated throughout my heart, mind, and soul. The perfect end to a chapter. A satisfying cut to black. I’d even take a commercial break.

But no, life never has any perfect endings. In all the movies, the moment ends and the credits roll, but life goes on. The movies just never show the heroes go back home and live the rest of their lives.

We broke away. Sunset smiled, let out a breathy little laugh, and bit her bottom lip. “So that’s where we are.”

“Yeah,” I hummed dreamily, feeling completely weightless. “I guess so.”

“So... what now?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t really think about it all that much.”

“Good.” She dug her head into the side of my arm, laying down on the rest of the couch and getting comfortable. “Although, since I’m here, I guess we could hang out and watch a movie or something.”

“S-sounds good,” I said, still recovering from my high.

Refusing to get up from the couch and ruin a good thing, I grasped around for the TV remote with my free hand. Sunset curled in closer as I turned on the TV and switched it over to the DVD player, letting it play whatever was inside. She kept her head against my side, cradling my arm.

“You know,” she spoke up, her voice soft, “for stumbling around in the dark a lot, I think we’re doing good.”

“Y-yeah,” I said, holding back a laugh.

“Though,” she started, “there’s just one thing that I’m a little curious about.”

“Go for it,” I responded confidently. “It feels good being an open book for a little bit.”

I looked over to her, and she smiled back.

“What’s ‘The Sunlight Project?’”

Author's Note

"According to the theory, love has three components:
(a) intimacy, which encompasses the feelings of closeness, connectedness, and bondedness one experiences in loving relationships;
(b) passion, which encompasses the drives that lead to romance, physical attraction, and sexual consummation;
(c) decision/commitment, which encompasses, in the short term, the decision that one loves another, and in the long term, the commitment to maintain that love." [x]

Equity Theory
View Online

The Sunlight Theory

Equity Theory

Everything was perfect for a total of twelve seconds.

Story of my life, I guess. So much for being an open book. Though I did have some explaining to do… if only I could just string together a coherent set of syllables. But no, my tongue was a traitor. It had planned a coup with my brain behind my back and went on strike the moment I needed it to be at least semi-functional.

“I… uh, eh-heh. About that…” I swallowed, nearly choking on my own spit. “Where did… How… Um…”

“I figured as much,” Sunset said, her voice dropping. She rubbed at her neck and looked away for a brief second before mumbling, “and here I was hoping you snuck it in the flash drive on purpose.”

Oh. The flash drive. Of course it was that. I handed it off to her without thinking anything of it, and now she most likely saw everything. Oh gods, what else was in it?

Finally powering through my initial shock, I forced myself to laugh—except it came out as a coughing, choppy gurgle. It took a few seconds after that to work up the courage to speak up again. “How much did you read?”

“Not much,” she answered, her voice a bit more confident than before but still shaky. “I got to the thesis statement and took a peek at some of the comparative charts.”

I gritted my teeth. “Oh."

She let out a soft chuckle. “I should have figured there was more to it.”

“More to what?”

“The detailed schedule on asking me out,” she said.

“Oh, right… that,” I said, remembering the night spent in the hospital room where she had found only a small fraction of the plan itself. But now, she had everything: the thesis, the research, and even the extensive series of charts. “I… uh, I can explain.”

She sat up. “You don’t have to,” she said, her voice firm. Without hesitating, she took my hands and rubbed them with her thumb. “Twilight, I’ve known you for months now, and I’m not the least bit surprised about this.”

“You’re not?” I asked, feeling my chest loosen up. I could breathe comfortably again.

“No,” she said, rubbing her knees. “I’d write an essay on how great I am, too.”

I punched her shoulder, and she laughed in response.

“But seriously,” she continued, “it’s a little weird and all, but it’s kind of endearing coming from you.” She draped her arm around my shoulder, and I let out a small sigh of relief. “Although, I’m expecting a two page essay tomorrow on my desk. Single-spaced, size twelve font, Times New Roamin. And don’t even think about messing with the margins.”

I smiled, digging my head into the nook of her neck. “I won’t, Miss Shimmer.”

She moaned, tugging at my hair. “Oh, that kinda gets me going. Do it again.”

“S-stop,” I stuttered, my face flaring up.

Sunset grinned. “I can’t help it. You just have the cutest little blush.” Giggling, she pinched my cheeks. “It almost makes me want to write an entire essay about it.”

I groaned. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” she said, sinking deeper into the couch. “Although, can I ask you one more thing? It’s about the data collected.”

I gritted my teeth. “Sure.”

“How’d you get my bra size?”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Grinning, Rainbow Dash slapped a stack of papers onto the cafeteria table. “Look at this,” she said, pointing at the paper on the top of the stack. The other girls sat up from the bench and leaned over the documents.

“What’s this?” Applejack asked. Her face scrunched up as she pulled a stray sheet of paper off her lunch tray.

“I’m glad you asked, AJ,” Rainbow said, a smirk creeping up on her lips. “You see, on January 21st, the website for DaringDoTheMovie.com was registered by a certain movie studio. That means that we might be able to see Daring on the big screen soon.”

“So what?” I asked, cutting her off. “Movie studios do that all the time. They do it to keep squatters from stealing the domain and forcing them to pay thousands for the website. Just because they registered the site doesn’t mean that—”

“But that’s where you’re wrong, egghead,” Rainbow interrupted, flashing me a smug smirk. “I have the proof right here.” She dove forward, moving around the papers until they nearly filled the surface of the table. Digging around, she isolated a printed out web article and pointed at it with an emphatic hum. “You see this?”

“‘Wonderbolt World Champion Spitfire forced to drop title due to shoulder injury,’” I read aloud. “What about it?”

Rainbow scoffed. “‘What about it?’” she mocked, imitating me in a deep voice. Rolling her eyes, she explained: “Spitfire has been known for taking time off to shoot new seasons of Mareami Vice in the summer, but she has never, ever, vacated the title for it. They always book it for her to lose the title at least a month in advance.”

“So?” Rarity butted in. “Maybe she’s actually hurt.”

“Except she’s not!” Rainbow declared, shuffling around some more papers. “Here, look, on her blog, The Fireside Chats. Last year, she posted a picture of her X-rays of her broken wrist. Three years ago…” She paused, looking around for more evidence. “Ah! Here she is at the hospital for her cracked ribs.”

“My…” Fluttershy gasped. “You’d think it’d be safe. You know, because it’s fak—”

“Hey!” Rainbow cut in. “It’s not fake. It’s predetermined. There’s a difference.”

“Yeah, it’s sooooo dangerous!” Pinkie jumped in, bobbing up and down in her seat. “My sister, Limestone, once suplexed me through a table at my tenth birthday! It was awesome! We had my birthday cake in the emergency room. But I totally got her back the next year when I drop-kicked her off a—“

“My point is,” Rainbow continued, clamping Pinkie Pie’s mouth shut with her free hand. “By now, Spitfire would have totally posted an update on what happened, but her blog never mentioned anything about her injury especially since—ugh! Pinkie!“

Rainbow let go of Pinkie’s face and wiped her hand off on her shirt. Pinkie giggled, her tongue sticking out.

“I think you’re grasping at straws,” I said. “I don’t see any correlation between this and—“

“Then let me show you… the piece de resistance!” She pulled out a photo from her pocket. It was a picture of a hooded figure, walking out of a bookstore with a box set of the Daring Do series. “This photo of Spitty was taken here, in Canterlot, about half a mile away from the local movie studio. Now, I direct your attention to this!”

She planted her index finger right at the figure’s wrist, where a stylized flame tattoo was printed around her wrist like a bracelet.

“Spitfire got this custom tattoo on an episode of Wonderbolt Ink about a month ago. I remember this because she talked about her favorite books and movies. One of them was Daring Do because she’s awesome.”

Rarity huffed. “If only you researched this much for school.”

“Shut up,” Rainbow quipped, glaring. “And the final piece of the puzzle. Look at her hair! It’s black and gray! This can’t be a coincidence.”

“Wow, that’s…” Rarity trailed off.

“Impressive?” Rainbow asked, grinning. “Thanks. Me and my online buddy spent weeks on the Daring-Dominion forums cracking this.”

I looked down at the assortment of papers, including an extensive series of chat logs between a SentonRainbomb and a QuibbleMania96.

“Seems a little excessive, isn’t it?” I asked, thumbing through the sheets.

Sunset giggled. “Says the girl who wrote an entire thesis paper on courting me.”

“S-stop!” I gasped, my face heating up. She laughed some more before hugging my side. “You’re not going let me live this down, are you?”

“I dunno, now that I’ve slept on it...” She stalled, pretending to think about it before planting a quick peck on my cheek. “Nah.”

I looked down at the tabletop, but I felt the stares from the other girls. Sure enough, when I looked up, I was met with all the girls’ attention. Some, like Rarity and Fluttershy, tried to hide their reactions behind behind a hand to the mouth. However, Rainbow was much less considerate as she slammed her fist on the table in an attempt to hold back laughter.

“So she found out about the thing?” Rainbow asked, biting her lip.

“Yeah…” I said, groaning as Sunset squeezed tighter. “She saw everything.”

“Well, I haven’t looked at everything yet,” she mused, finally letting go of her hug. “I’m trying to savor it the best I can. It’s not every day your girlfriend hands you a paper on why she loves you.”

I slammed my head against the table. The others giggled. Thankfully, the bell came to my rescue, and I was able to quickly excuse myself to my locker and prepare for class.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Page thirty, paragraph twelve.”

This can’t be good.

“What about it?” I bit the inside of my cheek and looked up from my locker, turning to face Sunset. She flashed a cheeky smile and brandished her cell phone, where there was a highlighted bit of text.

“November sixteenth, approx one fifteen AM,” Sunset said, reciting what was written on the phone. “‘At the night of Pinkie's party for her sister, I shared bed with Sunset. One seventeen: Sunset tossed her bra in the corner of Pinkie’s room.’”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Sunset sang, nodding vigorously. “It was then, wasn’t it?”

“I told you I don’t remember,” I answered, dropping off a pair of textbooks in the locker. “I was collecting a lot of data that might have proved useful at the time.”

Sunset arched an eyebrow. “What use would my bra size be?”

I shrugged and made the “I don’t know” sound, which only seemed to make her laugh. “Honestly, it’s all one big, misguided blur.”

“No kidding,” Sunset said. “I mean, no offense, but the whole thing is kind of ridiculous.”

I gritted my teeth and forced a laugh. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Well, it’s good to see that you can look back at it and laugh.” Sunset paused for a moment. “And hey, it worked… sort of.” She draped her arm over my shoulders and smiled. “Can I walk you to class?”

“Oh, how romantic,” I hummed. “But aren’t we supposed to be holding hands?”

“If you want to be a square,” Sunset teased. “Only cheesy rom-coms do that.” She pulled me in closer, and I let out a surprised squeak. “This is much better.”

I didn’t argue with her, mostly because I found myself liking the way she held me. As we walked, I dug my head against her arm. She played with the collar of my shirt, mindlessly tugging at the fabric. Immediately after, I felt a chill up my spine as Sunset’s nails rubbed against my neck and shoulder.

“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Just collecting data,” she said, playfully tugging at my bra strap.

I pried myself from her arms. “Why?”

She shrugged before shooting me a cheeky grin. “Dunno. It might prove useful.”

I felt my face heat up. “You could have asked.”

“You could’ve, too.”

At that point, I stopped trying to argue. It felt like I was stepping into every trap she set. "Fine," I mumbled. "I get it. I went too far."

"Still," she started, "it's only fair that I get to know yours."

"S-Sunset..."

"Fine, fine, I'll drop it," she said, half laughing. "I'll pick you up after school, sound good?"

I nodded, thankful that it wouldn't be brought up again.

"I'll be waiting up front," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek before heading off to her next class.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Every day, the ride up the hill to my house became more and more tolerable. It also helped that Sunset was accommodating when it came to her speed on the bike. Still, I couldn’t help but stare at the curb where I broke my ankle each time Sunset drove me home.

“Hey, Sunset,” I started, stepping off the bike and onto the driveway. “Would you like to come inside and hangout?” I felt my chest tighten as I waited for an answer.

She shook her head. “Nah, I have some errands to run right now. Catch you another time?”

“Yeah, definitely,” I said, pulling off my helmet and handing it back to her. “See you tomorrow then.”

“See ya.” Sunset gave a mock salute before fearlessly speeding off down the hill.

I watched her drive until she disappeared and then made my way inside the house. The heater was on, which was welcomed since Spring was still a few weeks off. I kicked off my shoes and let out a relaxed sigh as the warmth began to settle in my skin.

I caught Spike laying on the couch, something my parents still didn’t like despite the fact that he’s asked and bargained for the privilege several times.

“Oh, hey, Twilight,” he said, popping up from the couch’s cushions. He ran over and stopped right in from of me, his tail wagging.

“Hi, Spike,” I said, stooping low to greet him. He jumped in my hands, and I carried him back to the couch, where he then got comfortable on my lap. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” he answered. “I’ve just been watching TV all day since you’ve abandoned me.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “For the last time, Spike, I got a girlfriend. I didn’t abandon you.”

“Same difference,” he shot back smugly. He pawed at my shirt. “By the way, I watched the first three seasons of Ne’er Do Well without you.”

“Spike,” I huffed. “We were supposed to watch that together.”

“But you’re almost always gone with your girlfriend,” he retorted. “And when you do come back, you hog the TV with her.”

“Oh, I get it,” I started, lifting him up into the air. I couldn’t help but baby-talk at him. “Someone’s feeling a wittle lonely.” Smiling, I brought him into a tight hug for a few seconds before putting him on the couch next to me. “I guess I should be balancing my time out with you some more.”

“That’d be nice.” Spike slumped down on the cushion. “Though, you’re probably busy all the time—what with your girlfriend, your band, your two sets of friends, school, whatever you do with your parents…”

“You know, when you say it like that, I have a lot going on. I think I might not be able to make time for you.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Spike said, nestling into my side.

“I’m kidding,” I reassured, massaging Spike’s back. He seemed to appreciate it. “But you know what? You’re getting my all of my attention for the rest of today.”

Spike’s ears lifted up. “Seriously.”

I nodded and rubbed at the back of his head. “Yup. Just you and me.”

“Did Sunset turn you down or something?”

“Rude,” I huffed. Although, I couldn’t really tell him that he was right. “No, she didn’t.”

Spike seemed pleased with the answer as he hopped back onto my lap. “Well then, what do you want to do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever you want.”

—☀—

“One! Two! Three!”

“Your winner, and still Wonderbolt Champion… Misty Fly!”

Apparently, Spike watches the Wonderbolts while I’m away. Still, watching the wrestling show with him gave me some more context behind what Spitfire did for a living besides acting. The matches were fun, nothing I’d be into on my own, but watching Spike react to everything made things much more enjoyable. Although, with all the amount of flips and flashy, impractical moves, it made me wonder how anyone could think it was real combat like the show presented it to be.

Spike groaned. “Of course she cheats to win again.” He snarled and barked at the TV screen. “Her feet were clearly up on the ropes.”

“Is that bad?” I asked.

“It gives her unfair leverage while going for the pin, and the stupid referee didn’t even see it!” He pawed at his face.

I hummed. “Well, I guess they’re doing their jobs right. I’m sure the scripting is supposed to make you feel frustrated.”

“Scripting?”

“Yeah,” I continued, without even thinking, “the referee knows how the match ends, so he pretends not to see that.”

Spike looked up at me and cocked his head. “What do you mean the ref knows how it ends? It’s illegal to rig a fight.”

Oh, no. He thinks it’s…

I figured I had to tell him. “Um… Spike, it’s not exactly… real.”

“It’s not?” His voice faltered, and his posture lowered. “Well, that’s kinda disappointing. Next thing you’re gonna tell me is that Spitfire isn’t really injured, and she dropped her title for nothing.”

I’ll just let him have that one.

“I’m gonna grab something to eat,” I said, standing up from the couch. “You want anything?”

“My innocence back?”

“Sorry, Spike,” I mumbled as I patted his head. “I thought you knew.”

He rolled onto his back and rested on a throw pillow. “It’s fine, I guess. Though some of the fun is kind of taken out of it. Now I have to question everything on whether it’s real or a total lie.”

At that point, I figured it was just him being dramatic. I simply scratched at his belly and all seemed to be forgiven. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about shattering his perception despite how unrealistic they were.

I made my way into the kitchen and searched around the pantry. Too lazy to make anything that required effort, I settled for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I felt a squeeze on my shoulder and turned see my mother opening the fridge.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, muffled somewhat by half a sandwich still in my mouth.

My mother pulled out a pitcher of iced tea. “Hey, Twily.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Busy,” she answered, joining me at the kitchen counter. “He’s prepping for the announcement tomorrow.”

“Announcement?”

“Yeah, for the movie.” She poured a glass and offered it to me. I shook my head. “Right now, he’s arguing with Yearling on which poster to use tomorrow. I swear, they’re like a match and a fireworks factory.”

“Which one’s which?”

She took a sip from her drink. “Today, your father’s the match.” She rubbed at my shoulder again. “So what’s going on in your life? I hardly ever get to check in on you now that we’re in production.”

I shrugged. “Nothing much, I guess. I’m in a band now. I don’t think I’ve told you that yet.”

“Oh,” she hummed taking another drink. “You joined your school’s orchestra?”

“Actually, it’s a rock band.”

“Oh.” She leaned on the counter. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“My girlfriend’s in it,” I explained.

“Ah. Makes sense.” She patted my shoulder one last time before making her way out the kitchen. “Well, if I have the time, I’d love to see your band play.”

“It won’t be as good as you think it is!” I yelled out into the hallway.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Do we ever get any gigs?” I asked, looking over the Rainbooms’ songbook.

Rarity shook her head. “Not really. We sort of just do this for fun.”

“What about the one time we played at Sugarcube Corner?” Fluttershy asked, tapping her fingers against her tambourine.

“I wouldn’t necessarily count that, dear.” Rarity slung her keytar over her shoulder. “We played for about ten minutes before the Cakes made us leave because we weren’t exactly ’easy listening.’”

“Who would have guessed that the people at coffee shops don’t want unrelenting power chords?” Sunset said.

Rarity sighed. “That’s why I keep insisting that we try out a few of the ballads I wrote, but Rainbow Dash keeps saying that we’re exclusively power rock—whatever that is.”

“Speakin’ of Rainbow,” Applejack cut in. “Where is she? It’s not like her to be late to rehearsals.

“I’m here!” Rainbow shouted, kicking in the band room door. “Was busy at the library, printing this baby out.” Grinning, she waved a piece of paper over her head triumphantly.

“You at the library?” Sunset teased. “Must be something really important.”

“Oh, it is, bacon hair,” Rainbow shot back, arching an eyebrow. She turned to me, a smirk plastered on her face. “Suck it, Sparkle! I was right,” she cheered, dropping a sheet of paper on my lap.

Daring Do Movie Announced, Spitfire Announced in Lead Role.

No amount of warning could prepare me for the sheer amount of pelvic thrusts in my face. Rainbow, with a grin plastered on her face, played a short guitar riff, still pumping her midsection at me. I rolled my eyes, which only seemed to make her even more cocky.

Rainbow Dash smiled. “So what do you say now?” she asked. “Admit it. Say you were wrong, egghead.”

“Lay off her,” Sunset interjected playfully, giggling.

“No, no,” I dismissed, shrugging nonchalantly. “I was wrong. I can admit that.”

Rainbow scowled. “It’s no fun if you go along with it.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Um, was I supposed to say something else?”

Sunset chuckled. “Just leave her be, Rainbow. She doesn’t know how to be wrong.” She held my hand. “You’re supposed to get angry and whine.”

“Oh, okay then,” I said, playing along. I scrunched my face and grunted, earning an amused chuckle from the others.

“Can y’all stop goofing around?” Applejack cut in, powering on her bass amp. “I’d rather not waste another rehearsal just talking about nothing.”

Rainbow scoffed. “Fine, fine. Just give me a sec to get my guitar out.”

—☀—

"One, two, three, four!”

It started with a quick rhythmic line, Sunset on guitar and Applejack on bass. The driving bass line set the chords for Rainbow Dash to play an aggressive, commanding melody commanding attention. Once the percussion hit, the music carried us away. We got lost. There was something about the energy in the room; the bass resonated in my chest, striking like lightning, roaring like thunder. I almost forgot my part until Rainbow’s raspy voice kicked in. I jumped awake and joined in, singing a simple harmonic part.

Something clicked. It wasn’t like the other rehearsals. No starting and stopping after two bars. No arguments. Nothing. Just pure music.

I looked to the others, meeting their eyes and seeing the same spirit I was feeling. They were all smiling, powering on as the volume rose to a fever pitch.

Rays of light shot from the other Rainbooms. I stopped singing, shielding my eyes from the light. Once the light was gone, pony ears appeared on the heads of everyone else; their hair grew longer, and Fluttershy and Rainbow sprouted large, feathery wings. I could recall something like this happening during the Friendship Games, but it still caught me off guard.

It wasn’t until I saw Sunset that I noticed the warm glow. Something about it made her seem more… comfortable. I couldn’t explain it, but she looked happier surrounded by the magic.

I stepped back, watching the rest of the Rainbooms as they continued on. Applejack stared back at me and shot me a confused look. She stopped playing, and then the rhythmic drive disappeared. Soon after, the music fell apart, and the pony parts quickly disappeared. It was like all the air had left the room.

The dust settled, and the magic was gone. Now all the girls’ attention was on me.

“That’s weird,” Sunset commented, walking up to me. “You didn’t pony up at all.”

“‘Pony up?’ H-how often does that happen?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think. I’m surprised it took this long.” She turned to the other girls. “But man, that really felt good.” Smiling, she rotated her shoulders and stretched out her back. “Didn’t it?”

The Rainbooms nodded. “Shame we couldn’t hold onto it a little longer,” Rarity said, rubbing her head where her pony ears used to be.

“Should I be worried about this?” I asked.

Sunset shook her head. “Nah, not really. It’s mostly a cosmetic thing at this point.”

“Oh." I tried to come up with a decent response. “It makes quite an impact. Very marketable.”

“Yup! We’ll look great on a T-shirt!” Pinkie Pie chimed in. “Maybe hats with pony ears, a toy line—ooh! How about a series of commemorative souvenir cups?”

“As cool as it would be to be on a T-shirt...” Rainbow started, “I think we’re better off being underground for a while. Let the success roll in after a few months of indie gigs.”

Rolling her eyes, Sunset strummed at her guitar. “Okay, sure.” Pick it up from the top?” Sunset asked. There were various murmurs of agreement as everyone lifted their instruments.

“One, two, three, four!”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

After another hour of starting and stopping, we weren’t able to recreate the magic—both literally and figuratively. So, instead of forcing it, we decided to call it a day.

“Hey, Twi, wanna go grab a bite?” Sunset asked, slipping her guitar off her shoulder.

I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh!” Pinkie squealed. “Can I come I know a good pla—“

“Don’t you have a shift at Sugarcube Corner?” Rarity asked, cutting her friend off. She shot a wink in my direction, and I stifled a giggle.

“Oh, right, yeah,” Pinkie said, giggling as she twirled her drumsticks.

“I’m gonna go get the bike. You fine waiting here?” Sunset asked, locking her guitar away in its case. I nodded, and she planted a small kiss on my cheek before leaving. I brought my hand up to my face, rubbing at the spot as I watched her walk out the door. I turned towards the others, who were all staring back at me.

“So,” Rarity droned, “you two seem close.”

“Yeah,” I said dreamily, my hand still on the spot where Sunset had kissed me. “I guess we are.”

“When’d you get all lovey dovey?” Rainbow asked, gagging. “It’s kinda gross.”

I’m the one who’s gross? I rolled my eyes, still trying my best to forget Rainbow’s pelvic thrusts from earlier.

Pinkie Pie squealed, bouncing up and down on the drum pedal, which in turn set off the bass drum. “You two—cute—gether!” She let out a happy chirp. “I jus—ly want to—“ As she spoke, the drum beat got faster until it drowned out her voice. Eventually, the beat slowed, and Pinkie looked at me with big, expectant eyes. I only nodded in response, which seemed to please her.

“Valentine’s is coming up,” Rarity said coyly. “I tried getting Sunset to tell me something about your plans, but she won’t say anything. So I was wondering if you knew—”

“Mind yer business,” Applejack interrupted. “Ah’m sure the two want to keep their private lives, ya know, private?”

Rarity scoffed and crossed her arms. “Can’t a girl just vicariously live through her friends?”

“It’s fine,” I said, taking control of the conversation. “Sunset and I haven’t really talked about it yet.”

“You haven’t?!” Rarity’s eyes went wide. “But it’s the day for couples. It’s the day for big gestures of love, romantic walks in the park, rides on a ferris wheel that gets stuck on the top so it overlooks the sun setting over the ocean. A day that—”

“We get it,” Rainbow cut in, rolling her eyes. “I expected them to be the ones to shove their relationship down our throat, not you.” She paused, staring Rarity down. “Though, knowing you, I dunno why I’m surprised.”

“What?” Rarity asked. “There’s nothing wrong with wishing that my friends have a great day celebrating their relationship.” She turned to me, a cartoonish smile drawn on her face. “Although it wouldn’t hurt to hear something. Come on, who kissed who first?”

I felt my face heat up and my chest swell. “I did.”

“No way,” Rainbow exclaimed. “I call bull.”

“Pay up, Dash,” Applejack teased, holding out her hand.

Grumbling, Rainbow fished around in her pocket before dropping a crumpled bill onto her friend’s palm. With a smirk, Applejack took the money and stuffed it down her shirt.

“How… did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” Fluttershy looked away and hid behind her hair.

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling light. “I don’t know... I just sort of went for it.”

Rarity squealed and brought her hands to her mouth, muffling her sounds of approval. “Ohmygosh, I never would have guessed you’d be the one to make the move.”

“Well I did, and honestly it—“ My phone buzzed. Jumping from my seat, I took it out and checked it. “Gotta go, girls. Sunset’s outside.” Without another word, I made my way out the band room.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset sipped at her soda, idly tapping at her phone as I joined her in the restaurant booth with our food. I passed Sunset her meal, and she responded with a simple, “Thanks, babe.”

I’m a babe.

“N-no problem,” I said, trying not to melt after being called the pet-name. I sat down and laid out my meal on the little paper wrapper. I wasn’t much of a fan of veggie burgers, but my eating habits seemed to match Sunset’s, which made me a somewhat of a vegetarian.

At least fries count. I could take solace in that.

“Valentine’s is coming up,” I said nonchalantly. I bit at the corner of a ketchup packet, pretending that it deserved more of my attention. “Don’t wanna make a big deal about it, but I wanted to know if you want to do something.”

“Oh yeah,” she said, chewing on the tip of her straw. “We should probably do something.”

I nodded. “It’s been a while since we’ve been on a date.”

She tilted her head. “Depends on what you call a date. If a date is going out and making a day of it, then yes, it’s been a while. Although…” She tapped her chin. “This is technically a date, isn’t it?”

“Are we going to argue semantics?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

She shrugged. “Why not? I think it’ll be fun.” Smirking, she shook her empty drink, rattling the ice on the inside. “Loser gets refills?”

I let out an amused huff. “No need—I got it,” I said, grabbing her drink. “Orange?”

She nodded, holding her hands out in the shape of a heart. I laughed and walked off to refill the drinks. I found myself thinking about her comments. Sunset was right. This technically was a date—definitely one not as glamorous as our first, but it was a date nonetheless. I guess I just imagined something more… romantic, for lack of a better word. There was nothing romantic about a soda machine running out of ice.

I slid back into the booth and handed Sunset her drink. She nodded with a slight smile before taking a sip from her drink. I tapped my fingers, struggling to come up with something to talk about.

Sunset hummed. “So… how’d I look with the magic ears?”

The question caught me off guard. “Oh, um, well, they were kinda cute.”

She leaned forward. “They freaked you out a bit, didn’t they? I saw you staring.”

“I wasn’t expecting it, so yeah.” I paused and tried to think of something else to talk about. “Though, I don’t know what’s weirder, the magic ears or Rainbow being right about Spitfire.”

Sunset laughed. “Definitely Rainbow.” She dug into her fries. “Although, I’m a bit embarrassed because I totally thought Spitfire got hurt on TV. She took a really bad hit a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, I never took you as a wrestling fan,” I said, tapping my fingers against the tabletop.

Laughing weakly, Sunset averted her gaze and tugged at a loose strand of hair. “I know, it’s kind of lame and dorky, but the Wonderbolts were my heroes when I was little.” She paused for a moment. “I got to see them a few times when I was back home, and I sort of kept up with them here.”

“No, no, you don’t have to justify it,” I said, hoping to make her feel a bit easier. “I can see the appeal. The flashy, flippy fighting can be pretty exciting.”

“It is.” Sunset nodded and chuckled. She looked at her hands and avoided eye contact.“It’s a bit embarrassing to say this, but I thought it was real.”

“No way.”

“I seriously thought it was a vicious combat sport.” She smiled, her face turning a little red as she scratched the back of her head. "Though, the only reason I'm letting you know is because of all the gems in your flash drive."

I felt like I had to know more. If anything, the flash drive was a small price to pay to get some information like this. I couldn’t just drop it here. Curious, I leaned in closer. “When did you first find out it was fake?”

She winced. “A few months ago, I think.”

“No.”

“Yes…” she said with a half-chuckle.

“Well, at least I have something over you now,” I chided, unwrapping my veggie-burger. “I guess we’re even now. I have my thesis papers, and you have your wrasslin’.”

“Don’t forget, I have your Summer Sun pictures as well.”

“Of course you do,” I groaned. I still wasn't sure if I wanted her to keep looking through the thumb drive, but I was also too scared to ask for it back. “What wasn’t in that flash drive?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll both find out,” she said, a wide smile plastered on her face.

I crossed my arms. “Can we at least agree that we don’t bring any of this up to the others?”

“Deal,” Sunset agreed. “That wrestling thing stays between us. The last thing I want is Rainbow making fun of me for it. That honor goes to you and you alone.”

Once we had made the pact, we let the conversation breathe for a moment. Our eyes met. I smiled. She smiled back. We both just sat there and enjoyed the silence. It was perfect… for about twelve or so seconds.

“Did you really think wrestling was real?” I asked, laughing. I just couldn’t resist.

Sunset took a sip of her drink, shrugging. “I was adjusting to the human world, mind you. The Wonderbolts in Equestria were elite stunt flying pegasi. Very real flying.”

“Pegasi? Oh, right, Equestria…” I mumbled. “I keep forgetting.”

“Well, keep forgetting then,” she said nonchalantly, taking a bite of her veggie-burger. “Mm, this ish good,” she mumbled, pointing at her meal. “You wan’ some?”

"No thanks," I said, shaking my head. I had the same meal, and I knew she was just trying to change the subject. I didn’t call her out on it. Instead, I picked at my food, taking small bites.

“You know,” I started, “I actually ran into Spitfire the other day.” It was a half-truth, but it helped kickstart the conversation again.

She sat up. “You did?”

“Yeah,” I droned. “At the bookstore on Seventh.” Okay, that one was a straight-up lie. “Of course, I didn’t recognize her with her hair dyed.”

Chuckling, Sunset picked at her fries. “You must be kicking yourself.”

“Oh, totally,” I agreed, playing along. I faked a laugh. “We made some small talk, and I actually recommended a few books to her.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” She fell back and reclined in her seat. “Man, I’d kill to meet her.”

“Would you really?” I asked facetiously.

“Duh, of course I would,” she joked, chuckling. “Spitfire was kind of my anchor to Equestria,” she said in between bites of food. “She was on TV every Monday, and the show was something everyone at the shelter—”

She stopped talking and immediately stuffed a handful of fries in her mouth.

“Shelter?” I gasped. “As in… a homeless shelter?”

“Forget I said anything.” Sunset shifted in her seat. She dug around her tray and grimaced at the lack of fries.

Not knowing what else to do, I passed forward my tray. I wasn’t all that hungry, anyways. She looked up and me and smiled weakly. “Thanks,” she said, her voice cold as she reached for the paper tub.

I thought about what she said for a moment. And as much as I tried to avoid it, every thought about Sunset and her past made me want to know even more. It was like every little bit of information I learned about her wasn’t enough. Unfortunately, I barely knew anything about Sunset’s life in Equestria. I didn’t even know much of her life before I met her.

She was only letting me in on what she wanted to reveal, and that was frustrating because she knew everything about The Sunlight Project.

Author's Note

"People are happiest in relationships where the give and take are about equal. If one person is getting too little from the relationship, then not only are they going to be unhappy with this—the person getting the lion’s share will also be feeling rather guilty about this imbalance. This is reinforced by strong social norms about fairness." [X]

Uncertainty Reduction Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

Uncertainty Reduction Theory

“Winter’s almost over, Lyra.”

“And?”

“Spring?”

“What about it, Bon?”

“Well, you know, the Spring Fling Pageant.”

“What about it?”

“Goddess, Lyra, are you this frustrating on purpose?”

“For you, yeah.”

I bit down on the cap of my pen to keep myself from laughing. I couldn’t help but overhear them no matter how much I tried to focus on yesterday’s notes.

“What I’m saying is that you should sign up for it, Ly.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m serious. You’re smart, talented, super cool, and I’d love to be able to say that I took Miss Wondercolt to the Spring Fling dance.”

“And what about Sunset Shimmer? She always wins.”

I sat up straight, suddenly interested in their conversation. It just felt nice to be proud of her. Other students always seemed to take notice of her whenever she entered the room.

“Come on, she’s changed. It’s not like she’s gonna pull the stuff she did the other years. I think you have a real shot this time.”

Changed? What exactly did Sunset do the other years?

I fought the urge to just turn around to ask them. I almost did, but Mr. Neigh had just entered the room, and I didn’t feel like causing a disruption. Even then, I quickly regretted not speaking up. No matter how much I tried to listen to the lecture and take notes, the lingering thoughts nagged in the back of my mind. Sunset Shimmer was all over my thoughts again. This time it wasn’t as fun.

After class, I followed the two out into the halls, trailing them as I built up the courage to speak up. It actually took a bit longer than I expected as I found myself following them outside the main building and towards the soccer field. Thankfully lunch had just started, so I didn’t have to worry about showing up to class next.

They ducked behind the small bathroom building meant for visiting schools during games, and I spent a considerable amount of time rethinking if it was even a good idea to approach them. Considering their choice of hangout spot, it seemed like they did not want to be found.

I took a deep breath and quickly realized that I shouldn’t have. Forcing myself around the corner, I found them sitting against the wall. Lyra was on her phone while Bon Bon was smoking a cigarette.

Gross.

I felt a lump in my throat as I made myself known. I had to just power through it all. “Um, excuse me.”

Bon Bon recoiled and let out a yelp. She threw the cigarette at her feet and stomped on it before burying her face in her hands. Lyra quickly jumped up and stepped towards me.

“Shit, Twilight. Uh, what’re you doing here?”

“I… uh.” I stepped back.

She dropped a fist at her hip. “Before you start, we’ve heard it all from Principal Celestia already.”

“What? I wasn’t going to.” I was grasping at things to say. “I mean, she’s right. Those things are basically poison, laced with ammonia and cyanide. I don’t see how anyone could willingly—“

Bon Bon hugged her knees. Lyra stuffed her hands into her pockets.

“What are you doing here, Twilight?”

From the way she said it, I knew that it was in my best interest to make sure she didn’t ask it a third time. I pulled at my bag’s strap. “I, um, overheard you talking about the Spring pageant in physics.”

They glanced at each other. “Oh, you did?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to, but I heard you say something about Sunset and the other pageants.”

Bon Bon, still sitting down, tugged at her girlfriend’s skirt. “Lyra…”

Lyra brushed her off with her wrist. “Yeah. In a sec.” She turned her attention to me. “Listen, I know you're dating Sunset Shimmer and stuff, but I don’t think you should be asking around about this. It’s going to bring up a lot of bad memories."

Her answer was painfully cryptic. How could I not want to know more? Any of my attempts to ask Sunset herself were dodged, and the other girls were just as tight-lipped. Now it seemed like a whole school-wide conspiracy.

"Just be glad she’s different now," Bon Bon said with a kind but uncertain smile. The way she said it made it sound like she thought it made it better, but she really just made it so much worse. She finally stood up and grabbed her girlfriend by the arm. "See you later, Twilight."

I stood there and just thought about what they said as Bon Bon dragged her girlfriend away (most likely to find a new hiding spot). By the time I had come up with more questions, they were already gone.

I made my way back to our regular lunch table just in time for Sunset to pull me away to hang out on our own. We sat on the front steps of the school, and the first thing she did once we were in private was kiss me.

Small tangent, but I always found it weird how in romance novels, they described what kisses tasted like (don’t ask me how I know). It always felt like a weird (not to mention gross and creepy), unnecessary detail.

But! If I had to describe what Sunset Shimmer kisses tasted like, I would say that they were surprisingly cool and minty, like any spearmint gum you could buy at a convenience store. All it did was make me wonder if I should invest in mints to mask my own breath.

We spent most of lunch talking about absolutely nothing. I didn’t mind. It was what couples did, after all. Just talk about nothing and enjoy being near each other. We were finally doing couple things.

We even shared our lunches! I gave Sunset some of the spinach pasta salad my mom made, and she gave me some of her tater tots. (Considering this school didn’t have many vegetarian options, this was a big deal.)

I thought about mentioning the Spring Fling, but I bit my tongue first. The comments I overheard earlier made me want to approach the subject with some tact. I still wasn’t even sure if I wanted to know what those bad memories were.

“So,” I hummed, leaning against Sunset’s arm. “Winter’s almost over.”

“I guess so,” she said back. She rubbed at her sleeves. “I hope it stays cold, so I can keep wearing my jacket.”

“I overheard someone mention that there's a school dance coming up.”

“Oh. Yeah. The spring thing.” Sunset tugged at a lock of curly hair. “That’s still a few weeks away.”

“They said something about a pageant as well.”

Sunset stared down at her boots. “Right. That, too.” She perked up and flashed a smile. “You interested in signing up, Miss Summer Sun Celebration?”

“No, but I think you should,” I countered with a shake of the head. At this point, I could tell Sunset didn’t want to talk about it. Even I could see that she found pulling the laces of her boots more interesting than the topic.

“You figure out what we’re doing for Valentine’s?” Sunset asked, running from the subject. That seemed to confirm my suspicions. I sighed, figuring I could try some other time.

"Just leave it to me.” I said.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

"'Just leave it to me,' I said!" I buried my face in my arms.

If it wasn't obvious enough, I had no idea what I was going to do for our big Valentine’s date. I looked down at my notepad and groaned, disappointed with every idea I had.

Cadance entered the dining room with a bowl of chicken soup in tow. She slid it in front of me, and in return I let out a slight gurgle of appreciation. "Put that away and eat before it gets cold." She peered over my shoulder. "Coming up with date ideas?"

"Everything just sounds so done before."

"Twily," Cadance hummed, nudging the bowl of soup closer to me. "It's not your fault that you were born millions of years after the first ever romance. You're just going to have to settle with not being original." Her eyes lit up. "Oh, I know! How about we help each other with our dates?"

She ducked out the room without giving me a chance to answer, returning about half a minute later with a pair of dresses.

"The blue…" Cadance started, draping it over her shoulder and striking a pose, her back towards me. "Or the yellow?" She hung the other dress out, pouting her lips like a model in a magazine.

I looked up from my notes, twirling my pen in my hand. “The yellow.”

She scanned the dress and nodded. “You’re a regular problem solver, you.”

“If only I could solve my own problems.”

“Is something up?”

“No.” I sunk into my seat and thought about it for a moment. Surely, I was just blowing things up. If anything, it wasn’t even worth mentioning. Just me freaking out about nothing. As usual. “Well, I dunno. It sounds stupid.”

“Try me,” she hummed, setting aside the dresses and sitting next to me. “I just sat through a pile of Crystal Prep admissions essays. There was only two that I found worthwhile. Two. In a four hour reading session. That’s around forty papers.

I forced out a breathy laugh. She was probably exaggerating, but it did help to hear that. “It’s just.” I bit my cheek. “Sunset’s a little… guarded. I don’t really know how else to put it. It just feels like she’s purposefully keeping me in the dark about herself. I thought it was cool at first, but now it's just… frustrating.”

Cadance shifted in her seat. “Oh. Well.” She paused and smoothed out the crinkles in her skirt. “I’m sure she has a perfectly good reason to be private right now. Though if she really cares about you, she’ll let you in when she’s ready.”

“What if she never does?” It just flew out of my mouth.

She didn’t answer back immediately. Usually she had an answer. She always had an answer. Am I expecting too much from her? Oh gosh, what if she doesn’t know what to do? What was I supposed to do when the love expert had no idea what to do?

Cadance giggled.

“What?” I leaned over the table, the soup steaming my glasses.

“I remember being exactly in your position,” she said, nudging me back into my seat. “Trust me, it’s probably not as interesting as you think it is.”

I bit my lip. “How can you be so sure?”

“Remember when I first moved in with your brother?”

“Yeah,” I said. “What about it?”

“It was about then when I realized just how much time he spent at work.” She leaned back against the back of her chair. “I’d stay up all night, worried sick that something happened. I was a nervous wreck—especially since every time I asked him about his job, he wouldn’t say much.”

“And then?”

“I sat in with him during a twenty-four hour shift at the fire station, and he did nothing but paperwork all day.” She rubbed my shoulder. “Now, I’m not an idiot. I’m sure his boss made him do that while I was there. Maybe it was to make me feel better. Maybe it was to keep me out of the know.

“But now that I have that image of him, sitting there doing paperwork, his job doesn’t worry me as much.” She paused for a moment, putting her hand on my back. “Things just aren’t as dramatic as you think it is."

"Thanks, Cadance."

"Now go and eat your soup. Trust me, it's good.”

I figured she was right. She always was.

And yeah, she was right about the soup, too.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I decided to follow Cadance’s advice and settle with not being original. Well, technically, I came up with the idea myself, considering this was Princess Twilight’s idea of a perfect date.

The Canterlot Museum of Art was already busy, which I had anticipated. Even though we arrived about a half hour before opening, the lobby was full, and a line stretched from the ticket booths out to the outside of the building. Sunset and I shared a glance but said nothing about the wait. Instead, we took our place in the back of the line as I assured her that it was worth it.

A gentle piano tune played over the speakers, and I found myself tapping my foot with the rhythm as the artist mused about paper moons and cardboard seas.

I recognized the song, but I couldn’t remember where I had heard it. Maybe I had played its piano part in one of Crystal Prep’s concerts? No matter where my conversation with Sunset went, that song was stuck in the back of my head.

“Twilight?” Sunset asked. “You okay? You seem distracted.”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing—just zoning out, is all.”

Sunset chuckled. “I know. This line’s taking forever.”

“At least it’s moving,” I said, shuffling in place. I looked over the line. It barely shortened. "Somewhat."

It took a while, but we reached the front of the line and bought our tickets. I held Sunset’s hand as I led her inside the museum.

A marble sculpture of a man and woman intertwined sat in the center of the museum’s atrium. It was one of the many works of Star Swirl the Bearded. Each lock of hair, fold of skin, and touching imprints of the embracing couple was meticulously defined. I always found myself staring at the way the man’s thumb pulled his lover’s cheek into a smile. Even if they were made of stone, I swore that I could feel the warmth and softness of her face.

“Every time I come here, I still get blown away by this sculpture,” I said, rushing up to the base of the statue. Sunset followed along and looked over the work. “Believe it or not, Star Swirl was twenty-four when he made this.”

Sunset rubbed her arm. “Holy.”

“It really makes you want to improve yourself,” I said, leaning in to admire the precise curls in the woman’s hair. I waited for a moment, feeling my heart speed up just a little. I kissed the tips of my fingers and touched them at the base of the sculpture. "It's perfect."

Sunset chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“It’s for good luck,” I answered, reaching for Sunset’s hand. “It’s a local tradition for couples to kiss in front of The Lovers.”

Sure enough, there were already a few couples professing their love.

“Oh, is that why you brought me here?”

“Part of it.” I leaned in. She took my lead and went for the kiss, and we felt as ancient as the art on display.

After we parted, Sunset squeezed my hand. “You know, we could’ve skipped the line and just kissed outside. Would’ve saved us about an hour and twenty bucks.”

“Hush, you. I like my museums.” I pulled at her hands and gestured to a hallway in the back corner of the main room. “Come on, I want to show you more stuff. I have a whole itinerary planned out.”

"Of course you do," she said with a laugh as she rushed to keep up.

—☀—

“Clover the Clever was one of Star Swirl’s more well-known apprentices from his workshop in Roam,” I explained as I dragged Sunset through the exhibit dedicated to Clover’s oeuvre. “She wrote poetry, mostly, but she’s much more famous for her paintings.” I breezed passed most of the exhibit and stopped right in front of one of my favorite pieces on display.

The painting was based on figures from classical mythology: The Sirens of Roam. Three beautiful women surrounded a man in the center of a busy market square. A necklace with a giant ruby hung around each of their necks.(The symbolism of the gem was often the subject of contentious debate, either representing lust or greed [there was also cowardly opinion that it stood for both]).

The siren in the foreground, the orange haired leader, had the man’s attention all to herself while the other two in the background picked his pockets.

“The Sirens,” Sunset said under her breath.

“Oh, so you know this one?” I felt a grin tug at my cheeks.

“What? Oh, yeah, sure. Definitely.” Sunset said, nodding vigorously. She kept staring at the painting as if it bothered her. As much as I wanted to pry further, I decided to drop the questions and went back to talking about the painting.

“Art historians say that Clover based the appearance of the sirens on three real women. The stories say that they kept luring Star Swirl away from his workshop during her lessons with him. That also explained why Star Swirl noted that this was his favorite work of Clover’s in one of his diaries.”

“Is that so?” she asked. “You seem to know a lot.”

“Oh, well I come here quite a bit, and I like to read up about the stuff on display.” I started playing with the strap of my bag, opening and closing the button locks. “It also helps that this is one of my favorite pieces here.”

“I never took you for an art person, especially with all your science stuff.”

“Oh, you know, the humanities are a valid field of study—even if I prefer math and science.” I trailed off, shifting my weight between my feet. “There’s an art to science and a science to art.”

“You get that off a fortune cookie?”

“Motivational poster, actually."

“Ah.” There was a slight pause before Sunset locked her fingers with mine.“So,” she hummed. “Think you can tell me more about the painting?”

“Well, uh,” It was at that point where I noticed how much spit had been forming in my mouth and how slow my tongue was slow to move. I swallowed nervously. “The Roamin myth they’re based on usually portrays them as devious, evil tricksters who sap the emotions from their victims.”

“Sounds familiar."

I didn’t know what she meant by that. “I wrote a paper on this painting for my art history class back at Crystal Prep. I’ll spare you the details and get to the main thesis behind it.”

“Which was?”

“The common interpretation is that the guy’s too enamored to realize what’s going on around him,” I began, locking my fingers with Sunset’s. “I like to imagine they both are.”

“Maybe they’re better off that way,” Sunset mused. “Love is blinding.”

“Huh.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “Never thought about it that way.”

—☀—

“Aside from being an inventor and a scholar, Star Swirl the Bearded was also a world-renowned artist. Of course, he preferred being an inventor, but the New Holy Solar Empire commissioned him constantly. Although, that didn’t stop him from his research since he put most of the money he made back into his—” I cut myself off when I noticed Sunset lagging far behind.

She just stood there, staring at a painting directly in front of her. She held her hand to her mouth, and it almost seemed like she was shaking.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, walking back to her side.

She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was low. “It’s just.”

She didn’t elaborate. I kept waiting for her to continue, but she didn’t.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” That wasn’t the reason, but I wanted to give her something to latch onto.

“Yeah,” she nodded before sitting down on a small bench nearby. I joined her and held her hand. She squeezed. Her nails dug into my skin, but I didn’t mention it. I’d gotten used to her not wanting to talk.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded again.

I leaned my head against her shoulder. She seemed to appreciate it as her breathing slowed just a little.

I tried to guess what about the painting struck her. It was one of Starswirl's later paintings, definitely during his patronage period. Like all works of art from the New Holy Solar Empire era, it was religious. I recognized the painting from my art history class. We spent a whole day on it.

Star Swirl’s The Banishment of Lune.

It was a haunting piece and was his only painitng on the subject. Even then, Star Swirl’s depiction of The Sisters as galaxy bending equines became the standard for all representations from then on. It was just that important.The way he presented golden goddess, an imposing sovereign becoming the sun itself through her wrath, made it feel as if you were the target of her fury.

“Tell me about this one,” she said, holding on to my side. “Just ramble, please. I like hearing you talk about art.”

“Oh, um,” I gritted my teeth, trying to recall that day’s lecture. “Well, it was completed in 1510—on the Winter Solstice, supposedly five hundred years after the goddess Celestine banished her sister Lune and five hundred years before Lune’s supposed return.”

“She come back yet?” she joked, her voice muffled by the sleeve of my dress.

“No,” I answered. “She was supposed to bring eternal night. It never happened.”

“I can tell.” She tried to laugh, but it came out weak.

I squeezed her arm, trying to make her feel better. We held like that for a little bit, just taking in the painting together. While I had never experienced it myself, I had heard that witnessing classic works of art in person had a paralyzing effect on people. I hoped that it was the case with Sunset.

“Oh,” I hummed. “I got something for you. I was saving it for later, but now works, too.” I dug in my bag again and pulled out a bit of carefully wrapped yellow flowers. “They’re tulips.”

Sunset took the flowers. “And what do they mean?” she asked, her lips curling upwards.

“You have sunshine in your smile. I'd like to see it more.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better."

“Is it working?”

She giggled and pulled me in for another kiss. “Yes.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Can you at least give me a hint about where we’re going?” Sunset asked.

“It’s a secret,” I said as I led her down the sidewalk. I had Sunset park about a block away from our next stop. It had the added benefit of building suspense. “I mean it. That’s the hint. You’re going to have to sign a contract that won’t let you talk about what happens here.”

“Ooh, mysterious,” she hummed, seemingly accepting the answer. "What kind of contract are you talking about?"

There was a weird huskiness to her voice, but I ignored it. Why was she trying to make contracts sound hot?

Thankfully, I didn’t have to think much of it since the walk wasn’t very long. We cut through the parking lot and stopped just in front of the security booth, leading into the studios where Codename: Bravely Blue was filming. “Weird question, but you have your ID with you, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and dug inside her leather jacket.

“Okay, cool, cool.” I pulled out my credentials from my backpack. “Come with me.”

—☀—

“And action!”

Not a second after, the rain began, which was really just a set of sprinklers rigged around the set. A camera hooked up to a crane arm faced the rigged apartment window where a stuntman was quickly thrown out, landing on an inflatable crash-pad.

Then, out of the same window, Daring Do, clad in pajamas and her signature brown leather jacket and hat, emerged clutching a wad of documents and, more importantly, the map for the Sapphire Stone close to her chest, shielding it from the rain under her jacket. With one hand, she climbed out the window and onto the fire escape.

A second stunt man armed with a prop rifle bashed through a window near her. He fired at her, only missing as Daring dropped down a flight. One by one, more stuntmen dressed as henchmen began following her down the fire escape, firing at her based on the timing cues that was worked out and rehearsed for weeks. Daring ducked. Sparks flew as blanks were fired.

Daring rushed a henchman blocking her way, grabbing his rifle and bashing him in the face with it. The simulated rain continued to be a hinderance as the adventurer had trouble getting a good grip on the slick steel bars as she tried to jump another flight. She was hanging with no other options as more enemies spilled from her apartment window. She looked down then back up at the rows of oncoming thugs.

Without hesitating, she let go.

Daring landed in a prop dumpster, the crash pads obscured by a layer of garbage bags full of foam. After a half second to catch her breath, she flopped out of the dumpster and scrambled to her feet, rushing out the alley and turning the corner into the streets.

"And cut!" My father jumped up from his position behind the camera as the technicians working behind the scenes broke into mild applause. All the actors and the stuntmen got up from their final positions, helping each other down the slippery set. "Let's break while the crew resets! We'll start from the top when we get back.”

I turned towards Sunset, who had been clutching the armrests of her chair. "Pretty intense, right?"

Sunset nodded. “Seems pretty crazy to see how it’s all put together.”

“I know right. When it’s all done, you won’t even see any of the seams. You see exactly what the movie wants you to see. Movie magic!” I threw my hands up and smiled. “It’s exciting, but I bet it can’t even hold a candle to real Equestrian magic.”

It seemed like Sunset didn’t appreciate that comment. She only squirmed in her seat and mumbled something that I couldn’t catch. I didn’t bother following up. I then kicked myself for thinking it was something good to say. Why couldn’t she just humor me once?

“C’mon,” I spoke up, changing the subject. “Follow me. We’re gonna see Spitfire.”

Sunset tilted her head, as if expecting some kind of go-ahead from someone else. I figured the meeting with the lawyers scared her. "We could do that? Won’t we get in trouble?”

“As long as we don’t tell anyone what happened here, no,” I answered. “So do you want to meet her?”

I couldn’t possibly describe the way Sunset’s face lit up.

So I won’t.

—☀—

I led Sunset over to Spitfire’s trailer. Everyone else was busy prepping the next shot, figuring out the next placement of the camera, tightening up the lighting. A lot of an actor’s day on set was really just sitting around and waiting for the next take (especially on big, elaborate productions such as this one), so that gave me time to introduce Sunset to Daring Do herself.

I knocked at the door, and there was a muffled “Come in!” from the other side of the door.

This time, I will elaborate on the way Sunset’s face lit up. In great detail.

As it turned out, she only had one dimple on her face. That explained why she smirked a lot. She also had a chipped tooth in the left side of her mouth, opposite of the dimple. It was a full blown, childishly toothy smile that I wanted to see everyday. I hung onto the genuine excitement in her eyes, its corners slightly wrinkled.

“Is this your girl?” Spitfire asked, gesturing towards Sunset. I nodded. Spitfire chuckled approvingly. “She looks a bit like me.”

I laughed awkwardly. “Really? I don’t see the resem—“

“I get that a lot,” Sunset chimed in, cutting me off. She twirled a lock of hair with her finger. "I just want to say that I’m a big fan. Seeing you on TV every week gave me something to look forward to.”

Spitfire smiled but seemed a little caught off guard. “That's humbling. I appreciate you telling me that.” Just a moment later, her sly expression returned. “Helps keep the ego healthy.”

Sunset made a noise that was caught halfway between a laugh and a hum. I had never seen her get this way before. Then again, it wasn’t often that she wasn’t undeniably the coolest person in the room. (She was to me, but still). Spitfire was a tough act to beat, yet I found myself just watching Sunset gush on about something called a burning hammer. I didn’t know what a thing they were saying meant, but the way Sunset was excited made me excited.

“You weren’t kidding when you said your girl was a fan,” she said, patting my back a little too roughly. I rubbed at it to ease the pain. “You both have great taste.”

It was my turn to get flustered as I barely managed to let out an embarrassed, “Thanks.”

Sunset thrust her phone into my chest. "Twilight, Twilight, take our picture!"

I did as I was told, holding up the phone and laughing as Spitfire put her in a headlock. If Spitfire hadn't dyed her hair gray for the role, I would have guessed they were sisters.

It took a few minutes of being their photographer before I realized that this was supposed to be my date with Sunset.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset drove me home. We rode on her bike, and for once, I didn’t mind riding up the hill. The wind blowing against me felt nice—a bit chilly, but nice.

We stopped at the driveway, and Sunset helped me dismount (even though I didn’t need it). We made our way inside my house where I had dinner waiting in a slow cooker. It was a simple sweet potato soup, which was souped up with lentils and red bell peppers. It was even vegan!

I led Sunset to the dinner table, which I had painstakingly set up and decorated like a fancy restaurant. An unlit candle sat in the center of the table, and there were no waiters in sight. The utensils were set, wrapped up in a cloth napkin. The table cloth had an ornate looking design that I picked up at a local thrift shop.

Everything was perfect.

Sunset took a seat at the table while I made my way into the kitchen.

I mentioned once before that I wasn’t much of a chef. So, of course, I had a little help preparing our meal for the evening. My mom spent the morning teaching me how to operate the slow cooker, which meant she pretty much did most of the work while I watched and took notes.

If everything was timed correctly, then I would just have a little bit left on my end.

Sunset sat off on the dinner table, tapping her fingers idly. I smiled and hummed along to the music playing on a stereo. It was pretty much just ambiance to set the mood. It worked. At least I thought it worked. Sunset didn’t seem to mind at least.

I looked over to the slow cooker. It was steaming, which was a good sign according to my notes and what my mom told me. Everything seemed to slot perfectly in place for the moment, so I joined Sunset back at the table to talk while we waited.

“Hey."

“Hi.” I found myself not really knowing what to do with my hands. I put them on the table, balled them into fists, and when that didn't help, I laid them back out flat on the table. Then I brought them to my legs and squeezed at my kneecaps. I had to think of something to talk about otherwise I would have kept fiddling with my hands for a while.

“Today was fun,” she said, smiling.

It felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I let out a breath, which Sunset thankfully didn’t notice. I was in the homestretch with just a lovely candlelit dinner to cap the night off.

It was textbook romance.

“So,” I said, my voice trailing off.

“So,” she responded, mimicking my inflection. “You said your dad was a movie buff, right? I think that claim might have been too modest.”

I nodded, grateful for the conversational life raft she threw me. “Yup! Though, in my defense, I was legally bound to keep his current project a secret. And now you are, too.”

“It’s our secret then,” she mused, playing with a lock of her hair. “What should I tell the other girls?”

“NDA,” I answered. “Or if you want to be mysterious, tell them you’re contractually obligated not to tell them about our date.”

Sunset laughed. “That’s going to drive Rarity wild.”

“Oh gosh, you’re right.” I wasn’t sure if it was okay to laugh. “I don’t think I can keep it from her all too long. She has a way of prying information from people. Still, it's kinda fun to have our little secret, right?”

“Right. Secrets.” She looked down at the floor for a moment as if looking for something. “Can I at least show Rainbow Dash the picture? I need to see her reaction. She’s gonna be so jealous when she sees I met her heroes.”

“One day,” I said. “My mom will let me know when we’re allowed to post set photos.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah, she’s producing the film. And she wrote the screenplay… and apparently maybe had a hand in editing A.K. Yearling’s manuscripts.”

“Shut up. You’re lying.” Sunset was leaning in. “So you’re telling me you know the people who wrote my fillyhood—childhood! Childhood.” The excitement left her eyes in an instant.

“You can talk about Equestria,” I said. “I’d like to hear it.”

“I don’t want to.” It was articulated tightly. She looked off towards a counter, where my parents kept a ton of framed family pictures. I had a feeling that she would act that way. It didn’t help that I felt myself getting frustrated. “Just… stop asking about it, please. And don’t ask about the Spring Fling.”

Where did that come from? She wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore.

Neither was I.

“Why? I overheard the other day that you won it last year—and the year before that, and your freshman year, too.”

“I did.” Her voice was a whisper.

“How’d you win?”

“Popularity. It’s a popularity contest.”

“As a freshman?" I asked, the disbelief clear in my voice. "The Fall Formal and the Spring Fling?”

I didn’t even know why I kept pressing her. Maybe it was because I was frustrated. Who knows? It just felt unfair that she knew all about my embarrassing past and The Sunlight Project. She’d seen it all,but I knew next to nothing about her. She wouldn't even give me this.

“I thought she would have been proud of this sort of thing. What do you have to be ashamed of? It's not like you cheated or anything.”

Sunset glared right through me but didn’t deny it. She laid her hands out on the table.

"Oh, my goddess, you cheated didn't you?" I asked. My voice was flat. It wasn’t even an accusation, just an ill-timed realization. In that moment, I regretted what I said. I didn’t even know how that thought entered my mind. From the look in her eyes, I knew I opened some door that she didn't appreciate me opening.

“Just… leave it alone, okay?”

This time, I just couldn’t let it go. “But everyone else knows you but me. You know a lot more about me than I do about you. I’m your girlfriend, but I feel like I barely know you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Without another word, Sunset stood up and left the dining room. I followed her only to hesitate and watch as she forced on her jacket and rushed out the house. The door hung open, and a cold breeze entered the room. I watched her jump on her bike and drive away.

I could have chased her. I should have chased her. Wasn’t I supposed to do that?

Instead, I just sat on the couch and ate alone.

Author's Note

“The Uncertainty Reduction Theory asserts that people have a need to reduce uncertainty about others by gaining information about them… Reducing uncertainty is particularly important in relationship development, so it is typical to find more uncertainty reduction behavior among people when they expect or want to develop a relationship.” [X]

This story is complete. I'm sorry for making you wait. The new chapters will be released as they're edited and finalized. I assure you, this story is complete.

Give all thanks and love to fourths and MarvelandPonder. I don't deserve it.

Social Penetration Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

Social Penetration Theory

“Aww, baby’s first fight.”

“Not funny, Sour Sweet.”

Sunny Flare crossed her arms and scowled, a gesture that came naturally to every student at Crystal Prep. She paced back and forth along the steps leading up to the girls’ dorms. Her boots scratched against the bricks, echoing across the near silent courtyard. In my attempt to take my mind off from everything, I hung onto the noise. It didn’t work.

I thought about the date and how it ended. Even then, I still didn’t know what made it all go wrong. I could recall the slight bend in her brow as the argument grew intense, the way her fingernails dug into the palm of her hand, draining the color from her skin. I could pick apart every single detail in the room, but I just had no idea what happened.

I needed help. Again. I know.

After Sunset left, I called my Shadowbolt friends. It was an emergency. I needed someone to talk to, and I didn’t want to drag my CHS friends in the middle of it. Because... they were in the middle of it. The last thing I wanted was for them to pick sides, but I knew they were Sunset’s friends before they were ever mine. It could only get messy.

At least I was lucky to have these girls. I couldn't imagine having to go through the night without someone to help me out of my headspace.

“So she just bailed?” Lemon Zest asked.

I nodded. “I don’t even know how it started.”

“What do you mean?” Sunny asked, finally stopping her pacing and taking a seat on the step next to me.

"It's stupid," I said, not lying, but I did keep some choice details out. There was no way that they would believe the whole magic horse universe part of the story. "I think she might be hiding some things about herself from me."

"Spill the tea, girl,” Lemon said.

"Yeah," Sugarcoat sang along. "You know we feed on drama."

I groaned. "I left Crystal Prep to get away from the drama.”

"You're a Shadowbolt," Indigo Zap pointed out. "Drama's in your blood."

“Integrity, excellence, drama, and a healthy dose of elitism,” Sugarcoat said, doing her best impression of Principal Cinch. “Expectations. Expectations.”

“What? No!” I felt my face twist up. “Just forget I said anything. It was a bad idea to even come here. It’s late.”

I checked my phone. Nine-thirty. Crystal Prep’s campus would close for visitors soon once curfew came around at ten. I didn’t really plan to stay here long anyway. I just needed to vent and possibly cry.

Lemon Zest took my hand, as if she sensed I was tensing up. “C’mon, we can at least make your visit worth the effort.”

“I don’t know if I should…”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

We made our way to the dorm building’s common room, the one part of the campus open to students late at night. I sat down in the old seat I used to occupy during my time at Crystal Prep. It was comforting to be somewhere familiar, even if I hadn’t been there in a while. It still felt like my own space where I could curl up and spend the weekend with a good book.

I put my head down, closed my eyes, and tried to think about literally anything else. I’d find a way to make up for it. I just needed the time away.

"So this is where you sat all this time, huh?"

I yelped as I found Lemon Zest standing over my shoulder. "What?"

Lemon gestured towards my seat. "You're basically hiding in the corner."

“Oh,” I hummed, still a bit out of it.

It wasn't worth arguing, so I decided to just stay quiet as the other girls took their seats at the table. Sugarcoat passed out small cups of coffee. The lounge’s coffee machine was the only thing students at Crystal Prep didn’t mind sharing.

Sugarcoat passed a cup to me, and I shook my head. "No thanks. I don't like coffee." I could feel several glares pointed at me.

"You don't?" Sunny flare asked. "Then what did you drink during all nighters in The Hovel?”

"I never needed to do one," I explained. "I'm pretty good at managing time."

"How are we friends?" Sugarcoat lazily took a sip of her drink.

I shrugged, and she smiled back at me.

"We're in the same boat, Twilight," Lemon said, putting her arm around my shoulder. "It makes me feel a little on edge, but I need it if I'm gonna get any homework done."

"I just don't like the taste," I admitted. "I don't see the appeal. And I never really liked how people normalize caffeine dependency.”

“Already looking down at us on our caffeine addiction,” Sugarcoat said, shaking her head. “So judgy, despite her immature palate.”

“So judgy,” Sour Sweet echoed.

I raised my voice. “I’m not judgy.” I looked over to the coffee cup in Sugarcoat’s hands and watched a cloud of steam waft from the opening. “Actually, I wish I could enjoy it. I love the smell, and there’s a really sophisticated aesthetic that comes with coffee and cafes that I really like.”

“Like those starving artist types and smoking.” Lemon mimed taking a puff from a cigarette. “So hot.”

“So hot,” Sour Sweet echoed.

“Ugh.” Sunny Flare groaned and stuck out her tongue. “My sister’s a smoker.”

“You know why smoking is associated with the whole starving artist thing?” Sugarcoat said, barreling over Sunny’s comment.

“Why?” Indigo asked, humoring Sugarcoat as she took a sip of her own drink.

“It curbs appetite,” Sunny answered.

“Ouch.” Indigo rubbed her arm.

“Yeah, that,” Sugarcoat said before taking a swig of coffee. “Don’t look into it. It gets really sad.”

“So sad,” Sour Sweet echoed.

"You know what else is sad?" Lemon spoke up, pounding her fist on the table. She gestured to me. ”Twilight."

I just realized I was staring at the tabletop. "Hmm?"

"I'm just saying," Lemon continued. "We've been dicking around doing what we like to do. We never even asked Twilight what she wants to do."

"You're right," Indigo said, playfully shoving at my shoulder. "So? What d'ya wanna do, champ?”

"I want to go home."

"That's the spirit!" Sour Sweet cheered. “Anyone else have a better idea?”

Sunny Flare grinned. I didn’t like the sign of that.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

One by one, my Shadowbolt friends jumped into the Crystal Prep swimming pool. They cheered and called out choice phrases as they leapt into the water. I had no interest in joining them. Instead, I just dipped my feet in the pool and watched the girls play around the crystal clear waters. I bobbed my head to the music playing on a radio Sunny apparently had stashed behind a set of bleachers.

“C’mon, Twilight!” Sunny Flare yelled. “You’re not gonna get over it if you just sit there all by yourself.”

The other Shadowbolts nodded, which looked kind of funny since only their heads stuck out from the surface.

"You just gonna sit there and throw yourself a pity party?" Lemon swam up to the edge of the pool. She tugged at my ankle as she leaned one arm over the the lip.

“At least make it a pity pool party!” Sour Sweet cheered, her voice way too sugary as she floated onto her back and lazily kicked her way to the center of the pool.

"What if we get in trouble?" I asked, eying the door, half expecting someone to burst through and drag us into the security center, leaving a trail of incriminating pool water in our wake.

"Oh, relax," Sour Sweet hummed. "We get caught, we get a slap on the wrist, my daddy donates enough to build a new wing of the library, and we all go get ice cream after. It'll be great."

That explained a lot.

"We do this like once every few months,” Sugarcoat explained. "Usually we order food, rent a DJ, invite some other guys and gals, and make a whole night of it."

"Either security gave up after the first few or stopped caring," Indigo Zap added. "As long as Cinch doesn't find out, no one cares."

Even if that was the reigning attitude at Crystal Prep, I still didn't feel right about it. Lemon seemed to sense it as he hopped up on the lip of the pool and wrapped her soaking arm around my shoulder. Had I not changed into a loaner set of gym clothes, I would have been less appreciative.

"You came to us to forget about what happened, right?" She already reeked of chlorine. "You're only making it worse if you refuse to have fun."

"Take the plunge, Twilight!"

"Do it! Do it! Do it!"

The rest of the girls joined Indigo's chant, and I found myself put on the spot as they rallied under the power of peer pressure. I was already here, and maybe letting go of everything would be good for me.

I took off my glasses and set it to the side. The girls disappeared into blurs, colorful shapes that seemed to approve of my decision to join. I stood up and took a few steps back before charging straight towards the pool and jumping in. The water was freezing, and after the shock, I felt my tensions slip into the water. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the depths like a stone.

I dropped to the bottom, and the music got more muffled the deeper I went until I was sitting crosslegged on the pool’s floor. On particularly stressful days, I’d do the same in the pool at home. However, the one here was much, much deeper. Still, it felt nice.

During my impromptu meditation session, I realized that I never really used the pool here. It was open on weekends and during P.E. periods. However, I was just content to sit in the bleachers or walk laps.

Now, I was sneaking in at the middle of the night when I didn’t even go here anymore.

Floating back to the top, I rejoined the others back in the real world. I gasped for air, only to be met with a wave of water thrown in my face.

"Didn't think you'd try to drown yourself already," Sugarcoat joked.

I shoved the water back. Not funny.

The rest of the girls joined in. Indigo splashed at Sugarcoat while Lemon dragged Sunny under the surface in a display that looked like they were trying to drown each other.

I accidentally caught a mouthful of pool water as Sour Sweet ambushed me. I coughed it out. My eyes stung, leaving me open to further attack.

My defensive maneuver was simple. I ducked back down into the water, watching the battle below as flailing limbs went everywhere. I barely avoided getting hit in the head by a stray knee as I dove deeper, retreating into the depths.

The girls seemed so focused on each other, so I swam away to the edge of the pool and climbed out, taking a seat and watching the action from a safe distance. Eventually, the girls seemed to tire themselves out and returned to coasting. Sour was back to floating in the water as if she hadn't just tried to drown someone.

"What are we gonna do when we graduate?" Lemon asked. "I'm gonna miss these pool parties."

"I'm not gonna miss this school," Sunny added. "We can always find some poor sucker's pool to bum off."

"I have a pool," I said, kicking at the water. "I can host it at my place. Where it's legal."

"Low blow, Twilight!" Lemon laughed and tapped her temple. "Besides, you can't trespass if you never left the campus."

It was some flawed reasoning, but I didn't argue.

Sugarcoat joined me outside the water and began wringing out her hair. "With that logic, Twilight's the only one breaking the law."

"Well, if she's in deep, might as well go all in," Sunny said, drying herself off. "I got an idea I always wanted to do."

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I didn’t know why or how I had let them talk me into this. The trip to Cadance’s office was nerve-racking. At any moment, I felt like I was about to trip an alarm or walk past a camera. The only reassurance I had was a “chill, Twi,” from the others and the confidence they had while walking the halls. Though, I wasn't sure if that made it more off putting.

After a harrowing two hours (really about half minute) of Lemon Zest picking the lock, we all stepped inside the empty office. The girls went straight for the filing cabinet tucked in the corner of the room by her desk. I, meanwhile, lingered around and took in the office.

It had been a while since I was in Cadance’s office. In fact, the last time I was here was when I was still drafting The Sunlight Project. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been about four or so months. And dating Sunset only really took about half of that time. Maybe even less.

The girls dug into the filing cabinet. And if I were to guess, they were looking for each other’s student files. Unfortunately, I was proven right as Sugarcoat was the first to emerge with Indigo Zap’s folder and a mischievous glint in her eye as she flipped through it.

“Holy shit, your GPA’s a two-point-three?” Sugarcoat shamed, flipping through the sheets.

“Gimme that!” Indigo cried as she swiped the folder from her hands. "Dick."

“Sour, you bitch,” Lemon hummed with a lilt, getting everyone’s attention while digging through Sour Sweet’s file. “You never told me you were from Manehattan. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

Sour Sweet stuck out her tongue playfully. “You should totally come over to my place some day.” Her expression immediately soured. “Though, you can hang out with the rats in the boiler room, and it’d be the same thing.”

I tuned them out as I sat in Cadance’s chair and sunk right into the leather. It seemed that even her chair had a comforting presence to it. I looked over her desk and found a stack of papers: nothing interesting—CPA admissions papers, student transcripts. Then, on the corner of the desk, I noticed a framed picture of her and my brother. I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re overthinking it,” I whispered to myself. “Maybe it isn’t all that important.”

My thoughts were quickly interrupted the moment I realized they were reading into my file.

“Twilight Sparkle, perfect GPA, no disciplinary action.” Sunny Flare scoffed. “How the hell do you have a clean sheet? So boring.”

“So boring,” Sour Sweet echoed.

“Hey!” I yelped, reaching for the folder. I barely managed to grab it. “Don’t look at that.”

“What? Afraid I’m gonna find something embarrassing?” Sunny asked. “The worst thing I found was asthma.”

Sour Sweet pointed at me. “Ha-ha, your lungs suck.”

It quickly devolved into a fast paced insult session as they picked up choice details about the others from their student records. In rapid succession, I learned that Lemon ditched class often, Indigo Zap had been suspended for getting into a fight, and Sugarcoat had been caught with contraband in her dorm several times. i didn't catch what it was exactly, but I hoped to never find out.

Are these the kind of people I should be hanging out with?

I was perfectly fine sitting back and avoiding the mudslinging, but then I felt a jab on my shoulder and turned to see that Lemon handed me Sunny Flare’s file.

“Looks like Twilight’s getting in on the fun,” Lemon exclaimed, and I noticed that all the girls were looking at me to say something.

Sunny laughed. “Can she even get it out with her asthma?”

I wasn’t sure if it was spite or the feeling of wanting to be included, but I flipped open the folder and read the first thing under the medical section. “I wouldn’t be talking for someone who was put in the infirmary for...” My stomach dropped as I read the words on the page. "Oh, gods..."

"What?" Lemon asked as she bumped into my shoulder to get a better look at the page. The other girls did the same. "Holy shit."

The color drained from Sunny's face. “They put that on there!?”

“Oh, my goddess, I’m so sorry,” I managed to squeak out. Sunny didn’t respond.

“Oh shit,” Indigo said as she looked to the others.

“Yeah, this stopped being funny real fast,” Sugarcoat noted.

Lemon turned to face Sunny, looking just as hurt as she was. “When was this?”

Sunny stared at the floor. “Sophomore year.”

“Wait,” Lemon said as if on the verge of remembering something. She put her hand over her mouth. “You told me you had mono.” She stepped back. “Why didn’t you tell me ? I could’ve—”

Sugarcoat stepped in between the two. “Not here. Calm down and just breathe.”

Lemon and Sunny nodded. Sugarcoat volunteered in collecting the folders and placing them back in the cabinet.

“Sunny,” I called before she stepped out of the room. She stopped, turned to me, and I could see the pain in her eyes. I didn't know what to do, what to say. I just felt awful about it. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say anything.

—☀—

With the mood brutally murdered by yours truly, we made our way back to the dorm rooms. Surprisingly, there were a few other students still hanging out around the dorm’s halls at this hour. Sour Sweet led me to her room. About a minute or two later, Lemon entered and took a seat at her desk.

“Sunny’s not mad,” Lemon said, somehow reading my mind. “It kinda caught us all off guard.”

“I still feel bad.” I sighed.

“You should,” Sour Sweet commented. “Though, none of us could have known.”

Lemon Zest rolled her eyes. The room was still quiet until the rest of the girls entered the dorm. Sunny Flare entered last, wrapped in a blanket. She took a seat on the bed across from me.

“Sunny, I’m—”

“None of this leaves this room,” Sunny said, looking the others in the eye. Everyone nodded. She looked at me last, and I did the same.

She took a minute to start talking again after a few false starts. “I hate my sister.” She let the statement hang in the air as she took a breath. It seemed as if she had finally been able to take one again. “She doesn’t know I feel this way, but I do.”

I looked to the others. Everyone just kept quiet. I followed their lead.

“She’s a model, one with great grades—a fucking unicorn, I know,” Sunny continued. “And everyone loved her here, teachers too. You girls know how stupid this school is. If you’re related to someone, you have to be just like them or better.”

She was right. Cinch had used my brother to strong-arm me into joining the Friendship Games. And that was only the latest in said incidents. I was just lucky that I turned out to be a better student than he was.

“And I know Dean Cadenza says I shouldn’t blame my sister, but—” Sunny gritted her teeth. “It’s because of my sis that I feel this way. I’m not her. I’m not as pretty. I’m not as smart. I’m not…” Sunny bit down on her fist, and I could barely make out the tears in her eyes. Lemon rubbed her back before bringing her in for a side hug.

“Cadance helped you out?” I asked.

Sunny nodded, taking her fist out from her mouth. Her teeth had dug into her knuckles, and I stared at them for way too long. “She helped me get through it all.” She didn’t have to say it. “We even still meet up for counseling every other week even though she's the dean now. When I get out of this hellhole, I want to be a counselor like she was.”

The room fell quiet again. Lemon continued to gently rub Sunny’s shoulder. "If it means anything, I hate your sister, too," Lemon said, earning a weak laugh from Sunny. "And I'll beat up her and anyone who makes you feel that way." She leaned closer into Sunny's face. "Including you, Sunny. So quit being mean to my best friend. I won't let this stupid school win, and you shouldn't either."

Sunny Flare bobbed her head, finally smiling.

“Soccer’s the only thing I have going for me,” Indigo Zap said with brutal honesty. “I tweaked my ankle last season, and that’s all I could think about. My grades suck, and if I get hurt real bad again, any scholarships offers I have are gonna dry up. The worst part is that everyone thinks I’m not trying.”

Sugarcoat put her hand on Indigo’s knee. “I can tutor you. I’m not a miracle worker, but it’s not too late to build up some good habits.”

“Thanks.”

“My step-mom’s the reason I’m here,” Sour Sweet spoke out, a hint of vitriol in her tone. “She’s only five years older than me, but she won and convinced my dad to ship me across the country. "

“Oof, that's rough," Lemon said.

Sour Sweet shrugged. "At least it worked out in the end since I’m friends with you assholes.”

Indigo Zap laughed, and the other girls joined her.

“What about you, Sug?” Sunny asked. “There’s got to be something bothering you.”

“I got nada.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “I’m well adjusted,” she said, emphasizing her usual smugness with a sharp breath through her nose. “You’re the ones that are messed up.”

“Lucky you,” Sour Sweet said. "But it wouldn't hurt to open up."

"Open up." Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. "The only reason we're doing this because we've all seen The Breakfast Club."

Indigo Zap crossed her arms. "You can stop being so defensive."

"Can it, Sporto," Sugarcoat snapped, her pigtails whipping in the air.

"Ooh, can I be the nympho?" Lemon Zest asked.

"She wasn't a nympho. She was just weird," Sunny said.

Lemon smiled. "I'll take it as long as you're the super cool princess."

Sunny Flare nestled into the blanket around her shoulders, seemingly receptive to the compliment.

Sugarcoat pointed to Sour Sweet. "The Criminal." Then to me. "The Nerd."

I didn't protest, despite the heat on my face. It seemed like they needed the laugh.

With that, the air of the conversation had completely changed. It seemed like the girls had forgotten about everything, already as they laughing and joking with each other again. I just sat there, dumbfounded that they could even do something like that as the entire tone in the room changed in only a few seconds.

Once the conversations ended, the girls made their ways back to their own dorms. When it was just me, Sour Sweet, and Lemon left in the dorm room, I spoke up, "So, are we just gonna forget what happened with Sunny?"

"No. I’ll keep an eye on her,” Lemon said as she stared at the door. “But I know her, and the last thing she'd want is any one of us treating her like a different person or that she’s any lesser. She’s our friend. She’s your friend. Remember that.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I woke up in Lemon Zest’s bed.

No, nothing happened last night. The girls just didn’t want me walking home that late. Taking a bus wasn't an option either, so that left crashing in Lemon and Sour's dorm room.

“Good morning, Twily.”

The voice was familiar, but in my groggy state, I couldn’t piece together who it was. None of my Crystal Prep friends knew that nickname, so that only left.

Oh, jeez.

Cadance!

“H-hey, Sis?” I stammered, sitting up and looking my future sister in law in the eyes. Wait, was this the first time I called her that?

“Don’t Sis me.” Cadance crossed her arms. I could tell she wasn’t really mad, just a little annoyed and mostly disappointed, the guidance counselor special.

I heard an entertained snort. Scanning the room, I spotted Lemon Zest and Sour Sweet sitting off in a corner, grins on their faces.

“Sorry, Twi,” Sour said, a clear lack of sincerity in her voice. “The R.A. snitched.”

“Thank gods they told Dean Cadenza,” Lemon commented. “I’d rather not deal with Cinch or detention.”

“We’ll be discussing that later,” Cadance said.

“Shit.”

“Language, Miss Zest,” Cadance sighed, throwing a quick side-eye in their direction.

“Sorry, Dean Cadenza.”

Cadance turned her attention towards me. “What are you even doing here?”

I hesitated, remembering everything that happened yesterday. “I just needed to talk.”

She didn’t seem to accept that answer. “And what’s wrong with talking over the phone? Or with your other friends?”

There was an unsaid: “Why didn’t you come to me?” but I didn’t have an answer to that one either. Instead, I shrugged.

Cadance sighed. “Just grab your stuff. I’ll drive you home before anyone else sees you here.”

I forced on my shoes and put on my sweater. I waved goodbye to the girls before following Cadance out the door and into the hall. I got a few looks from some of the students hanging out in the dorm building who remembered me, but I didn’t pay all too much attention to them.

Once we got to the parking lot, Cadance sighed. “Do your parent’s know you’re sneaking out at night?”

I shook my head. “No, they’re out of town for work.”

“And that makes it okay?” The Dean Cadenza voice returned again.

I stared at the asphalt and kicked at a pebble. “No.”

“So why’d you do it?” she asked, putting her hand on her hip.

I bit my lip, and I felt my breaths get a little unstable as I looked up at her. “Sunset and I got in a fight.”

Her stern expression melted. “Oh, Twilight,” she hummed as she brought me in for a tight hug. I sunk into her shoulder.

“Sorry,” I said, remembering exactly why I didn’t come to her in the first place. Whether it was intentional or not, she always made me feel like a child. And here I was, blubbering to her about my problems again.

After a night of teenage angsty soul searching, I still didn’t know who was in the wrong. Why did everything have to be so complicated? I didn't have any of the answers I came here for. However at the very least, I knew I could confide in my Shadowbolt friends.

Even with their issues, they were the type of girls I should be friends with.

Author's Note

“Social penetration describes the process of bonding that moves a relationship from superficial to more intimate (Altman & Taylor, 1973). Social penetration is specifically accomplished through self‐disclosure, the purposeful process of revealing information about oneself (Derlega, Metts, Petronio, & Margulis, 1993). Self‐disclosure increases intimacy in relationships to a certain point. Social penetration can occur in different contexts including romantic relationships (e.g., Taylor & Altman, 1975, 1987), friendships, social groups (for example, religious groups or soccer clubs), and work relationships.” [x]

I always considered this story as a bit of a coming of age story as well as a SciSet shipfic. This chapter just pushes it more in that direction.

Relative Deprivation Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

Relative Deprivation Theory

“Do you want something to eat?” Cadance asked, breaking the silence in the car.

I shrugged. “Sure."

Cadance nodded, turning into the parking lot of a diner on the side of the road. I kept quiet, following her in mopey silence as we entered the restaurant. We took a booth at the end of the building, right by a window. Outside was a rather unassuming collection of businesses: liquor stores, a laundromat, and tax services. Totally uninteresting aside from it being somewhat near Sunset’s apartment.

“Twily? Are you alright? You’re spacing out.”

“Oh, um, sleepy.” I gave her a tight lipped smile.

Cadance nodded in understanding as a waitress came around.

“Hey there.” The waitress flipped open her little notepad. “Can I get ya started on something to drink?”

“A coffee for me please.” Cadance put on a sweet voice. She glanced over at me. “And an orange juice?”

“Coffee actually,” I said, completely on a whim. The waitress nodded and walked away, leaving me and Cadance alone again.

“Since when did you drink coffee?”

“I don’t,” I said, a bit too matter-of-factly. I slapped my cheek. “I just need to wake up.”

“Right.” Cadance averted her eyes, seemingly remembering why I was with her in the first place. Last night felt like it was another life. Like I was a different person with my Crystal Prep friends.

Maybe I changed somehow. Maybe I came out of it a cool coffee person.

As it turned out, I did not. Coffee was still terrible. Although, I couldn’t really differentiate between bad or good coffee. It all tasted the same. I simply took a sip, felt my face instinctively shrivel up, and pushed it towards the center of the table.

I could feel my future sister-in-law judging me from behind her own cup. “Well, at least you’re awake.”

“Yeah,” I said, turning my gaze out the window. I watched a few cars go down the street. Even if it was the weekend, they were still buzzing around like worker bees getting where they needed.

A man in a motorcycle passed the diner, and I briefly wondered if Sunset would ever teach me how to ride her bike.

I wasn’t sure if it was the coffee’s aftertaste, but everything felt bitter at the thought of Sunset. The sting of last night came back, and I found myself desperately wanting to forget it even happened.

Cadance tapped her fingers against the table. It took a while for me to notice that I was staring at her engagement ring. I knew that it took years of dating for my brother to finally give her that, but I couldn’t help but be jealous of that simple declaration of eternal love. Sure, Sunset and I were still feeling things out, but it would feel really nice to just know.

I considered asking if she ever got into any big arguments with my brother but decided against it. If they stung anything like the one I had last night, it was better off that I didn’t bring up that topic.

Thankfully, my savior came in the form of a stack of fluffy pancakes. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I attacked the pile, tearing through it without syrup. It didn’t take long before my mouth went dry. I reached for my coffee, only to forget that the drink was served stupidly hot.

With my tongue burnt, I choked on the traitorous pancakes that had kept my mind off Sunset. Cadance leapt to my side and hit my back until I had hacked and coughed it out, a sloppy chunk spilling out onto the table. It was then when I noticed that I had caused a scene in the half empty restaurant. Critical eyes and stolen glances were sent in my direction from all sides.

“Twilight,” Dean Cadenza began. “You’re the smartest girl I know, but sometimes I wonder how you’re still alive.”

I didn’t answer her right away. Instead, I mopped up my puddle of coffee and picked up the offending piece of breakfast with a napkin. “Sorry, I was trying to think about literally anything other than—”

“Than?”

Right out the window, I noticed Sunset Shimmer standing right across the street.

I found it funny how life seemed to wrap things together neatly. Just as I was thinking about Sunset, she reappeared in my life. I didn't even bother explaining to Cadance what I was doing, instead giving her a halfhearted mumble with a mouthful of pancakes. Though, I probably should have said something more intelligible before I decided to run into traffic.

I rushed out of the diner and fought the urge to call Sunset's name until I was within earshot. I could barely make out the look of surprise on her face. Though, I knew she was caught off guard as she dropped whatever she was eating. In her surprise, she stepped on it. Unfortunate, but kinda funny.

"Sunset!"

"Twilight?"

I was half out of breath when I stopped in front of her. I adjusted my glasses, and I could feel a goofy grin slide up my face.

She rubbed her hands down on her stained sweatpants, as if she were attempting to clean it off with a few swipes. She coughed as she pulled the bottom of her tank top back down over her stomach. It rode back up, but she kept pinching at it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, beating me to the punch.

I giggled. "I was just about to ask the same thing. I was out grabbing breakfast with my brother's fiancée."

She pivoted on the ball of her foot and half gestured over to the inside of the laundromat, where about a couple dozen washing machines and dryers sat. "Just taking care of stuff."

"Must be a drag," I said, leading the conversation. “Coming all the way here from your apartment just to do your laundry."

"Helps me think," she said, a bit nonplussed.

“Oh, cool, cool.” This conversation wasn’t going anywhere. “Got anything interesting coming up?”

Sunset shot me a unimpressed look. “I’m going grocery shopping later. It’s going to be a rager.”

I laughed politely. I knew she was being facetious, but it stung a little. I decided to just play along. “Sounds like fun.”

“Want to come with?”

“Uh, sure,” I said, bobbing my head.

“Great,” she hummed. “This time, you can pick me up. Getting groceries is kind of a pain. Gotta haul a cart there and back. It’s a whole day operation.”

“I, uh, don’t drive.”

“You don’t drive?”

“Never needed to,” I said, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Everyone sorta just gives me a ride when I need it. Hey about last night.”

I didn’t really know how else to bring it up. The band-aid method would do. Sunset looked back at the row of washers inside the laundromat.

“It didn’t happen,” she said. “NDA, remember?”

“Right." It stung a little to know all that effort and planning went to nothing, but if that’s what it took. "I’ll forget it if you do.”

“Good," she pinched at her tank top again. "I'll pick you up later so we can go grocery shopping. It’ll make up for doing nothing yesterday.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“I thought you said you were just gonna get one thing for yourself.” Sunset crossed her arms as I dropped a few loaves of bread into a cart.

Something about grocery shopping turned us into an old married couple. Suddenly we bickered about which brand of dish soap was better or whether one or two carton of eggs would do. Perhaps my true calling in life was coupon clipping and grabbing the freshest jug of milk from the back.

“I was,” I said, bouncing on my heels. “Then I remembered how empty your kitchen was. When was the last time you had a chance to go grocery shopping?”

Sunset chuckled stiffly while she looked at the aisle of packaged food. “Guess I’m just too lazy.”

“Well, now you have me to help you out.” I grinned as I led the charge down the aisle, dragging the cart behind me while I scanned the rows and rows of food.

Sunset lagged behind, letting me fill up the cart on my own. While I only knew the basics of a decent nutrition, it wasn’t all that hard to find stuff to fill the cart.

The cereal aisle also came with a short debate. Sunset seemed to be a fan of the plain cereals they kept in a giant bag, while I preferred the ones with cute cartoons on the box.

“They’re the same thing,” Sunset said, dropping the sack of bland, flaky cereal creatively named 'Cereal Flakes' onto the cart. The price clearly didn’t go into the presentation. “You can just add sugar to it, and you get more cereal than the one in the box.”

“There’s a difference,” I insisted, tracing the maze printed on the back. The tiger needed my help to get out of the labyrinth and promised me a prize if I helped him.

“I thought you’d be objective about this.”

“Look, this one comes with a toy.” I shoved the box at her. “Ooh, and temporary tattoos! We can get matching ones.”

“I know a guy who can do it for real,” she said as if it wasn’t a big deal. “He owes me one if you’re down.”

I froze. The thought of getting a real tattoo sounded horrifically, excruciatingly painful. All those needles. What would my mother even say? “No. No, thanks. I’ll stick to the ones you can apply with water.”

We continued to kill time exploring the supermarket. Sunset gravitated towards the wine aisle. I humored her and rode the cart down to meet her, letting it slow down to a stop next to her. She eyed a particular bottle.

“This was the one Rarity’s mom poured us at Hearth’s Warming,” she hummed, recalling a party I didn’t attend nor approve of. She dropped it onto the cart.

“Absolutely not.” I grabbed the bottle and placed it back on the aisle.

She laughed. “Relax, it’s not like I can just walk out with it.” She glanced to the side before lifting up her jacket and tucking the bottle under her arm. “Unless.”

I shot her a glare.

“Kidding,” she said, removing the bottle and placing it back on the shelf. I took the cart and rolled it over to the front of the store.

When the time came to get in line, I noticed Sunset eying the cart packed with food.

“I can’t possibly—” Sunset hesitated. “—eat all of this. Or carry it back..”

I looked over the pile of food. It did seem like a bit much. “I guess you’re right. Help me put some stuff back.”

We spent the better part of an hour placing some of the more unnecessary items back where we found them. Sunset was more aggressive, and I had to assure her that it was okay to splurge a bit on things like ice cream. It took some convincing. Though it wasn’t too hard as I was pretty sure I could get Pinkie Pie to testify that ice cream was part of a major food group.

"One for you," I hummed, dropping a pint of her favorite ice cream into the cart. I dropped a pint of my favorite. "One for me. We can treat ourselves."

"Chocosplosion with fudge and brownie-bits?" Sunset read, she looked to me with a smirk. There’s that dimple again. "I take it you like chocolate."

"Is it obvious?” I asked. I may or may not have gotten a cocoa dependency after The Sunlight Incident. “It could use a little more chocolate, though." I swiped a bottle of chocolate sauce. “There.”

Sunset grabbed my arm and led me down to the next aisle. “Let’s move on before you see the five pound sack of chocolate chips.”

“The what?”

Sunset made sure to keep me on leash as we went through the rest of the aisles. Sure enough, she took hold of the cart and made the final decisions. I didn’t mind, since it was all going to her apartment anyway.

However, her choices of food were kind of alarming. I winced as I watched her throw two twelve-packs of instant ramen into the cart. It joined other boxed products like macaroni and cheese, and a pile of spaghetti bags. Just oodles of noodles.

“Do you know how much salt they put into that?”

Sunset replied with an unimpressed look. “Relax, It’s not like I’m gonna eat it for every meal.”

“Well, of course not." I caught my tone.

Oh, goddess. They were right. I am judgy.

“Never mind,” I said, scratching at the back of my neck. “I shouldn’t boss you around like that.”

Even then, I caught Sunset putting the packs of healthier things back out of the corner of my eye. I decided to just let it go and bite my tongue.

Once we got to the front of the supermarket, I helped Sunset set the groceries on the little conveyor belt and watched it slowly glide across the surface. Little beeps rang out as the woman at the register scanned the items. I found myself staring at the tabloids on the shelves.

According to the magazine on the top shelf, the reason Spitfire has been out of the public eye was because she’s pregnant. That probably would have hurt her chances to keep the Daring Do role had it not been a total lie.

My thoughts were cut off as I heard a much more alarming beep. I turned to see Sunset hovering over the card reader. She swiped her card, and the same noise came out from it.

“Must be something with the bank,” Sunset explained, trying the card again. Same thing. Sunset chuckled. “I probably have cash or another card,” she mumbled, looking in her bag. She seemed to search for a while for her wallet.

“I got it.” I gestured behind me as I dug into my own bag. “There’s a line.”

“Y-you don’t have to,” Sunset stammered. “It’s a lot.”

I glanced at the register. It was only about a hundred bucks worth of groceries. If anything, I don’t think it was enough. She was probably just being modest.

“It’s fine. You can pay me back later.” I reached over her and swiped my own debit card.

We helped the clerk bag up the items and I helped Sunset load her groceries into the same cart she used for groceries. However, I couldn’t help but notice how quiet Sunset was while we packed the food.

“Something up?”

Sunset shook her head. “No.”

The walk back to her apartment was pretty quiet.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I played some music on my phone as Sunset and I packed away her grocery haul. There was some dancing involved. I slipped a sack of cereal into the cupboard, my shoulders popping to the beat. Sunset squeezed past me with a little shimmy to drop a jug of milk into the fridge. She blew past me again and bounced on the tips of her feet, mumbling along with the tune. With tubs of ice cream in tow, she bumped her hip against mine to push through and laughed as she threw them into the top freezer.

"I like this," I said with a hum. "I feel like an adult."

"I am an adult." Her voice was flat. "Though, it is nice to do adult things with someone."

"Adult things," I repeated. "You mean errands?"

"Yeah that," Sunset said. "Errands."

"Errands." I scanned the floors of her living room. It could use some vacuuming. “Got any more?”

Sunset gestured towards a pile of envelopes on the counter. “Want to pay my bills?”

“Do you need money?” The room got quiet, and I felt stupid for asking.

“No.” Sunset’s curls shook with her head. “It was a joke.”

“Right.” I forced a laugh. “So how about dry cleaning?”

“Dry cleaning?” She cocked her head and pointed to her later jacket hanging on the back of a chair. “I guess my jacket.”

I snapped my fingers. “Yes! That!” I rushed over to it and lifted it high into the air.

“H-hey wait!” She ran after me.

I caught a weird smell. “Oh, jeez, when was the last time you got it cleaned?”

Sunset laughed awkwardly as she swiped the jacket back and slipped it on. “Uh…”

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t washed it since you bought it.” There I was being judgy again. Stop, Twilight.

“Of course not.” She sniffed the inside of her jacket and winced. “Though, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get it cleaned.”

“Oh!” I hopped in place. “We can make a checklist of things that need to get done around your place!” I scrambled for my bag, pulling out a little notepad just for checklists. I clicked my pen repeatedly.

Sunset plucked the pen from my grip. “I did laundry and went grocery shopping on the same day. I’m all chored out.”

“We can prep for next time,” I said.

“Alright, go for it,” she said, handing back the pen. “Who am I to get between you and your checklists?”

I let out a squee as I scanned her apartment. It was a fixer-upper of course, but now that I was here, we could make it feel more cozy. “One. Deep clean the apartment. Vacuuming, dusting, getting rid of junk.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening today.”

“Two,” I tapped the pen again my chin. I noticed a textbook propping up a chair’s uneven leg. “Throw out that chair.”

“It’s still good.” As if to prove her point, she took a seat on it and smirked. That dimple was her best argument.

I still added it to the list. “Are you going to fight me on everything?”

“I thought you liked debate.” She stuck her tongue out, and I did it back.

From then on, she didn’t really protest when I jotted down on the list. It was simple stuff really, all subsets of deep cleaning—stuff like washing windows, scrubbing down the kitchen. Even her bathroom was remarkably clean. Though, Sunset admitted to a bad habit of leaving her towels on the floor for too long. I continued my way down the cramped apartment, making my way to her bedroom.

It hadn’t changed all that much since I was last here. Sunset was still sleeping on an air mattress. I hadn’t noticed until now, but the dresser was pretty beat up, and the one bookshelf didn’t even match the only other piece of furniture.

“Bedroom makeover,” I noted. “It’s got a lot of potential. Have you ever thought about getting an actual bed and bedframe?”

“Why?”

“It’ll make your room look so much better,” I explained, gesturing towards the room in general. “Even some curtains would go a long way.”

Sunset scoffed. “I don’t need it. I only come in here to sleep.” She kicked at the air mattress. It wobbled in place. “Even then, I like sleeping on my couch better. It’s comfier, and the TVs there.”

“It is comfy once you position yourself around the lumps,” I said with a nod. My nose scrunched. “Can you open the window? Something smells.”

“The neighbors,” Sunset said, nearly cutting me off with her quick response. “They smoke like crazy. And the walls are hella thin.”

“Oh, right. Gross.” I responded, remembering that Sunset didn’t have the nicest of apartments in the nicest of areas. Still, it was very impressive that she was this independent at her age. For some reason, everyone seemed to coddle me. “Totally get it.”

“How about we go to your place?” Sunset suggested, leading me out of her room, practically dragging me out. “It’ll let the apartment air out.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Oh, hey, my parents left some money,” I jumped towards the kitchen counter, pocketing the envelope they usually filled with cash whenever they left town for work. “Dinner’s on me. Pizza?”

“Sounds great.” Sunset collapsed onto my couch. “Oh, sweet Celestia, your couch is so much comfier than mine. It’s not faaaaaair.”

“Plain cheese sound good?”

“It reclines!” Sunset kicked her feet up. “Oh, and cupholders! This couch is mine now. Expect it to go missing.”

Spike jumped up onto her lap. “Yeah, pizza’s good for me, too.”

“Spike.” I took a seat next to them, tapping away at the order on my phone. “I said no more human food for you. My parents spoiled you enough already. We need to slim you down.”

He whimpered and pawed at the air. “I promise I’ll start tomorrow. I can’t have eaten my last slice of pizza without knowing it was my last.”

“You and me both, buddy.” Sunset rubbed at his fat belly. “You’re outnumbered, Twi.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s done this before.”

Sunset held Spike up by the forelegs. “Look this little cutie in the eyes and tell him he’s not allowed to eat.”

Spike put on his best set of puppy-dog eyes, and Sunset mimicked his expression.

“Fine. One slice.” I sent in the order. “Savor it, Spike. We’re restarting the vet’s workout plan, tomorrow.”

“You’re so mean.” Sunset laughed, setting him back down. “If I had a puppy, I’d spoil it so much until it’s a big fat blob that I’d have to carry from room to room.”

“You know what?” Spike jumped off her lap and onto mine. “That workout plan’s starting to sound real good right now.”

I scratched at his ear. “Have you thought about getting a pet?”

“For sure.” She nodded. “But getting a pet’s a pretty big commitment.”

“Am I a commitment, Twilight?” Spike asked.

“You’re more than a commitment, Spike.”

“Uh, thanks?” He scrunched his nose. I didn’t blame him. Even I wasn’t too sure what that was supposed to mean.

I put on a movie to pass the time until the pizza arrived. Just as it was getting good, there was a knock at the door. I groaned but forced myself off the couch. I paid, tipped well, and now had dinner for the three of us.

“Hey, Sunset, can you grab some sparkling water from the fridge?”

She slid off the couch. “Sparkling water for Ms. Sparkle coming up.”

She disappeared into the kitchen while I set the pizza on the coffee table. It was a lovely margherita pizza from my favorite place downtown. A little pricey—actually, very pricey—but today seemed like a splurging kind of night. Plus, I had to make yesterday up to Sunset somehow. The best pizza in Canterlot was a good start.

“Dude, you could’ve told me you already had a bunch of food at home,” Sunset said as she made her way back to the living room. “I could have made us some—The heck is that?”

“Pizza!” I backed away from the pie, its heat steaming my glasses. Thankfully the subject changed before I had to admit that I couldn’t cook to save my life.

“That’s not pizza.” She took a sip of sparkling water before waving her bottle around. “Where’s all the cheese, the grease, the excessive portions?! It’s not pizza unless you’re eating it for leftovers for the next few days.”

She had a point.

“Don’t write it off just yet.” I grabbed a slice and held it to her mouth. “Eat before you judge. It's the perfect pizza. ”

Sunset took a bite, and I watched her eyes light up to the taste. “Okay you win,” she said, mouth still full. A bit of sauce dribbled from her lip.

I grinned. “See?”

“Now I’m a bit jealous that one of those beautiful, beautiful slices is going to a dog.”

“I’ll have you know I’m more than a dog.” Spike gnawed at his own slice, stretching out a long string of cheese. “I’m a commitment.”

We spent the rest of the night watching musicals, the highest form of art.

And once again, we pushed our bodies in how long we could stay awake. I hadn’t bothered to check the time. I didn’t have anything going on tomorrow—or was it today?—Sunday. I had nothing going on Sunday except maybe spending the entire day with her.

“My daydream,” Sunset hummed, sounding as if she was fighting sleep herself.

“Hmm?”

She nestled into my shoulder, still sounding sleepy. “You called me that in your project. ‘My angel. My daydream.’”

“Oh! Um…” I felt my cheeks heat up. “I meant it. After the Games, you gave me something to look forward to, someone to look up to.”

“Can you… Can you say it out loud?”

“You’re my angel, Sunset Shimmer,” I said as I felt her breath shorten. “My daydream.”

“I spent all last night reading that part.” She sighed and melted into my side. “I think I just needed to hear it in your voice.”

Even if it was the drowsiness getting to her, it felt nice for her to hold onto me for once. I hoped she felt as safe as I did when I held onto her.

She took in a quick breath and shut her eyes. “I want to take you to the Spring Fling. Will you go with me?”

“Of course.” I held her tighter. "I'd love to."

“And I want you to be wearing the crown.”

“You deserve it,” I said back.

I could feel her hesitation. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Just know I’m trying to be better. I just don’t know if it will be on time to earn it for the Fling.”

“You’re already perfect.”

Sunset didn’t respond, and I figured she had fallen asleep.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I woke up the next morning to my phone’s latest alarm. It was 11:11 on a lazy Sunday morning, and it certainly felt that way. There was a gross feeling in my mouth that was unique to going to sleep without brushing. I tried to wash it away with a quick sip of whatever was left of my water, but most of it seemed to fall on my shirt.

I reached around for my glasses and felt myself ease as I slowly slipped them on.

Everything was perfectly still. Spike lay on the floor, nestled into the rug like it was a blanket. I found Sunset curled up into the couch, and I was content to just watch her sleep for a little bit. Spike eventually woke up and jumped up next to me.

“Don’t you feel a little creepy just watching her sleep?” he asked, yawning as he stretched out his legs.

“We’re dating. That makes it cute now.”

“Ah, I think I get it now. It’s like when I’d watch over you when you slept. Protecting you and stuff.”

“Yes, it’s just like that.” I giggled and rubbed at his head. “Except that she doesn’t need protecting. She just floats above it all.”

Spike hummed sleepily. “Like an angel.”

“Like an angel,” I repeated. “I’m glad you’re finally seeing what I am.”

Sunset took in a sharp breath, but she seemed to still be asleep. A bit of drool hung from her lip, and she crinkled her nose before burying it deeper into the pillow.

“What time is it?” Her face was scrunched into a cute squint.

“Eleven.”

That shocked her awake. She dragged her palms down her face. “Oh, damn it, I’m gonna be late for work.” She forced herself up and rushed to slip on her boots that she left by the door. She checked her phone and combed through her hair with her free hand. “Should have just enough time to run home and change.”

“Work?”

She cocked her head. “Yeah, how do you think I pay for rent?”

I hummed. “I guess I never really thought about it.”

“Lucky you.”

I couldn’t quite read her tone. I decided to move past it. “So, where do you work?”

“NDA.” She had the most smug grin.

“That doesn’t even apply here!” I tossed a throw pillow at her. “Seriously, I’d love to drop by one day.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t tell you. Because whatever you think it is, it’s much lamer,” Sunset answered. She came back to the couch to claim her jacket (but not before planting a quick kiss on my forehead).“I’d rather keep the mystery alive.”

“Please let me have this one?” I put my hands together in a mock prayer and spilled over the arm of the couch.

“Fine.” Sunset had her hands in her pockets. “I’m a waitress.”

“Uniform?”

Sunset was already halfway out the door. “Yes. It’s adorable, and no you can’t see me in it.”

She winked as she left the house, and I spent the rest of the day doodling Sunset in waitress uniforms.

Author's Note

“Relative deprivation (RD) occurs when individuals compare themselves with better-off others and conclude that they do not deserve their disadvantage. These upward comparisons, whether imposed or chosen, can damage people’s emotions, behavior, and even mental and physical health.” [x]

The Looking Glass Self
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The Sunlight Theory

The Looking Glass Self

“Good morning, Wondercolts! It’s time for today’s morning announcements.”

There was a collective groan across the cafeteria. It wasn’t often that Vice Principal Luna did the morning updates, but when she did, it came with the same booming radio voice everyone hated and was always followed by some terrible news. We probably hated the voice more.

Now that I thought about it, that wasn’t all that bad of a strategy to deliver bad news.

“Effective today, snacks and sugary drinks are temporarily banned in the classrooms. As such, we will be conducting locker room searches throughout the day for any more contraband.”

“What!?” Pinkie Pie jumped from her seat, her daily breakfast lollipop hanging out of her mouth. That didn’t stop her from speaking her piece. “The school handbook clearly states that students are to be given a minimum twenty-four hours of notice before any changes to snacking privileges!”

“She can’t hear you,” Rainbow heckled from across the table.

“This change to snacking privileges came after an emergency call from weekend custodial staff regarding an ant infestation in certain student’s lockers filled with Valentine’s Candy. Your notice was posted on the Wondercolts MyStable page Saturday morning in accordance to the school handbook.”

“Who the heckie reads the school MyStable?” Pinkie Pie stuck her tongue out at the speaker. I fought the urge to let her know that I did, which was why I had switched to water this morning instead of my usual orange juice.

Vice Principal Luna clicked her tongue.

“On an unrelated note, Pinkamena Diane Pie please report to the principal’s office.”

Pinkie bit down on her lollipop and chewed. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Oooh, you’re in trouble,” Rainbow hummed through a snide grin. Pinkie shot back with finger guns as she flicked the lollipop stick into the trash and moonwalked away from our table.

Rarity stepped up to the table and took a sip of a plastic cup of coffee that was almost certainly the reason why she was nearly late. “Shouldn’t you be emptying your locker, Rainbow?” The whipped cream threatened to spill out her cup’s domed lid.

Rainbow Dash scooped the excess cream with her finger then licked it. She scrunched her nose. “Your fancy coffee probably has more sugar than my locker.”

“I wasn’t talking about sugar.”

“Oof, you’re right.” Rainbow stood up, spilling her carton of chocolate milk over. “Uh, bathroom,” she announced to the rest of us before grabbing her backpack and rushing out the cafeteria.

“Degenerates, the lot of them,” said my bi, biker girlfriend as she wiped up the spill with a napkin.

Rarity turned her attention back to the table, specifically staring down both me and Sunset. She slid onto the bench and leaned in, holding her head up with both her hands. “So! How did it go?”

“Ask Twilight, she had an itinerary planned down to the minute.”

Rarity’s head whipped towards me, and I felt like I had been thrown under a spotlight. Luckily, I had come to school prepared for the inevitable interrogation. I reached into my bag and pulled out a little printed schedule. (A copy of course. The real one was taped inside my diary.)

She snatched the sheet from my fingertips, ripping the paper slightly with her awe-inspiring speed and force. Fluttershy and Applejack leaned over her shoulders.

Rarity slapped her palms against the table. “Wait, why does this whole section say ‘redacted’!?”

Sunset only laughed, and Rarity looked through me like she was trying to decipher the secrets of the universe in my eyes. “Girls, you can’t just not tell me these things!”

“Sorry.” Sunset said with a shrug, her tone betraying her entirely. “I wish I could, but Twilight made me sign a contract.”

“A contract?” Rarity’s face finally had a color to it. “T-Twilight, I would have never guessed you were the type of woman to—on the second date?”

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Sunset put her arm around my shoulder, “it was that and more.”

“Ahah-haaah.”

If I had just met Rarity now, I would have assumed her natural skin tone was red.

Applejack hooked her arm around Rarity’s. “I’m gonna take her to the nurse’s office. Think she might’ve popped a vein or something.”

“Here, let me help,” Fluttershy said, taking Rarity’s other shoulder. “I know which smelling salt she likes.”

That left me and Sunset alone. If the cafeteria bench had a back to it, she’d be leaning on it. “She took it a lot better than I thought she would.”

“What exactly was she imagining?” I asked.

Before I got an answer, Principal Luna continued. “For the final announcement, I’d like to remind everyone that the Spring Fling Pageant sign-ups begin this week. Any students interested have until five PM on Friday to register in the Principal’s office.”

I looked over to Sunset and vaguely gestured towards the speaker. I didn’t even need to say anything as she simply said, “I’m still thinking on it.”

I nodded, even if it was a little frustrating, but I reminded myself that she was genuine. “Which way are you leaning?”

“A hard maybe.”

“I’ll sign up if you do.” I flashed her a smile that I hoped was reassuring. “If it’s bad as you make it out to be, we’ll suffer through it together.”

She chuckled and looked away, but she seemed to really consider it that time. “Strong perhaps.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Oh, you exist!”

My brother laughed. “As if I don’t hear it enough from Cady.”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” I said as I nearly leapt into my BBBFF’s arms. If it wasn’t for the giant box of food, I would have let him fireman’s carry me back into the living room. “What’s all this for? Mom and Dad are only out for a few days.”

“You know her. Any excuse to feed people. Better you get some before it all goes to me,” Shining said as he breezed past me and set my next month’s worth of meals on the kitchen counter. He turned to me and put his hands on his hips. “So, my fiancée’s a narc and asked me to put the fear of Celestine in you.”

I nodded, quickly piecing together where this conversation was heading. I patted the couch cushion next to me, and he took the offer. “It was just one night.”

From the smile on his face, I could tell he was proud. “One night, sure. Unless you put it in context.”

“Which was?”

He started counting on his fingers, which I figured was the only way he could count (judgy!). “Transfers out of prep school, suddenly likes chicks on motorbikes, breaks her leg in a motorcycle accident, joins a rock band, starts sneaking out at night.”

“Okay, I get it.” I pushed his shoulder. “When you put it that way…”

“It sounds like I have a cool little sister.”

“You think I’m cool?”

“Nah, I know better.”

This time I punched him, and he laughed it off. Although to be fair, he was a firefighter, and I still didn’t think he was cool.

“Okay, serious big brother here.” He swiped his palm down over his face, brushing off his smile. “Cadance is concerned that you might be hanging around some bad influences.”

“She said that?”

“You know how she worries.” He gestured back to my rations for the year. “She thought you’d starve if I didn’t bring you food.”

At least I had meals I could use to impress Sunset for the week. “Well, thank you for looking out for me, I guess.”

“Just promise me you won’t get into too much trouble.” He sunk deeper into the couch and chuckled. “This is probably my first parenting test.”

“A for effort,” I answered, reclining against the arm of the couch and intentionally hogging up as much space as I could. “Wait, does that mean?”

He nodded. “After the wedding, me and Cadance will be trying. Gates’ll be open.”

I cringed and kicked at his shoulder. “The point of a euphemism is to make it less gross. Could you have phrased it any worse?”

“Yeah, actually.”

I continued to kick at him and pointed towards the door. “Out. Out of my house!”

“Fine.” Shining was slow as he rose to his feet, seemingly satisfied with his attempt to rein me in and annoyingly unbothered by my attacks. “I’ll go to my own house, where the gates are open.”

“Out!” I tossed a throw pillow at him. “And don’t forget to call Mom.You’ll probably be back at work by the time they get back.”

Shining gave me a quick thumbs up as he swiped one of my tupperware meals to go. My phone buzzed in my pockets, and I jumped to reach for it.

“Your girlfriend?” he teased, mouthful of chicken carbonara.

“It’s probably one of my bad influences,” I countered, only realizing just then that it might have been a little too mean. He was only looking out for what he thought was best for me. That’s all I could ever ask from my BBBFF.

I gave him a quick salute, which he took as his signal to leave. I focused back on my phone and felt all my defenses melt as I saw that it was Sunset.

Then I quickly realized it was a mistake as I read the message.

A campfire, shielding me from midnight. My daydream. I’ll always be dreaming.

Oh, dear goddess she found the poetry.

On instinct, I screamed and threw my phone across the room. A few seconds after, I buried my head in my hands once I processed what I had just done.

I crawled over to my phone and scanned the damage. Sure enough, the corner was chipped, and a long crack trailed down the side of the screen. I took a deep breath. I could get it repaired with the money my parents left me. If I dipped into the money I saved from my allowance, I could even buy a new one, and no one would have to know.

Another message came in, and I strained to read it.

First thing tmrw I’ll sign up

I held my phone to my chest. She was doing it for me. When I pulled it away to look at the message again, the broken glass stabbed into my finger. Yeah, I needed to at least get it fixed.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Dean Cadenza thinks Sunset might be a bad influence.”

I took a sip from my smoothie, giving Lemon Zest and Sunny Flare a chance to respond. They had been kind enough to come with me to the mall and keep me company while I got my phone repaired.

“Dude,” Lemon Zest leaned in, “your girlfriend’s an awesome influence. Just follow her lead, and you’ll be so much cooler.”

“What do you mean by that?” I already knew the answer. I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed that this was the second time today someone called me uncool.

“Your girl rides a motorcycle, plays in a rock band…” Lemon glanced over to Sunny Flare, “…gay.”

“She’s bi, actually,” I corrected.

Lemon grinned. “Even better. That, like, checks all of Sunny’s boxes.”

Sunny rolled her eyes. “My standards are not that low.”

“How come I fit the first two then?” Lemon flashed a grin. “Working on the third. The other day, Sugarcoat’s hand accidentally brushed against my knee in chem, and I didn’t hate it.”

“First of all: no.” Sunny huffed. “Second, mopeds don’t count. And third, your emo band has to at least release one song before they break up.”

“We’re not emo,” Lemon protested, pointing her finger in the air. “Self Titled Band is a punk band that talks about their feelings sometimes.”

“Big difference,” I said, nodding.

Sunny groaned. “No difference. And your band’s name is stupid.”

Lemon clutched her chest and gasped. “I’ll have you know ‘Self Titled Band’s Self Titled Single from Self Titled Band’s Self Titled Album: Self Titled Band’s Self Titled Album’ is a chart topper waiting to happen.”

Sunny pinched her nose. “Twilight, why don’t you go check to see if your phone’s ready? I don’t want you to be a witness for when I kill Lemon Zest.”

“Avenge me, Twilight.” Lemon Zest gave me one last smile to remember her by.

I made sure to take my smoothie with me as I left the crime scene. No need to leave DNA evidence. By the time I got to the little electronics shop in the corner of the mall, my phone was ready and looked like I hadn’t smashed it into pieces. Had to keep up appearances as breaking my first smartphone while I only had it for a few months was not a good look.

The first thing I did when I got my phone back was text Sunset.

Hey, do you think you can teach me to ride your bike?

I didn’t get her response until I joined back up with Lemon and Sunny.

Yea no. I’d rather u live, was her answer

But it’d make me look so cool.

Get a car license first then we’ll see

I smiled down at my phone. It wasn’t a no.

Can’t talk anymore, at work rn.

See you tomorrow, I sent back. Bright and early.

Brite n early, she responded.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset made sure to pick me up bright and early alright. The revving of her bike's engine was my alarm clock, beating mine by a good half hour. I slipped out of bed and ambled to the window, groaning as I stared down at my girlfriend, who was happily waiting in my driveway.

"You're going to wake the neighborhood."

“Bright and early!” Sunset yelled back. Even under her helmet, I could tell she was grinning. "First thing in the morning. CHS opens its doors in thirty."

I slammed the window shut. Two could play at that game. I slipped back under the covers and retreated under its warmth. She could wait out in the cold for all I cared. I had a sleep schedule to keep consistent.

Of course, that plan backfired rather quickly. My power nap ended prematurely as I was forced awake by someone shaking my shoulder.

It was Sunset.

Oh, dear goddess. It was Sunset.

I sat up, meeting face to face with her. She was wearing my glasses. She was cute. Cute, but blurry.

She laughed. "Yeah, there's no way I'm trusting you with my bike. You're practically blind."

I swiped my glasses off her face. "Contacts are a thing.”

“Honestly, I don't see why you're so eager to break that other leg."

I shoved her off the bed with my good leg as she cackled all the way to the ground. Then I noticed that she was spending a suspicious amount of time on the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slipping on my glasses.

"Where's the hard copy?" she asked from under my bed.

"Of?" I groaned once I realized what she was getting at. "Shredded, and recycled in the proper receptacle."

"Boo." Sunset popped up at the edge of the bed and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Hurry up and get ready before I change my mind. I’ll be waiting downstairs on my couch.”

After I took care of the abridged version of my morning routine, I met Sunset downstairs. She was toying with her phone and making herself at home on the couch.

“What made you want to sign up?” I paused for a moment as I jumped the last step. “And do not say the poetry.”

“It was the poetry,” she answered, and I unfortunately had to take that as the truth, as embarrassing as it was. “And a bunch of other things.”

“Like?”

From the way she bit down on her lip, I knew she was debating on answering. “I wanted to do something for you. Y’know, after you put so much effort into our Valentine’s date, I felt so guilty storming out like that. And I know it doesn’t seem like much, but trust me, if you knew.”

I held her hands and braced myself for when the walls came up. “You can tell me.”

“Someday.” The answer came out like a sigh, as if it took every bit of willpower to say it. “Someday,” she said again, this time with a little more firmness in her voice.

She was trying, and she was doing it for me. That was all I needed to know at the moment.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset stopped in front of Principal’s Celestia’s office. She looked to me like she was expecting me to give her permission or an excuse to back out. We stood there for about a minute. I watched her roll her shoulders as she took in air through her nose. Was she… nervous?

No. Never.

She opened the door and waited for me to enter first. Inside, Principal Celestia hovered over a fresh cup of coffee. From the her slouched position, it seemed like she needed the morning pick me up.

“Oh, Twilight, Sunset.” Principal Celestia put on a smile, powering through her morning grogginess. “May I help you with anything?”

Sunset matched her with her own polite smile. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Yeah, actually… Twilight and I were thinking about signing up for the Spring Fling pageant.”

Principal Celestia seemed to brighten up at her answer. “Oh, wonderful.” She clapped her hands together before shuffling the messy assortment of papers on her desk as she dug around for signup sheet. You’d think the principal would have everything in order. But for a woman named after the sun herself, she seemed to not be a morning person. (Stop. Being. Judgy!) “I was worried that neither of you would sign up. Having former princesses makes the competition all the more interesting.”

She gestured to the wall of photos, and I quickly realized they were pictures of the previous winners. One of them was me (well, the princess version of me), and there was a story there, one that I only knew part of. Even then, I wasn’t sure if anyone would ever tell me the full story. Someday, I had to remind myself.

Then I realized that there were a lot of pictures of Sunset, and I couldn’t not investigate.

“Oh my gosh.” I stepped up to a particular picture. “Is that you as a freshman?”

Sunset dropped onto the seat across from the principal’s desk. “Yeah, pretty cute, huh?”

“Those cheeks! That dress!” I traced the golden sash with my finger. The sophomore and junior photos were fine—but baby Sunset! I couldn’t help but take a picture on my phone. I needed it, and it would make us even. Pageant pic for pageant pic.

Sunset only sank deeper into the chair, likely from embarrassment.

“It was the first time in school history a freshman was crowned Fall Formal Princess,” Principal Celestia noted. “It was a unanimous vote, too. Also unprecedented.”

With those eyes how could it not? It looked like she was genuinely touched to be named princess by her peers. With the absolute surprise in her eyes, there was no way she could have expected winning.

“Found it!” Sunset announced, dragging out the sign up sheet from under a stack of papers.

“Thank you, Sunset,” the principal said. “As I was saying, today’s the last day for signups, and I’m glad you two are here. I’d like to have as many quality candidates I can get to bolster the current line up.”

“Lyra Heartstrings and Trixie Lulamoon,” Sunset read. She looked to me. “Can we not sign up? Honestly, seeing those two face off would be a riot.”

I sent her a look. “Sunset.”

“Fine.” She scribbled her name down and pushed it over to me. Even her handwriting was perfect. I signed my name just under hers and set it back on the desk. “I’m not going easy on you, just so you know, Miss Summer Sun.”

I laughed. “Bring it on.”

“I’m expecting good things from the both of you,” Principal Celestia said.“Especially you, Sunset Shimmer.”

Sunset Stood up, and I could tell she wanted to leave. “Yeah, of course.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been making an honest effort since last semester,” the principal said. This time her smile was genuine. “I’m sure the rest of the student body would agree.”

Sunset nodded. We met eyes for a moment before she addressed Celestia. “You can thank Twilight and the girls. They see the best in me.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“So a little birdie told me you’ve signed up for the Spring Fling Pageant.” Rarity slid in next to me on the lunch table.

Fluttershy sat to my right. “Well, the birdie told me. Then I told Rarity.”

“Word travels fast.” I looked down at my lunch. There was a corner of food that I left for Sunset to sample, but she seemed to be running late. Rainbow was usually last to show up, and even she beat Sunset here. “What else did you hear?”

“Sunset’s also running,” Rarity said. “Which, after the Fall Formal, I’m surprised she has any desire to… Is there something you wanted, Trixie dear?”

There was a presence hanging behind me, and I would have jumped if it didn’t mean accidentally uppercutting Trixie with my shoulder. Instead, I recoiled to the side, brushing into Fluttershy.

“Trixie is simply scouting the new competition.” She analyzed every inch of me, and I felt the need to put on a sweater. Her brows contorted, and I wasn’t sure if I needed to say anything to get her to stop.

“Afraid Twilight’s gonna give you some stiff competition?” Applejack asked.

Trixie shook her head. “No, she poses no threat. Trixie is more concerned with Twilight Sparkle’s…” She paused, and her brow bent again like she was searching for the right word. “Lover.”

That was probably the worst word.

“Dude, you’re making it weird.” Rainbow’s face scrunched up.

“It is only prudent to be concerned with any…” Trixie paused again, and I feared the next word. “…collusion affecting Trixie’s chances of earning her rightful title as Miss Wondercolt.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Take it up with the Spring Fling planning committee.”

“Whomst is?”

Pinkie Pie’s hand shot up. “Oh, oh, she’s me! And I see no problem with it. Sunset Shimmer is, like, suuuuper-duuuuuuper competitive, so there’s no way she’s just gonna let Twilight win.

“And Twilight once tried to return a juice box when Lunch Lady Smith accidentally gave her two, which is, like, the most self-control I’ve ever seen—because: Two. Juice. Boxes! Who could ever turn that down? So there’s no way she’d try to cheat. She just doesn’t have it in her.

“Oh, and just the idea of two girlfriends competing, womano-a-womano, for Ms. Wondercolt is just so-so-soooo cute. They could make cute little bets like ‘loser pays for lunch’ or ‘loser kisses the winner.’ How could I not allow it?”

“This whole thing is rigged,” Trixie concluded with a huff. She balled her hands into fists. “No matter. It’ll just make my victory all the sweeter, and The Great and Powerful Trixie will be the greatest and most powerful-est Spring Fling Princess the school’s ever had.” She stuck her nose up and stomped away.

“For just one day, I’d love to feel the confidence she has in herself,” Rarity commented. “Where were we?”

“Sunset versus Twilight, round two” Applejack answered.

“The Dusk Bowl!” Rainbow Dash punched at the air.

“The Sunlight Series!” Pinkie cheered. She swung an imaginary bat and grinned.

“Right. That.” Rarity laid her palms on the table. “Considering the pageant is a competition, based on popularity…” She held her arm out and rolled her wrist, expecting me to extrapolate for her.

“Oh. Makes sense.” I nodded. “I guess I’m on my own.”

Rarity put her hands on mine. “Goodness, no. Of course you’ll have our support, darling. It’s just that Sunset will, too. Though I suppose the only appropriate action would be to abstain entirely.”

Rainbow Dash snickered. “Prude.”

Rarity glanced down at the plastic knife on her tray. “Besides, I’ve already started sketching up what you’ll be wearing for the formal wear category. It’ll be equally as fabulous as the one I’m drawing up for Sunset. You get what I’m saying, dear?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” I slouched a bit. “But Sunset’s Sunset. She doesn’t need the help.”

“It still ain’t right picking favorites anyways,” Applejack added.“We’ll support ya, but it’s not like we’ll pull out all the stops and do a whole musical number.”

“Yep. Totally.” Pinkie bounced in her seat. “Also, we kinda already blew our best material on the other you at the Fall Formal.”

“It was a wicked-sweet flashmob, though.” Rainbow pounded a beat on the tabletop with her fists.

I nearly choked. “The other me got a musical number!?”

Life wasn’t fair.

Fluttershy smiled. “Oh, yes. It was lovely seeing the whole school come together and join in.”

“The whole school did it?”

“I think I might still have the video,” Fluttershy said, digging into her bag for her phone.

“No thanks.” I shook my head. “I don’t think I can handle the jealousy right now. Did Sunset get one, too?”

Rarity smiled awkwardly. “Uh, it’s a complicated story.”

“Sorry I’m late, girls.” Sunset Shimmer stopped at the edge of the table, and everyone turned to greet her. She smiled at us as she chewed through a mouthful of gum. “Had to move my bike. Did I miss anything?”

Rarity lifted herself up from the table with her hands, grabbing control of the conversation. “Oh, you came right at the perfect time. I was just telling Twilight how I was already planning your formal wear for the Spring Fling Pageant.”

Sunset stepped back. “Oh, seriously? Rare, you don’t have to.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Rarity waved her wrist. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a few designs burning in my sketchpads since freshman year’s Spring Fling.”

Sunset stared at her shoes. “Of course.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Since I couldn’t rely on the girls to advise me through the pageant process, I decided to consult the one person who I could always trust:

Myself.

Summoning Princess Twilight was a surprisingly, almost insultingly simple process. I waited till most of the other students had gone home for the day. Then I grabbed a rock from the school’s lawn and threw it into the base of the still broken Wondercolt statue. It was my little method of letting the other me know that I wished for an audience with the princess.

Most of the time, the rock just bounced off the marble, but it didn’t take long before I figured out the exact hours the portal was open by tracking the lunar phases from my telescope at home. It was simple pattern recognition, really, but it seemed to impress the other me for a moment before she told me that she could open it literally any time she wanted via magic.

I took a seat and passed the time watching puppies fail at running obstacle courses on my phone. Usually, I attached a note to the rock for a later meeting time and place, but I only wanted a quick chat. Sunset was also at work, and I didn’t have anything going on after school, so I didn’t mind waiting for our much needed Twilight Time.

The other me eventually emerged from the portal, and I jumped up to meet her. I swiped the dirt off the back of my skirts just glad that she didn’t toss the rock back, which was her way of letting me know she was too busy to talk. Of course, I could never blame her, she was a busy princess after all.

“Spike says to start under-handing the rocks when you throw them into the portal.”

“He said hands?”

“Claws, actually, and I had to practice not saying hoof a couple times.”

She cracked a smile, and I mirrored her. Then we hugged it out for a moment to catch up for the lost time. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but it felt more like getting hugged by an older sister than myself, which I figured made it feel less weird.

“So, how did your date with Sunset go?” She asked, eyes lit.

“It went great. Actually, we’re—“

“Girlfriends now, I know,” she interrupted, seemingly just as excited as I was. “Sorry, it’s just that Sunset already told me everything.”

Right. The magic journal. Sunset Shimmer could write to the other me any time she wanted. She had access to the literal perfect pony princess version of myself—the one she knew for longer and was from her home dimension—yet she still said yes to the “me” me.

Why?

Even more baffling was that Sunset would talk about me to the other me.

“Everything? Oh jeez, I hope not.”

She shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Sunset just comes to me for advice sometimes. Like any of my other students. And I’d be lying if I wasn’t curious about you two.”

“Don’t you find it kind of… weird she’s telling you about yourself.”

She waved it off. “Well, it was odd at first. But I got over it once I figured out that we’re basically different people.”

That was possibly the worst thing I could have heard from her. My shoulders sunk. “Actually, that’s part of the reason why I called you over.”

“Oh, okay,” Twilight led me over to the stairs leading up to the school and sat down. “What’s up?”

“Sunset and I signed up for the Spring Fling Pageant.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said. “I know it’ll be good for Sunset—oh, and you too, of course. It’s just that she’s come so far since the Fall Formal.”

“Principal Celestia said the same thing.” I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask, but I did it anyway. “Did something happen last semester?”

Princess Twilight’s face scrunched, and I closely watched the mind of a friendship master at work. Though I did wonder if I made the same face when I was thinking. “Did she not tell you?”

“No one wants to talk about it. Even the girls. They just say it’s for the better. All I know was that there was magic involved, and that it was kind of like when I…”

I still didn’t want to say it out loud. Princess Twilight rubbed my shoulder and squeezed at the same place where my mom would when she’d comfort me. I appreciated the fact that she knew exactly what to do.

“As hard as it is for you to talk about it, I’m sure it’s just as hard for her,” she said, absolute wisdom in her voice. “Part of being a good friend—girlfriend included—is just being there for when they’re ready. Until then, just try to understand her.”

Someday, I reminded myself. Even then, her answer told me all I needed to know. I had so much to learn.

“Teach me how to be you!” I grabbed her hands and looked her straight in the eyes. Hers were wide, taken aback by my sudden aggression.

“You are me.” She set my hands back down at my lap.

“But earlier you said I wasn’t!”

She laughed. “Okay, let me amend what I just said.” She paused for a moment, most likely to phrase it a bit more carefully. ”We might as well be different because we’re in different stages of our lives. I’m still adjusting to what it means to be a princess, and you’re currently me when I was a teenager—which by the way, sweet Celestia, I’m so sorry, you poor, innocent baby.”

She gave me another hug, this time holding it for much longer.

“What was that for?”

“I just thought you needed it,” she said, still smiling. I hated the fact that she was right. “I know your mind must be racing with overthinking and hormones.”

I cringed and clawed at my face. “Oh, gods, please don’t. You should know how much I hate that word.”

“Oh, I do, but I grew out of it.” She grinned, and I shoved her shoulder. “And you will, too. If you’re anything like me, you’re gonna grow up to do great things.”

I giggled. “I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”

I couldn’t resist. Even then, I meant it. She was like me, but if I had everything figured out. She was a princess, and whatever that meant in this world was kind of exciting to think about. I just wished that I had a small chance to even live up to her example.

She smiled again and pulled at my scrunchie, letting my hair fall down my back. “You’re already on your way.”

Author's Note

“People tend to internalize what they imagine or think other people think of them. If they think others think they are ugly, they then tend to think of themselves as ugly. If they think others think they are kind, they then tend to think of themselves as kind. Sometimes, one person, one opinion, is enough to imprint or activate the looking glass self. This process works most strongly if one is emotionally close to another.” [X]

Game Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

Game Theory

"A beauty pageant, huh?" Sugarcoat asked. The judgement was clear in her tone as she typed on her phone, not even bothering to look up. Even then, that didn’t stop her from drinking her lemonade as she leaned over the plastic table to drink. “Doesn’t sound like you. Is it for a scholarship or something?"

"For fun," I said, picking at at the ice cream I ordered. I didn’t want to be the only one at the table that didn’t grab anything from the food court. “I’m doing it alongside my girlfriend.”

"Cute!" Lemon chirped, putting her hands to her cheeks.

Sugarcoat leaned in. "How serious is it?"

I turned my head. "The competition or my relationship?"

"The pageant, dummy."

"Oh," I said. "I'd like to win, just so I can lord it over Sunset. She'd probably do the same if she won."

Sugarcoat nodded, still staring down at her screen and seemingly dictating the words of the goddess on her phone. "So you want dirt?"

"Dirt?"

"I was the head of opposition research for Fleur de Lis' class president campaign, remember?” Sugarcoat finally looked up from her phone. "You brought this up to me for a reason, didn't you?"

"What? N-no!" I stammered. "I won't do that to her."

Sugarcoat shrugged. "So? Fleur ran against her beau. We found he was cheating on her with a girl from CHS. That was..." She smiled wistfully, intertwining her fingers together. "The best."

I wiped my hands off in the lap. "No thanks, none of that, please."

Sugarcoat pouted. "Boo, your girl would have been such a fun mark. She has to have some skeletons in her closet.” She snapped and pointed at the air. “I bet she smokes."

I sneered. "No she doesn't."

“A bisexual, leather jacket wearing biker chick who’s in a rock band and has a preppy girlfriend,” Sugarcoat listed off the cuff. “If she’s not smoking something, she’s not reaching her full potential.”

“Thank. You.” Lemon Zest clapped out both words. “Just last week, I was telling Twilight how cool her girlfriend is. She probably even has a tattoo on her ass.”

“That’s a given,” Sugarcoat said. “The only question is what?”

“Something trashy, I bet,” Indigo Zap piled on. “A butterfly. Maybe an ex’s name.”

“My stepmom has her ex-boyfriend’s name tattooed on her back,” Sour Sweet added. “It’s hilarious.”

“Dude, if I had a tattoo for every ex-boyfriend I had, I’d have a whole freakin’ sleeve.” Lemon Zest stretched her arm out and cocked her head. “Actually, that sounds pretty dope. Sunny, let me borrow your pen.”

Sunny Flare rolled her eyes but humored her anyway. The rest of us just watched as Lemon started writing on her wrist.

“Jet Set, Fancy Pants, Neon Lights…”

Sugarcoat turned to me. “If you decide you want to take winning seriously. The offer still stands.”

“...Rising Star, Royal Pin, Zephyr Breeze…” Lemon Zest scrunched her nose and scribbled over the last name. “Trenderhoof…”

“I don’t know…” I bit my tongue then used some ice cream to soothe the pain. I wanted to know, but I’d rather Sunset tell me herself. Going behind her back wasn’t right.

“Mr. Bathos…” Everyone turned to Lemon, who only looked back at us as if we were the ones who’d admitted to dating a teacher. “What?”

“The literature teacher?” Sunny Flare asked, jaw hanging.

Lemon shrugged. “Used to have the biggest crush on him freshman year. I had detention with him once during lunch, so I’m counting that as a date.” She snapped her fingers as if trying to recall more names. “Sunny Flare—just future proofing here.”

“You’re not even into girls.” Sunny crossed her arms.

“I’m into you, baby.” Lemon flashed her the cheesiest grin, coupled with finger guns. “And done!” Lemon announced. Sure enough, her arm was covered in inky names written in cursive.

“That’s a lot of exes,” I noted, covering the obvious. Even then, I was just being judgy again. I shouldn’t have even said anything.

“Don’t slut shame me, dude.” She showed off her arm to the others. “I think it’s pretty empowering. All the boys I’ve told to get bent.” She rubbed at a specific spot on her arm. “Except for you, Ragamuffin, you tragically fleeting, foreign exchange hottie, you.”

All the other girls giggled. We spent the rest of our little hangout letting Lemon explain her dating life and how she fell in and out of love so easily. Everything from awkward matches online to perfect nights at summer camp.

Eventually, my phone went off. It was Sunset, and I suddenly remembered that I had other plans today than to experience Lemon Zest’s love life.

I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Have to go, girls. I promised Sunset that we’d go together to get fitted for our pageant dresses.”

“You are living your best gay life, and I’m so jealous,” Sunny Flare said. She grabbed my wrist and stared me straight in the eyes. “How?”

“I asked.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

"Who would have thought I'd be making you a dress for the Spring Fling again?" Rarity mused, her voice muffled slightly as she bit down on a piece of measuring tape.

Sunset winced. "Please don't remind me."

I looked up from my phone and caught a pair of unsure glances between the two. It was all I could really see from the other side of the partition.

"Water under the bridge," Rarity said with a nod, which I figured was some sort of acknowledgement of a previous conversation. "Besides, it was a hideous dress."

"Rarity."

"Sunset, don't tense up like that.” Rarity stretched the tape around Sunset’s shoulders. "I want this to be accurate. You've put on a healthy weight since then. Oh, you should have seen her, Twilight, such a rail thin little thing."

"Thanks, mom," Sunset said with a bite. "Care to tell her about my cutie mark?"

That's a weird term to call a birthmark.

I fought the urge to ask what happened. There was a story there, clearly. However, it seemed like neither were willing to open up that well. Actually, it was more like Sunset didn’t want to talk about it. Someday was beginning to seem a lot farther off than I thought.

“Still, I’m very proud of you, Sunset.” Rarity scribbled down on her note pad. “It’s courageous of you to put yourself out for judgment in front of your peers again.”

Comments like that only worked to dig its way into my mind. I tried my best to ignore it, but it had likely already found its place deep into some part of my subconscious.

“It’s not a big deal.” Sunset rolled her shoulders and raised her arms as Rarity continued to make measurements. She glanced over the partition. “Hey, Twi, you still curious about my measurements?”

I buried my face in my hands. “Sunset…”

“Inside joke, I presume?” Rarity asked.

“Yeah, you know how Twilight was when she was crushing on me.”

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle." Sunset laughed as she turned to me. “You had it real bad for me.”

I laughed defensively. "What?”

"You were like a lost little puppy following someone home,” Rarity said, joining in on the teasing. “It really was obvious to everyone.”

“Okay, I’ve officially had enough of this topic.”

“Good.” Sunset emerged from the partition. “Cause it’s your turn to get measured up.” She slipped on her jacket. “I’m gonna go out for a walk while you get fitted. I need the air.” She smirked over to Rarity. “Keep it professional. She’s mine.”

My legs supported me a little less when she called me hers.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I had a vague idea of what I was going to do for my performance at the Spring Fling. I was going to play piano and sing. About what, I didn’t know. That became even more obvious as I sat down at the keys, something I hadn’t done in a long time.

Thankfully, it felt natural to play again, even if the the last time I really sat down and practiced was before I even transferred to Canterlot High.

Most of the songs I played were love songs, unsurprisingly. They lent themselves well to the piano. It could be performed solo, for all your lonely and pining pieces. In duet, four hands dancing around and with each other. Or even accompaniment with another instrument, like the guitar, for a totally random example.

Okay, I wanted to sing love songs with my girlfriend. Sue me. If I could (trust me, I asked), I would have performed the talent portion of the pageant with Sunset. Maybe we could have “ponied up” together. Maybe I could feel what she felt.

The door to the study flew open, and my father practically dragged himself to the large recliner in the corner. As a good luck charm, he made it a habit to not shave or cut his hair while in production, but he looked much more beat up than usual.

“Welcome back!”

“Am I interrupting anything?”

I tapped a quick string of chords. “No, not really.”

“Oh, you’re playing again. Lovely.” I could hear his smile through his beard. “Thought you dropped it after you joined your new band.”

Annoyed chords. “I just had trouble finding time to practice. Now I have a good reason.”

“Which is?”

“Got a new performance coming up,” I answered, dancing around whether I should mention the pageant. I decided not to. “So, how’s the movie coming along?”

He groaned. “I’ve had… a week.”

I chuckled. “Sounds intense. Was it the big Mexicolt shoot?”

“No, those two months of torture are another few weeks off.“ His laugh was riddled with pain. He ran a hand through his greasy hair. “Every project’s cursed in its own way. This one is named Yearling.”

“Ouch.” I closed the cover over the piano’s keys. “I know she’s Mom’s friend and all, but if it’s that bad…”

He shrugged. “Trust me, it was worse when we were younger. We’ve only gotten kinder with age. Besides, she’s more than just a family friend. She’s also your godmother.”

Wait, what?

“Okay, how’d the heck did Mom talk you into that?”

“It’s a long story,” he said. He rubbed at his chin for a moment but continued, thankfully. “Yearling cut us out from her life when she found out your mother and I were getting married. It was ugly.”

I didn’t know how to process the idea of one of my favorite authors hating my parents.

He rubbed at the top of his thigh. “She shut us out because she was afraid we’d leave her behind. Of course, your mother would never let that happen, but any attempts to reconnect were shutdown.”

“So what happened?” I was leaning on the piano.

“Then we had you. Your mother got the idea to ask Yearling to be your godmother. It was perfect, really. You know how writers love their symbols. Yearling took it as a declaration that she always has a spot in the family.”

“Wait.” Something clicked. I jumped from the piano and towards the bookshelf. I didn’t have to search long to find my copy of the first Daring Do book—the one that apparently Yearling herself gave me for my birthday. I tore through to the dedication at the front: “To my goddaughter, my new light. That’s me!?”

“Yeah?”

I hit him with the book. “And you never thought to bring it up!?”

He laughed. “Your mother made me swear not to share the story until you were old enough to appreciate it. Apparently, you don’t yet.”

“Then why now?”

He sunk deeper into the chair. “I needed the reminder. I trusted her with my baby, and she’s trusting me with hers. Daring Do’s a very personal character for her if you read between the lines.”

I thought about it: Daring Do was fiercely independent and had trouble letting people in, mostly because they’d betray her at some point in the story. Yearling milked it for all it was worth in book four, when Daring refused to rely on others even with her broken arm.

It kind of reminded me of Sunset with how headstrong they both were.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“What’cha doin’, babe?”

“Gah!” I nearly jumped from my desk, and I was also very close to throwing electronics parts everywhere. I swiveled from my chair to face her. “How’d you get in?”

“Your parent’s let me in,” she answered. “They look busy.”

I nodded. I was surprised they even noticed Sunset coming in. They were leaving for Mexicolt soon for the on location scenes.

“Your turn to answer,” she said.

“Oh, I was just tinkering.”

“Is that your phone?” Sunset leaned over my shoulder and examined the neatly organized parts of what was my cellphone. “So that’s why you haven’t replied to any of my texts.”

I offered a sheepish laugh and turned back to my project. “Sorry, I might’ve gotten a little carried away. I just got curious about the internal engineering after I… watched this video. Then I figured I could take my phone apart and study it myself.

“There’s actually a lot of really neat tech jammed into this thing that I can incorporate in my own designs for spatial efficiency. There’s a gyroscope, an accelerometer—both of which work together for the GPS—a barometer for weather apps—I don’t really know why I’d need an infrared sensor on my phone, but I guess it’s nice to have. Unfortunately, most of the computing parts like the memory and processor are soldered onto the motherboard, which makes it a little annoying that I can’t really upgrade anything other than the battery and maybe the antenna. That’s not even getting into the software.

“Like, most phones have roughly the same internals, but it’s software that makes the true difference.” I leaned over and carefully lifted the camera unit between two fingers and showed it to Sunset. “Take the camera, for example. The lens are made by the same few companies, but the proprietary post-processing software decides aesthetics like sharpness, color saturation, and of course, the portrait mode for all the selfies we take together. So some consumers prefer the look of one phone’s pictures over the other.

“But I’m getting off-course,” I said, placing the lens down. “What I found really interesting during my research about these being the same phones on the inside is that that the phone manufacturers play a strategic game with each other in terms of innovation. That’s why phone screens have been getting bigger by the year. It creates the illusion of innovation.

“However, if you remember from Econ class, the question of whether to actually innovate kind of plays like the Equilibrium Problem in game theory, which I find endlessly fascinating. All the phone companies were fine with bigger screens and faster processors. Then the uPhone suddenly removed the headphone jack to push bluetooth products like wireless headphones.

“This left the other manufacturers at an impasse. Do they cooperate and keep the headphone port, position themselves as consumer friendly brands, and offer a legitimate hardware alternative to make sales since they’re losing the software war? Or do they follow Citrus’ example and position themselves early for the growing wireless audio market? Reminder, if they stay unified, in equilibrium, the industry-wide resistance might be enough for Citrus to course correct and return to using the jack, keeping them from gaining an advantage and the markets the same. So what did they do?

“They did the worst thing, which was act in their self interest. Some companies kept the jack and hurt themselves by losing an opportunity at market share in the bluetooth industry. The others removed the jack but didn’t come close to gaining a leg up in the markets because if consumers were going to buy a jack-less phone, then they’d go with… you guessed it, the one with the most familiar software suite and operating system.

“Now all phones are slowly removing it, and the big winner in all this is Citrus as they now lead in wireless headphone sales and keep their grip on cellphone market share. Of course, this glosses over other factors like Citrus’ effort into marketing itself as a luxury brand rather than just a tech comp… What?”

Sunset chuckled. It was breathy and unfocused. She shook her head, and her curls bounced with her. “Sorry, I got lost once I started thinking about how much I loved hearing you talk. You get really cute when you're excited and rambly.”

“I, uh, heh, eeee, yeah. Very thank.” My face burned, and all the breath left my body.

Sunset laughed again and took my hands. “That speech was the second most impressive thing you could’ve done with your mouth.”

“What’s the first?” I asked. Then she whispered impure words into my ear, and I immediately regretted it. I pushed her off. “Sunset!”

She cackled this time and took a deep breath. “Okay, but seriously, piece your phone back together. I missed texting my girlfriend.” She retreated to my bed and flopped down onto it. “Sweet Cel… do you sleep on a cloud? It’s been forever since I’ve slept on a bed this nice.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I chose to focus on putting my phone back together instead. “So, tomorrow’s the big day. You nervous?”

“Nah, odds are in our favor, right?” she responded. “I would definitely not mind losing to you.”

“I wouldn’t mind losing to you either.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she joked, nestling into my bed. “If we’re still talking game theory, we can both throw the pageant and let Trixie win.” She yawned. “She deserves it more than me.”

“You deserve it.”

“I deserve this nap,” she countered. “Work nearly broke me.” She rolled over onto her stomach and hugged one of my pillows. “Text me when you’re done.”

“Sure.” I focused back onto the desk and lowered the volume of the engineering podcast I had playing on my laptop.

“Keep it on,” she hummed. “It helps me sleep.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Gah! Not so tight!”

I bit my cheek as Rarity continued to tighten the dress around me. Cutting off my blood flow certainly was one way to keep my heart from racing. The Miss. Wondercolt Pageant was about to start, and I was half-naked in the school’s band room.

“Sorry, dear, I just need to make sure it’s on right.”

I could feel my organs slide up into my chest as she tied the back. I let out another pained yelp along with the last bit of air in my body, but that did nothing to stop her from making sure my waistline was unrealistically shapely.

“Is it being this tight really going to help me win?”

“Not at all, not that you need the help,” she answered. “I’m confident that either you or Sunset will be crowned princess next week.”

“What about the other girls? Surely they have a shot.”

“They’re not wearing my dresses,” Rarity said with a smirk. “And I’m not one to gossip, but I’ve heard other students find Lyra a bit abrasive. The whole school also just humors Trixie’s little magic tricks. They never seem to go right.”

“Right.” It was reassuring to hear that I at least had a shot.

“Alright.” Rarity stepped back and surveyed her work, holding her chin. “Sit tight while I go help Sunset with her dress.”

“You can bring her in here,” I said. “You don’t have to run between rooms.”

Rarity shook her head. “Nope. I want to preserve some surprise for when you two step up onto the stage. I don’t want either of you to see the other before it’s time. I must preserve that 'whoa' moment.”

“Rarity, we’re not getting married.”

“Funny that your thoughts went there, dear.” Rarity poked at my intricately styled hair. “Besides, these dresses have nothing on the one I have sketched up for your wedding.”

“M-my wedding!?” I stammered. My face felt warm. “Sunset and I haven’t thought that far.”

Rarity giggled. “Again, your mind went there, not mine. I just meant to say that I’ve sketched up a wedding dress for every one of the girls, not just you and Sunset. It’s great practice, and it fills out my portfolio.”

“Oh,” I said sheepishly. “Okay.”

She rubbed my shoulder. “Though, I suppose, I could always tweak the design in case you two do tie the knot.”

My face felt like it was on fire. Rarity only giggled before ducking out the room. I wasn't sure if the blood rushing to my head was from her comments or the dress forcing it up to my cheeks like a rolled up tube of toothpaste.

Then my phone buzzed, and I awkwardly stooped over to dig it out from my bag. It was the girls from Crystal Prep, all wishing me luck at the pageant. I thanked them all before realizing that Sugarcoat had sent something different:

There’s something about your girl I think you should know.

I threw my phone back into my bag, immediately knowing that I wanted nothing to do with whatever dirt she found. It buzzed again, but I just ignored it. If I lost without it, then so be it. If Sugarcoat was acting in my interest, fine I could have a talk about it with her later, but I was acting in mine.

“Trixie thought she would never leave.”

My head whipped towards the source of the noise. Apparently, there was a rather large and conspicuous blue box sitting in the corner of the room. A half-second later, Trixie emerged, posing dramatically to accentuate her entrance.

“How long have you been in there?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“Oh.” I hugged myself out of modesty. “Oh.”

Trixie walked over to the dress on display, sized it up, and clicked her tongue.

“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Trixie is scouting the competition. Again.” She pinched the shoulder of the gown and studied the fabric. “She is not impressed.”

I looked over her choice of wear for the pageant’s opening ceremony. “Is that what you’re wearing?” I asked, too late to catch the catty judgement in my tone. I hate that they pointed it out.

“Trixie designed it herself,” she said, striking another pose, stretching her arms out. The sleeves were a few inches short from her wrist, and I noticed a tear under her right arm. I hid a smirk under my hand.

“Why the sleeves?” I couldn’t help it.

“Though the winter may be waning, I still prefer to keep warm.” She pinched at her cuff and winked.

Nodding, I rolled my shoulders, still trying to loosen the gown. “So I take it you don’t have any tricks up your sleeve?”

“Of course not. Any magic comes purely from Trixie’s natural connection to the mystical forces.”

“Right,” I said. I leaned back into my seat. “Can you do one for me?”

“Of course.” She pointed her nose to the air, keeping her chin held high. “I'll give you a taste of my routine for tonight. Perhaps it will inspire you to drop out of the competition."

She stood still for a moment and closed her eyes. She flicked her wrist, and a foul smelling liquid squirted out from her sleeve and onto the floor.

“That’s it?”

“There was supposed to be smoke and fire,” Trixie said, rubbing her forearm. “Certain kinks need to be ironed out. Thank you for the practice. Now if you’ll excuse Trixie.” She rushed towards the door. “It appears that I may have misplaced my mice.”

She left the room, and I immediately brought my feet up to the seat and hugged my knees. About five or so minutes later, Rarity returned. Her nose immediately crinkled at the scent of lighter fluid.

“What’s that smell?”

“Magic.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

After Rarity helped me slip on my dress (and a quick photo shoot for her portfolio), she led me down the halls and towards the back entrance of the auditorium. She held my hand the entire way through as I struggled to balance on the high heels she insisted I wear. They were much too tall for my liking, but I couldn't say no.

She brought me in for a quick hug before flicking her fingers as if she was sprinkling off drops of water. “Sending good vibes your way, dear. Best of luck.”

Backstage was dim, and I could barely make out the immediate area. A lot of it was just tucked away props and lights for the school plays. Though, I did see one of the stagehands waving me over. I hobbled towards him, slowly getting better at walking.

“You’re gonna stand here and enter towards center stage when they call out your name,” he said in a low whisper.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a deep breath.

I stood there for a few minutes as the master of ceremonies droned on about the evening’s events. It was standard pageant fare with the whole formal wear, talent, and Q&A. There was no swimsuit portion, thankfully. Though, I couldn’t help but wonder what Sunset would have worn.

I didn’t have much time to think on it as the emcee began to call out our names. Lyra was first, then Trixie, then Sunset, and then me. I took a breath, and did my best attempt to walk out with grace and meet the others.

Whoa.

My eyes gravitated towards Sunset, who was already looking back at me. I stalled in place, which I figured was the exact reaction that Rarity was hoping for. It took me a full few seconds to continue walking as I shook my thoughts away and joined her at the front of the stage.

As the emcee droned on, I glanced towards Sunset and felt my heart speed up. I noticed she was looking back at me. We both looked at each others’ dresses, admiring the outfit and the person inside it. Then I realized just how evil Rarity was: we were wearing each other’s colors.

I rubbed at my elbow. “Rarity did a great job with your dress.”

“I was just about to say the same thing,” she whispered back. “She found a way to really bring out your curves.”

My curves?

I glanced down at my dress, trying to figure out what she was talking about. I found nothing. Looking back up at Sunset, I noticed the sly smirk on her face and a stifled laugh. She winked, and I felt my face flare up. The tightness of my corset didn’t even let me take in a decent breath to calm down.

“Can you two not do this on stage?” Lyra snapped, talking out the side of her mouth.

“Trixie agrees and suggests you two get a room.”

I balled my hands into fists and bit the inside of my cheek. They were right. I would have much preferred to have this conversation in the privacy of a closed room. But no. My blush was on display for everyone in the auditorium to see.

These are just mind games Sunset told you straight to your face that she'd do this. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

I looked to the audience. The rest of the girls were already in the front row. And of course, Rarity had already began snapping pictures with her phone, immortalizing my flustered face for her portfolio.

"Now that we've met out latest class of lovely ladies, let's get to know them a little better with a little Q&A!"

Okay. We were starting off simple. That I could appreciate. In my experience, I had won pageants off the Q&A portion alone. Sure, it had been a while—a long while, actually—but it couldn’t have been much different. Besides, the person I wanted to like me the most was already my girlfriend. This was just for fun. Sunset seemed to be taking it in stride.

I followed the rest of the candidates towards a table set at the center of the stage and took a seat next to Sunset only to find Pinkie Pie waiting for us with a handful of flashcards in her hands (because of course she was). She bounced in place,

"Pinkie?"

"Yep, yep!" she answered with a lilt. "Get ready, cause these questions are some doozies."

"Oh, gods, not again.” Lyra sunk into her seat.

"SO!" Pinkie chirped, flipping through her cards. "Let's start with some off super duper, easy-peasy questions. Everyone, why did you decide to sign up for a chance to be this year’s Ms. Wondercolt?" She leaned forward and practically shoved the microphone into Lyra’s face.

"My girlfriend made me do it," Lyra answered, staring daggers at her partner, who sat in the front row next to my group of friends. Bon Bon only held her hands up into a heart and grinned.

"How 'bout you, Sunset Shimmer?”

Sunset shrugged and gestured to me. "My girlfriend made me do it."

Then the spotlight was on me. "Uh, my girlfriend made me do it?"

Trixie tugged at her collar and swallowed as she leaned into the microphone. "Trixie made... Trixie do it." She put her hands down on her lap. "We are very close."

There was a small bit of laughter from the audience. I found myself slouching in my seat to avoid the secondhand embarrassment. If it continued like this, it was going to feel more like an interrogation for the poor girl.

"Great! All very lovely answers.” Pinkie shuffled her cards and hummed. Her smile went wide as she stopped at a card. "LyLy, If you were an ice cream flavor, what would you be and why?"

Lyra scrunched her nose. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

I could hear Bon Bon's palm connect with her forehead all the way from here and even through the quick round of laughter.

Pinkie only shook off the insult and scribbled down in her notes. "I'm gonna put down Coffee because you're bitter but have a spunky energy to you."

"Sure, that works," Lyra said, leaning back into her seat.

"Hey, Sunny," Pinkie called, knocking onto the table. "Same question, if you were an ice cream flavor, which would you be?"

Sunset glanced over at me and smirked. "Chocolate, because it's Twilight's favorite." As if rehearsed, she leaned onto my shoulder as a resonant "aww" went through the auditorium.

Oh jeez, she's good.

She then said under her breath, "Also cause I'd like you to eat me."

I let out a yelp.

"You two are the worst.” Lyra groaned.

"Trixie agrees."

The spotlight’s heat was beginning to wear down on me. I tugged at the straps of my dress. Hopefully no one in the audience could tell I was starting to sweat. Then I realized Sunset probably could, and it only made me more self-aware. She knew what she was doing. She flashed another grin, and from then I knew Sunset Shimmer wasn’t trying to lose.

"Oh, Twily," Pinkie sang. “Your answer?"

I was still reeling from Sunset's comment. Her hand was on my knee—Cheater!—and I slapped it away. "Vanilla! Vanilla's good! Everyone loves a classic. It's nice, sweet, and… plain."

There was a mild applause from the audience. Sunset hid her laugh behind her hand. At least she got the message.

“Lulamooooooooon??”

"Also chocolate," Trixie said flatly before holding up a finger to elaborate. “However, with that hot chocolate sauce that hardens in seconds because Trixie finds it utterly confusing, yet enchanting."

There was a noticeably louder applause, with a rather boisterous "YEAH!" from the back row.

Well I blew that round.

Pinkie turned to her cards again, which gave me a few seconds to breathe (and I would have if the dress allowed it). “Alrighty, since you're all seniors, what's everyone planning on doing once they graduate? Let's start with TwiTwi."

"Uh, I’ve already committed to Everton—early decision—for their independent study program in mechanical engineering.” More polite applause. Sunset looked at me like she was caught off guard by my answer. She held onto my hand, as Pinkie moved on.

"Trixie's taking the first bus straight to Las Pegasus—" Her answer was interrupted by a loud applause and cheers. "—to follow her dreams and be a stage magician." The audience seemed to quiet down, and Trixie tugged at her sleeves. “Though, I did apply as a hospitality major at the University of Neighvada, Las Pegasus.”

"Vanhoover U, majoring in An—" Lyra took a sip of water. "Analytical statistics. Go Hoovers.”

All eyes were on Sunset now, and I was genuinely curious about her answer. I never thought to ask where she was going after CHS.

"I dunno," she said, looking down at her hands on the table. "I'll figure something out. Maybe take a gap year or something. I don’t think college is right for me anyways.”

The room was silent after her response.

"Same answer as last year," Lyra noted, her voice low.

That had to be a lie. It just didn’t make sense. Sunset could get into any school she wanted to. Was it a money issue? It couldn’t have been. With her grades, she could even get a free ride through scholarships.

From the sound of it, it seemed like she didn’t even want to try. There was no way she’d just throw away her future like that.

“Twilight!”

I yelped.

“What scares you?” Pinkie asked.

Don't say quesadillas. Don't say quesadillas. Don'tsayquesadillas.

“Uh, ques—questions! Unanswered questions.” I forced a laugh, and it came out like a cough. “Uncertainty. Is. Terrifying.”

Satisfied with scaring me half to death, Pinkie turned away. “Lyra, Lyra, Bo-Byra, Banana Fanna Fo—“

“Heights!”

Pinkie pouted but moved on. “Trixie?”

The magician stared off into the distance. “Trixie fears that after she becomes the greatest and most powerful stage magician, famed across the country, the loneliness she feels inside will not go away. Oh, and also heights.”

Everyone seemed to be thankful to move on—but not before Pinkie smiled and squeezed Trixie’s hand that seemed that said more than words could possibly accomplish.

Then all the attention was on Sunset again, and I could feel every pair of eyes in the room. I just was glad that I got my answer over with, but it wasn’t all that surprising to see that she didn’t want to answer.

Sunset crossed her arms, and the silence began to grate on everyone in the room. “Yeah, hard pass.”

“Well if that question’s too scary for you…” Pinkie teased as she looked through her cards. “Oh! What’s your favorite thing about your girlfriend? The mushier your answer, the better.”

Sunset looked at me, and I watched the sharp, guarded look in her eyes soften. A smile tugged at her lips. It was subtle, but it was there, and I knew she was struggling to find a place to start.

“When she knows who she is and what she wants, Twilight’s unstoppable.” The way she said it, it seemed like we were the only two people in the room. “You should see the way her eyes light up when she’s rambling about whatever she finds interesting. It’s amazing. It shows up in flashes, but it’s that kind of self-confidence I’d love to see more of.”

The dress had to be cutting off airflow to my brain because I was giggling like an idiot in front of everyone. I didn’t care.

—☀—

Intermission came after a few more rounds of painful questioning. I felt that I did alright in endearing myself to the audience, but Sunset was as captivating as ever. Perfect as always. Trixie was also surprisingly charming in all her awkward glory. I felt myself rooting for her the most, despite the fact that I was dating another contestant.

Trixie was on first as her routine had the most set up, which left the rest of us to wait in the back. From what I saw from behind the curtain, it seemed to be going well.

"That was quite the stunt," I said, taking a seat next to Sunset. "Pretty good mind-games you had going on. Almost had me there."

She laughed and brought her hand to her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about. I meant every word that I said." She held both my hands. "Every word."

"I'm going to vomit." Lyra pointed at her throat and gagged. "Hear that? That's bile."

Bon Bon held her girlfriend's hand and smiled apologetically. "Don't mind her. She's coffee."

"I'm coffee," Lyra repeated, sinking into her partner's shoulder.

Bon Bon giggled. “I would have loved to see what you would have said if you got Sunset’s question.”

“Better I didn’t,” Lyra answered with a shrug. “I don’t think you’d appreciate me telling everyone at school how much I like your butt.”

Bon Bon backhanded her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Don’t be gross.”

I hid my laugh behind my hand right before I felt something furry brush past my ankles.

"Copperfield, no!" Trixie cried, running past us and chasing after a stray rabbit. "You were supposed to hold still!"

Sunset laughed. "I guess that's our cue.”

"Still keeping your performance a secret?"

She nodded. "Don't worry, you'll see soon enough."

Sure enough, Sunset’s name was called next. I followed her as close as I could without stepping out on stage.

I gave Sunset a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good luck,”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile before walking out on stage. I couldn’t help notice how confident she was. She made it look easy to step out and let herself be watched and judged by others. Even in my experience, I had to mentally prepare myself.

Sunset stood center stage, hand wrapped around a microphone. There was a half second of silence before the music began. The composition was simple, something Sunset might have written on her own. It was a song about a phoenix, ashes, transformation.

From her voice, I could tell she was singing about something personal. There was a strained tone to it, like she was pleading for others to listen to her. As the song went on, her voice grew grainy.

Then I noticed a faint glow. A thin aura wrapped around her and then quickly enveloped the stage. I shielded my eyes for a moment. When I looked back up, Sunset had transformed.

She was an angel again.

A pair of wings made of light lifted her into the air, and I could hear a collective gasp in the room. Her hair defied gravity, twirling upwards like the flickers of a flame. The glow gave off a hazy feeling in the air as summer came early.

She was beautiful.

And I felt so small.

I was honestly afraid that I would never get to see her like this again. My knees gave up on me. I stopped breathing, and the pounding in my chest joined her song.

Slowly, Sunset floated back down to earth. Her voice trailed off, and there was a peaceful stillness. Her eyes were closed, and she took deep, ragged breaths. The glow disappeared along with her wings and horn, and the room felt much colder than before.

Then came the applause. It was earthshaking, and the whole school was just as in love with her as I was.

The first thing Sunset did when she opened her eyes was look back at me.

Author's Note

"Game theory provides a formal language for the representation and analysis of interactive situations, that is, situations where several “entities”, called players, take actions that affect each other." [X]

Labeling Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

Labeling Theory

Author's Note

“Labeling theory holds that on some occasion everybody shows behavior that can be called deviant. For various reasons, only certain people are labeled as deviant because of this behavior.

Labeling entails that the identity assigned to an individual is in some respect altered to their discredit. Essentially, two effects come from labeling. On the one hand, an individual's social situation is changed; on the other, their self-image. They begin to conceive of themself as a deviant." [X]

Labeling Theory

The girls rushed the stage and swarmed Sunset in hugs and and cheers and congratulations. I had to force myself to step out from behind the curtain to join them. Once I was close enough, Sunset grabbed me by the waist and brought me in for a kiss.

The crowd reacted exactly how I thought it would. We pulled apart, and the spotlight sparkled in her eyes.

“That was amazing,” I said, my voice breathy.

“The kiss or the performance?”

“Both?”

Rainbow Dash clapped my back. “Good luck following that, Twilight!”

My stomach dropped, dragging me down with it, and I felt nauseous. I looked to the others for guidance, but they were still high up in the clouds after Sunset’s performance. Back on Earth, it felt like my throat had closed up on me, and I couldn’t ask for help.

I only had a few minutes to prepare myself as the stage crew already began to roll in the piano from its place backstage. There was no way I could even compare myself to Sunset, let alone match her performance. I didn’t even realize I was shaking until Sunset put her hand on mine.

“You alright, Twi?” She rubbed her thumb across the back of my hand.

“I… I’ll be fine,” I said, my voice weak and unconvincing. All it took was one performance for her to turn me into that same blubbering idiot that first fell in love with her. I hadn’t changed at all, yet she was just as supportive and wonderful as ever.

This time, Sunset brought both hands on mine. “You got this, Twilight,” she said. And for a moment, I believed her.

I don’t deserve her.

I shook that thought away as I forced myself up. There was no use getting in my own head. If I was going to have any chance of impressing the audience, I needed to be just as good as Sunset. I needed to be just like her: confident, collected, perfect. She saw it in me somewhere.

My name was called, and I was only ready because I had to be. I kept my chin up and focused on my steps, praying that I didn’t roll my ankle in the heels as I walked out onto the stage, under the lights, and in front of a hundred pairs of eyes. No matter. I had this. I totally got this. Yeah.

I immediately crumbled.

I took a seat at the piano and played a quick note. It was out of tune. I hadn’t bothered to account for the fact that there was a nonzero chance that school’s piano wouldn't be in tune. Canterlot High was a public school, after all. I shouldn’t have expected that the exorbitant cost of getting a piano tuned to be in the yearly budget. I was so used to the one at home. Why did I expect it to be perfect?

I took a deep breath. It came out loud over the speaker, and I immediately grew conscious of my own breathing. I was already off to a horrible start, and I knew it could only get worse.

Just breathe, Twilight. Breathing isn’t hard.

And then I glanced over to the audience. I shouldn't have. Expectant eyes were all trained on me, and I felt like a specimen under a microscope.

How did Sunset do this so easily?

I licked my lips. They were painfully dry. A layer of sweat sat on my forehead. The stage lights might as well have been cooking me alive.

Focus.

I let out another deep breath. Then I began to sing.

The lack of confidence was clear in my voice. I just hoped it was a case of me being too critical of myself and that the audience wouldn’t notice.

But what was Sunset thinking?

The thought of tanking in front of Sunset scared me more than anything. I continued to sing, hours of rehearsal pushing me to get it done. My voice was weak, but at least I was hitting the notes. Though, from the short glances I took to gauge the reactions, I knew I wasn’t impressing anyone.

My gaze drifted towards Sunset, the latest in a long series of mistakes. I could see the pity in her eyes.

I stopped singing. Instead, I just got up and ran off stage, ignoring Sunset as she called my name.

—☀—

I didn't know how to describe how I felt. Small. Unimportant. Insignificant. I don’t even know why I felt that way. I just did.

The pageant was almost over, and the next week would be spent voting for Miss Wondercolt. Then at the dance, whoever won would be crowned Spring Fling Princess. It didn’t matter. Sunset was going to win. Like she always did, apparently

And I was happy for her. At least I thought I was.

I don’t know.

To be honest, I wanted to do the pageant because I thought it’d be a fun thing to do with her. Unfortunately, all it did was remind me why she felt so unapproachable in the first place.

She was perfect, and I didn’t deserve her.

I rushed back into the dressing room, just glad I didn’t twist my ankle off in my heels before I kicked them off. Every bit of air left my body in a heavy sigh as I slumped down on the first chair I could find. I just needed to be alone. That I knew.

“Ah, Trixie remembers the first time Sunset Shimmer crushed her dreams.” Her voice came from the inside of her magician’s box. “You come here to cry, too, Sparkle?”

I rolled my eyes as I slipped on a sweatshirt over my dress. At this point, I just wanted to go home. “Not now, Trixie.”

“Truth be told, this wasn’t as painful as the other years.” She said it so casually, like she had been expecting it.

“The other years?”

Trixie laughed, muffled slightly from the cabinet. “Someone had to try to end her reign of terror all those years. I’m just surprised she didn’t try cheating again. No blackmail. No intimidation in that spooky hallway with the light that never works. Nothing.”

Again? Blackmail? It all just sounded so wrong.

“What are you talking about?” I couldn’t process what she was saying. It couldn’t be true. I didn’t know why, but I thought of the photo of Sunset as a freshman. There was no way she cheated. The tears in her eyes when she was named princess were real. There was just no way. “I’m sure she earned it.”

“Earned it?” There was a quick beat of silence before Trixie emerged from her box, hands tight, eyes puffy, and brows bent. “Do you really think she won that many times because everyone at school liked her? Sparkle, even I’m not that naive.”

“Then you tell me what happened!” I blew up at her, and Trixie seemed to jump back.

Trixie rubbed at her wrists. “She’d threaten anyone that ran against her. If they didn’t drop out, she’d sabotage them.”

“That doesn’t sound like her. She’s been nothing but kind to me.”

“Kind!? She humiliated me in front of everyone sophomore year.” The pain in Trixie’s eyes was just as real. “She doused one of my props in lighter fluid, and…” She held her arms out like any performer would. The fire-sparklers in her sleeves worked this time. “Now everyone thinks me and my dreams are a joke.”

“No…” As much as I didn’t want to believe her, I didn’t have the heart to call Trixie a liar, either.

“Ask her yourself.”

I reached for my phone and winced when I saw the messages from Sunset waiting for me.

—Hey are you ok?
— where are you?

I didn’t text her back. Instead, my fingers hovered over Sugarcoat’s message from earlier: There’s some things about your girl I think you should know.

Right under it was a link to Canterlot city hall’s website.

I did the worst thing and clicked it. I just had to know.

Some sort of official court document with Sunset’s name on it. I didn’t even want to know how Sugarcoat found it. And I knew that she most likely had my best interest at heart, but it stung, and I hated her for it.

It still didn’t feel real.

It said that Sunset Shimmer went to juvenile hall for assault.

It was right there in legal paper, but I still didn’t believe it. The document was dated right at the end of Sunset’s freshman year. It couldn’t have been that same little girl. It just couldn’t.

It had to be the other Sunset Shimmer—the one originally from this universe. She was still out somewhere in the world, right? It couldn’t have been my Sunset. That wasn’t the Sunset I knew.

Trixie brushed past me. “The closing ceremony starts soon.” She stepped up to the door and held it open. “Might as well see it through till the end. You coming?”

“I’ll catch up with you.” That was a lie. I couldn’t go back.

Trixie paused halfway out the door. “I hope she’s kind to you,” she said. “Really, I do, Sparkle. It’s better for everyone that she’s changed, but that doesn’t take back what she’s done.”

Once she was gone. I forced on shoes and grabbed my bag. I was never a runner, but I rushed out the school until my chest was heaving from either exhaustion or the choked sobs I forced back so I could breathe.

The night air was freezing, and the sharp breaths I took invited thousands of tiny needles into my lungs. I stumbled down the steps and dropped to my knees, scuffing the dress Rarity spent all her free time on the past few weeks. I tried to brush it off, but I had other things to worry about.

Another deep breath, then I stood back up, right in front of the Wondercolt statue.

Princess Twilight would know what to do.

I didn’t have any other options, so I stepped to the grass, grabbed a pebble, and threw it at the Wondercolt statue.

It bounced off the marble.

The cold bit at my face. I was alone in this. I could either ask Sunset about it, or I could go back inside and pretend like nothing happened. The only thing I really wanted to do was go home.

“There you are, Twilight!” It was Sunset, and my body went rigid hearing her voice. She was breathing heavily, and I figured she must have been running around looking for me.

“Hey, Sunset.” I turned to face her but found myself staring at the ground as she rushed down the steps.

She brought me in for a hug, and I tried to return it with limp arms. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. It was a lie. She held onto me as I tried to pull away.

She squeezed my wrists. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be fine.”

I nodded again. I was looking through her, and I swallowed any would-be sobs. “I’ll be fine.”

“You were great, Twilight.”

I shook my head. “I just collapsed in front of everyone.”

“Who cares what they think?” Sunset took in a deep breath, and I could see in the way she winced that she was debating something. “We don’t have to stay. The girls know we’re meeting at Sugarcube Corner after. We can just… go. ”

“What?” There was still the closing ceremony. Running off would mean… “No. You deserve it. Everyone loved you out there.”

“Who cares what they think?” It was strained the second time. She rubbed at her arm. “And I don’t deserve anything.”

“Don’t say that!” My voice warbled, but I meant it, and I think she knew it, too. “You don’t have to give that up for me.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay back in there?”

I nodded again. I finally had the strength to look her back in the eyes, and I didn’t know who I was looking at.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

“Coming in hot!” Rainbow warned as she dumped a few trays of food onto the table. She slid into the booth, bumping into Rarity from her momentum before passing out everyone’s meals. Applejack followed, carrying a mountain of sweets that Pinkie Pie insisted on ordering.

I sulked in the corner of the booth and hoped no one would notice me until it was time to go home. The closing ceremony was a painful blur, but having Sunset next to me helped me get through it. I would’ve died from embarrassment if I had to face the crowd alone as I got polite applause for doing the bare minimum of getting back on stage.

There was an awkward tension in the air. It stung, mostly cause it seemed like everyone but me wanted to celebrate. Sunset squeezed my hand again, and I felt lucky to have her. At least I thought I felt that way. Maybe I just wanted to feel that way. My thoughts were a mess anyway. Sugarcoat’s text and what Trixie had said earlier were dominating my thoughts.

All that should really matter anyway was that Sunset had only been wonderful to me since I met her, right? I kept telling myself that at least. Did I even have the right to know who she was before I met her?

I didn’t rejoin reality until I noticed that I had a bit of cupcake frosting on the tip of my nose. I also only just then realized that Pinkie had been waiting for me to accept the cupcake that she had just shoved into my face.

Sunset wiped the frosting off my nose with her thumb and smiled at me. I tried to return it, but I quickly became self conscious about the way I was forcing myself. Instead, I picked at the cupcake’s wrapper and tried to zone out again.

“So,” Rarity began, sipping away at her drink, “how are the two of you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” I answered. It was probably the best lie I ever pulled off.

“Same,” Sunset answered. “I think ponying-up took a lot more out of me than it would.”

Rainbow leaned over the table, planting her hands. “That wasn’t ponying-up. That was something else!”

“Yeah, it was like you were on fire,” Applejack added. “You just about lit up the whole room with your magic.”

“Simply radiant, darling.”

Fluttershy seemed to notice me moping and put a hand on my shoulder. “Oh, and Twilight was good, too.”

Rarity was the first to catch on, placing her hand on mine. “Right. Of course. Your performance was lovely as well, Twilight. I thought it was a beautiful ballad.”

“Thanks,” I said—though it was unconvincing. It would have been better if they hadn’t said anything. Instead, I just felt like an afterthought.

“That reminds me.” Rarity returned her hand back to the table. “We should probably discuss how we’re voting for Spring Fling Princess.”

I sunk further into the plastic cushion of the booth. “Just give it all to Sunset.”

“Isn’t coordinating like this cheating?” Applejack asked, gesturing to both me and Sunset. “Don’t feel quite honest.”

Not that Sunset’s a stranger to cheating— I couldn’t believe I thought that. Now I just felt even worse about myself.

Rarity looked through Applejack “Do you intend on voting for anyone other than Sunset or Twilight?”

“Well, no, but it still ain’t right.”

Rarity rolled her eyes and dug into her bag, eventually pulling out a notepad. “Okay, Applejack, who do you want to vote for?”

“I ain’t helpin’ ya fix the votes.” She crossed her arms.

“I just want to know for whom you’re voting.” Rarity clicked her pen. “So I can vote for the other. I’m entitled to vote any way I choose, and you’re not voting for anyone you don’t want to.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll vote for Sunset,” Applejack answered. Rarity scribbled down the answer.

I felt a hollow pang in my chest. It was obvious they all would choose Sunset if they weren’t obligated to humor me.

“Wait there’s seven of us,” Rainbow Dash pointed out.

Rarity shrugged. “We balance out the votes, and then Pinkie Pie votes for herself, and no one thinks twice.”

Pinkie wiped off a layer of frosting off her mouth. “Who said I wasn’t already gonna to vote for myself?”

“See?” Rarity hummed. “We help the both of you get votes, and it’s balanced.”

“Right,” I said, my back rigid. The whole conversation made me anxious. We were floating around an unasked question for a while now—one that was around before we even signed up for the pageant, but I just had to know. “Although, if you had to pick one of us to win…”

“I don’t think I need to know the answer,” Sunset said, suddenly just as uncomfortable.

“Yeah, Twilight,” Rarity said, “you know we can’t choose—“

“Sunset, easily,” Rainbow Dash answered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribcage from Rarity. “What!? She deserves it.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

The ride home was quiet. My pressing had only made things awkward between everyone from the unsure attempts to keep me content to the uncomfortable reality that they, in all likelihood, would also pick Sunset over me if there was a split between us.

Sunset walked me up the driveway and to the porch. I would’ve invited her inside, but the lights were off, and I figured that my parents had turned in early for their flight to Mexicolt. I didn’t want to wake them unless I absolutely had to. Sunset didn’t seem to want to stay long, either.

“Are you going to be alright?” Sunset asked again.

The answer was the same, “I’ll be fine,” from hours ago.

“If you need anything…”

I paused at the door, mentally preparing to ask the question on my mind the whole ride home. I winced. “Do you… actually plan on telling me about yourself?”

“What made you ask that?”

“I just… heard things.”

Sunset sighed and straightened out a few curls in her hair. “It’s late, Twilight. I think we both just need some sleep.”

“Oh. Okay.” I gave her a small nod, and she took that as a sign to leave. I watched her return to her bike and drive down the hill.

If someday were to ever come, it would be because I made it.

I decided it would be tonight.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

No more uncertainties.

The bus dropped me off about a block away from Sunset’s apartment building. And for some reason, the area felt a lot worse at night. My pace quickened around the corner to her place. I figured it just wasn’t as well lit as my neighborhood.

I hurried down the street and ducked inside her apartment complex. When I reached her door, I found myself tracing the stains in the carpet with the tip of my shoe.

I checked my phone. 11:11. I knocked at the door and waited for Sunset to show.

There was a bit of rustling behind the door. “Look, I get paid next Friday. I’ll have the rent then. You don’t have to keep—“

The door whipped open, and I saw Sunset with a scowl on her face and a cigarette in her mouth.

I don’t know why, but that just made it all real.

“Twilight?" Her face shriveled, and she hung her head. I watched embers fall from her lips. “Oh, fuck. Twilight.”

The expression on her face changed. I wasn’t sure how to describe it, disgusted, maybe. But I wasn't sure if she was mad at me for showing up or at herself for getting caught. I didn’t even know which would have been the better option.

Sunset tried to slam the door shut, but I didn’t let her, instead lodging my foot in the gap before it closed. I ignored the spike of pain in my ankle as I pushed my way into her apartment. It was full of smoke. It wasn’t the neighbors nor the thin walls. It was her. She wasn’t just being secretive. She was lying to me.

“So this is what you do when I’m not around. You know that stuff's poison, right?” My voice was quiet. I found myself staring at the ashy stains on her sweatpants. So that’s what they were. “What else have you been hiding?” I couldn’t even look her in the eye.

Sunset crossed her arms. “Would it change anything?”

“I don’t know.”

She took a long drag from her cigarette, as if out of spite. No apologies. “Do you want to know?” The words left her mouth with a cloud of smoke. “You’re not going to like what you see.”

I coughed and brushed toxic cloud away. Just gross. “Yes.”

Sunset left, disappearing into her bedroom. She came back with a shoebox. “I started stashing it all once you started coming over more.”

So she was hiding it. I bit the inside of my cheek, completely unsure if I wanted to continue. The casual admission seemed bad enough. However, I just had to know.

I just had to know.

Boxes of cigarettes, a bottle of liquor, and cannabis all densely packed together. It was worse than I thought.

She rubbed her arm. “This is me. Judge all you like.”

I looked through the box. I pulled out the bottle. “You’re not even old enough to drink.”

“Aren’t I?” She asked with raised eyes. “Have you seen my driver's license?”

“Don’t joke.” My face felt hot with embarrassment as I just now pieced together that her ID was likely illegitimate. I shook my head and put the bottle back before pointing at the bag of marijuana and winced. “And this is illegal.”

“It’s just a plant,” she said dismissively. “I don’t even know why it’s illegal here. Because in Equestria, plants aren't illegal unless it’s poison—”

“Oh, now you want to talk about Equestria?” I balled my hands into fists. “When it’s convenient? When it enables you?”

“We’re not having this conversation again.”

“Why not? You’re perfectly fine showing me your stash.” I turned to face the window. “I need some air.” I stepped away from her and forced my head out the window, taking in all the clean air I could get. It took a while for me to gather the strength to face her again.

“Twilight…” Sunset took in a breath. “What’s in that box — that’s the least of it.”

I swallowed. “I just want to know who you are. Because I've heard...”

“Where do I even start?” There was grit and smoke in her voice as she threw her hands up. “Because the further back you go, the worse it gets. Whatever you heard, it’s all true.”

I felt something hollow within me. “What?”

“I’ve done some awful things I can’t take back.” She looked past me. "I don't expect forgiveness. I just want to move on and do right."

I thought of Trixie, then of the assault, and I felt an awful pang in my chest. “I didn’t want to believe them. I thought you were better than this, Sunset.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms. “Better than what?”

“I don’t know.” I rubbed at the spot between my eyes. “A liar? A criminal?”

“Is that how you see me now?”

“Are you anything else?” I was hurt, and I wanted to hurt her back.

Sunset winced, but that quickly faded as her glare came back. “You think I’m proud of who I am? I’m sorry for not being sheltered and well-adjusted like you.”

I pushed back. “How is this my fault?”

“Everything has to be perfect with you.” Sunset threw her hands up. “You had our dates planned to the minute because it all had to live up to your expectations.”

“What do you mean?” I shrunk away a bit.

“Oh, grow up, Twilight.” She rolled her eyes. “You can’t even handle that I smoke when you’re not around. I don’t need you to tell me that it’s bad for me or that it’s illegal or that my groceries have too much salt in them.

“I don’t need you to fix me!” Sunset stared me down. “I’ve—I’ve been doing alright on my own.”

“Who even are you?” I asked. “I don’t even see why I—”

“Why you what?” Sunset interrupted with a bite, stepping forwards and pressuring me to the wall. “Fell for me?”

There was a painful silence in the room. My mouth went dry. “I don’t know.”

Sunset’s face changed. The anger in it was gone. She looked away, and I followed her gaze to the cactus I gave her. “Did you fall in love with me or the girl you made up in your project?”

I don’t know.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I rushed past her and out the door.

I was halfway down the hall when I heard glass shattering behind me. I looked back to see new stains in the carpet and a broken bottle. I kept running, rushing down the staircase. The entire way down, I felt numb. My body was moving mechanically, getting me out of there as my mind went blank.

Then I was out in the street. In the dark. I tore into my bag, grabbed my phone, and called my mom. “Please pick up. Please pick up. Mom, please…”

There was a click, and I hear my mother’s tired voice. “Twilight?”

I swallowed back a sob. “Mom I’m at S-Sunset’s.”

“At this hour?”

“Mom, please.” I didn’t want to hear anything. “I’m outside. Just come pick me up.”

“R-right,” her voice was more urgent. “I’ll be right there. Just stay somewhere with light.”

Sunset’s apartment went dark, and I wondered what she was doing. I was alone in the cold, waiting for a ride home and resisting crying as I refused to let her hear me like this.

I took deep, slow breaths until I found my mom’s car down the street. Jumping up, I rushed inside and found myself staring off into space once I sat down.

“Twily?”

It was then when I broke. I started crying, and I leaned into my mom’s arms. I felt like a child again as she rubbed my back. A dumb, stupid child who fell fast and hard on her face. We stayed like that for a while as I cried into her shoulder.

“I want you to stay over with your brother and Cadance. I don’t want you to be alone.”

I pulled away as I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. “No, I’ll be fine.”

We were halfway through the ride home before I said, “Actually, I think I want to go with you to Mexicolt.”

Appraisal Theory of Emotion
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The Sunlight Theory

Appraisal Theory of Emotion

I spent the morning moving equipment just like yesterday and the day before and the rest of the week before that.

I made sure everyone drank water. I set up camera rigs. I handed out the shooting scripts. I delivered dailies. I helped the caterers. I sandbagged a lot of things. I made sure everyone knew what they were doing for the day and handed out call sheets. It was numbing, exhausting work.

I did it all because I didn’t want to think.

The desert sun over Mexicolt was unforgiving, and I only noticed how hot it was when I sat down on a rock to take a breather. I fanned out the collar of my shirt and let out a sigh as I felt the slightly colder air against my skin.

As far as I knew, we were about a quarter through the day’s shoot. Today was scheduled to be more interesting than the others, at least. It was the first part of a big action set-piece where Daring Do, with the Sapphire Stone in hand, attempted to evade a seemingly endless amount of pursuers on trucks and motorcycles.

In reality, it was much less exciting than it sounded. The entire shoot was stop-start as we got certain shots done. It was a master class in scheduling, but interesting filmmaking it was not. This one scene alone was scheduled to take two weeks to shoot.

I took a drink from my water bottle and thanked everything that there was still ice inside the thing.

“Hey, Twilight.”

I looked up and noticed Spitfire standing in front of me, holding a plastic gallon of water.

“Hi,” I said back. “How are you holding up so far?”

“Thirsty,” she said with a slight chuckle. She slapped the jug, and it jiggled in response. “And at the same time, I need to pee. You?”

“A little exhausted from all this running around, but I don’t envy your job,” I said, earning a polite laugh from her. While I was busy behind the scenes, she was dangling off the back of a pickup truck, her legs dragging against the ground, and somehow she had to act at the same time. “I have no idea how you’re not a nervous wreck.”

“A little bit of a death wish would do that for you,” she joked. “I don’t know what was more intense: today’s shoot or the time I did a four-fifty splash off a steel cage.”

I didn’t say anything back mostly because I didn’t know what she meant by that.

“That’s wrestling speak for a flip off a really high place,” she explained.

“Oh. Neat.”

“So, how’s your girlfriend doing?” she asked.

My mood immediately soured. “Not good. We had a fight. I think it’s over now.” I didn’t even know why I blurted that out. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the need for sympathy from someone other than my parents.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry for even bringing it up.” Her face winced and she shifted her weight between her legs.

“Don’t,” I said. “You didn’t know.”

“So what happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

I sighed as I stared down at the ground. “She wasn’t who I thought she was. I caught her hiding stuff from me.”

“Heavy,” Spitfire responded. “What kind of stuff was she hiding?”

“Alcohol, cigarettes,” I answered, keeping the more damning things to myself.

Spitfire tilted her head. “That’s it? Sounds like a party…” It hung in heavy silence. “Tough crowd. Sorry.”

I scrunched my face up. “What do you mean, that’s it? She was keeping stuff like that a secret from me. Making up lies and excuses, hiding it all in a box.”

“It sounds to me like she wasn't all too proud of it,” Spitfire said. She sat down next to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

“That doesn’t explain why she shoved everything in my face when I found out,” I said, kicking at the dirt. “It’s like she wanted me to see it all.”

“Think on it some more. Use that brain of yours, girl.” Spitfire paused for a moment. “Here’s a story that’s not too uncommon in my industry: Fake fights come with real pain. That pain is so real, it takes painkillers to function normally. You’re on the road everyday, so resting up at home isn’t an option. Eventually, that someone needs more and more just to be able to get through the day.”

“Sounds like that someone has a problem,” I said.

Spitfire smiled. “And you’d be right. Of course, stuffing your face with pain pills doesn’t look good when you’re supposed to be a hero to children everywhere, so you hide it.”

I thought about it. “Does that happen often?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Spitfire nodded. “It’s why I’m not on cereal boxes anymore.”

My body went rigid. “You?”

“I’m clean now, but it took the help of the people around me.” Spitfire sighed. “The hardest part was looking my ma in the eyes and telling her that her baby wasn’t okay. It takes real strength to admit it—even more to ask for help.”

She dropped her fist against her knee and looked away.

“What I’m saying here is that having a vice doesn’t make you any less of a person,” she said. “Most of them are a terrible, incredibly shitty thing that should be kicked, but we do what we have to to get by.

“I just think you were more concerned that they were doing it instead of thinking about why they turned to it in the first place. Get out of your own head and try to understand theirs.”

“Right,” I said, still trying to process everything. I hung onto the silence.

“Does my ugly secret change what you think of me?” she asked.

“A little,” I said. “But it’s a good change. I know you a bit better now.”

“Does it change the times we hung out together?”

“Not really, no.”

Spitfire smiled and clapped my back. “Then it shouldn’t affect the good times you had with your girlfriend. You seemed really happy the day you brought her on set. It’d suck for all to go to nothing.”

I brought my hand to my cheek, thinking about what she said. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” she said with a cheery grin. “Anyways, I gotta hurry. Seems like everyone but me works hourly.” She patted my shoulder before waddling in her many safety harnesses towards the line of portable toilets.

Once I was alone again, I did what she told me and spent the time just thinking on what happened and why. I caught Sunset smoking. Why did she tell me about the rest?

Get out of your own head.

Then I realized why. It was a cry for help. She wanted me to stand with her and maybe tell her that I accepted her as she was, but I just walked away. I felt a sudden weight on my shoulders. It was pure guilt. I let her down.

She needed a friend. And a girlfriend was still a friend.

My phone vibrated. 11:11 again. I never bothered to remove the alarm. I checked the date. The Spring Fling Dance was tonight, and I felt… mixed. I was still mad at her. She lied, and hid things about herself, and I thought she would trust me. A part of me wanted nothing to do with it, wanted nothing to do with Sunset. But at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to be on that stage as they called out her name. I wanted to be with her.

The realization lifted everything hanging in my chest.

After everything, I still wanted to be with her.

Actually, I wanted to be there for her. And that made the difference.

"You okay, dear? You look troubled."

Looking up, I met eyes with an older woman I didn't recognize. Her hair was graying. I could see the slight wrinkles in the corners of her eyes through her thick, red-rimmed glasses. She sat next to me, removing a large shawl before fanning herself with her hand.

I shrugged like the indecisive teenager I was. "I'm kind of regretting coming out here."

“Same here.” The woman nodded. “Seems they couldn’t find a colder desert like I’d asked,” she added dryly.

Given my mother’s stories of her standoffish sense of humor and my father’s accounts of unreasonable demands, there was only one person who this could have been. “You’re A.K. Yearling.”

“The one and only.” The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. Just slightly. “I take it you're Vel’s girl. You look just like her.”

I nodded, my head whipping up and down. “Y-yeah! Nice to meet you.”

“We’ve met before,” she snapped back matter-of-factly. “Though, I suppose you were much too young to remember it.”

“I guess so,” I said, not really knowing how to respond. I decided to just steer the conversation somewhere else. “So, what do you think about the movie so far? It must be great seeing your words come to life.”

“Terrible.” Yearling let out a rude snerk. “Spitfire’s much too tall to play Daring, the Sapphire Stone’s not the right shade of blue, and the costume just isn’t right. It’s not at all like I had envisioned it.”

I didn’t know why, but I felt the need to get defensive. My parents had been stressing about it for years, and I couldn’t just sit there and let her bad mouth it. “But adjustments have to be made. Books and movies are completely different mediums. You can’t healthily expect things to always be the way you imagined…”

I trailed off.

Now Yearling had a wide grin. “I suppose we all have things to learn, don’t we?”

“I guess so.” At this point, I realized that Yearling and my mother had only sharpened their wit against each other as roommates all those years. “I take it you’ve been talking to my mom.”

Yearling nodded. “Yes I have. We’ve always been ones for gossip. Though, all she’s told me now is that you and your girlfriend had a falling out. She won’t tell me anything else, so I’m here for the source. Forgive me for eavesdropping just now.”

I let out a pained chuckle. “We’re just not in a good spot right now. She’s not the person I fell in love with. Or at least, not the person I thought she was.”

“Then who did you think she was?”

“I don’t know,” I said, staring down at the ground. “Someone better than me. Someone…”

“Perfect?”

“I guess…” I took a deep breath, knowing what happened. “I think… I fell with the idea of her.” It hurt to say, but I messed up, and I had to admit it.

“Young love,” Yearling said after a quick scoff. “A topic I never personally cared about, but your mother loved to write about it. She has this way of words that’s just—”

“Romantic? Idealistic?”

“Naive,” Yearling corrected. “Which explains a lot, young lady. Did you really let Vel embarrass you in front your date?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Though, I think it was supposed to be endearing.”

Yearling clicked her tongue. “You watch too many movies. That was a cliche in all of them when your parents were first dating.” She trailed off for a moment as if she’d just returned to those times. “You know, I blame your father. I just knew he’d steal your mother away from novels with his newfangled moving pictures.”

“Moving pictures?”

“It’s a joke, dear,” Yearling clarified. “I’m not that old.”

I let out a belated giggle. She seemed satisfied. There was a pause in the conversation as Yearling took a drink of water.

“See, if this was one of those movies, your girl would have driven here in a big gesture just to see you and wrap it up in under an hour and a half.” She placed the water down at her side. “But this is life. You have to live every minute on your own. Though, a book wouldn’t be as pressed for time. You can have a long elaborate sequence, pages and pages long, where—”

“I don’t see how this is helping.”

Yearling pursed her lips and leaned in closer to me. “Well, since subtext isn’t working, let me spell it out for you. There’s two choices. Sit here and mope because the pedestal you put her on is broken, or you can go to her now and meet her on her level, warts and all, and help her pick up the pieces and work it out. Y'know, like adults.”

“But she’s back in Canterlot.”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s not too late if you go to her now. You’re young, and you’re in love. It’s supposed to be stupid and messy.” She waved her hand around dismissively. “Make mistakes, and make every grand gesture before you get too old for that nonsense.”

I thought about it some more. She was right. I came here to hide and wish none of this never happened. Sunset was not coming to fix a problem I created.

I stood up and took a deep breath. “I need to make this right.”

“Atta girl,” Yearling hummed.

I turned to face Yearling. “Why did you help me?”

She smiled. “There’s this light. I saw it in your mother’s eyes, and I see it in yours. The last thing I wanted was to see it go out, even if they were never meant for me.”

I paused for a moment. She isn’t talking about me, is she?

Without a word, I ran off, ready to make things right.

Then I ran right back to Yearling. “S-sorry! I forgot to say thanks! Is there any way I can repay you?”

Yearling chuckled. “Get your mother to start writing novels again. I’m getting tired of rereading.” She paused for a moment, a smile creeping up on her face. “Or better yet, give it some time and write your own.”

I nodded and this time ran off without a word.

—☀—

I knew how to make things right. I’m decided to surprise her. With a plane ticket booked to Canterlot in the next hour, I should be able to reach CHS by the pageant winner ceremony at eight.

When they call her name, I’ll be right there to hand her the crown.

Within minutes, I was packed. Just the essentials for a carry on. I made use of my dad’s trailer office, printing out the plane ticket. Then I was out the door, running through the bustling set.

All I needed was a ride to the airport, which turned out to be a bigger problem than expected.

My parents were too busy. The whole production revolved around them, and they couldn’t exactly leave. I found myself running all around the set in search of a ride.

Then, my saving grace came from the door to a porta-potty swinging open and hitting my face. I fell to the ground, landing on my back. When I looked up, I found Spitfire standing over me.

“Crap, kid, you okay?” she asked, bending down and extending a hand out. I took it, letter her help me up.

“Y-yeah,” I said hurriedly, suddenly out of breath. “Need… Airport… Ride…”

“Breathe, kid,” Spitfire instructed. I did my best to comply. I fumbled for the inhaler in my bag and took a quick hit. “Now what’s wrong?”

I tried my best to explain what was going on. “I need a ride to the airport, but I can’t find someone to take me.”

Spitfire smiled. “All you gotta do is ask.”

“Seriously, you’d do that?”

She nodded. “I’ve been itching to get into some kind of trouble.” She gestured behind her, towards the stunt jeep that had been dragging her earlier in the shoot. “I even know just the ride.”

She raced off to it, and I chased behind.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

It was surprisingly easy to hotwire a car.

I found that out by looking it up on my phone. However, it was easier, but ultimately less exciting to use the keys already in the ignition. Still, the adrenaline rush of stealing a jeep from the set was incomparable to anything else I’ve done, except maybe asking Sunset to be my girlfriend.

I guess she was a bad influence after all.

Spitfire drove the car off set, much to the screaming and yelling of all the producers and crew who chased after the speeding vehicle. Within seconds we were on the dirt roads leading into the nearby city. The wind whipped at my hair, and I couldn’t help but let out a yell of pure joy. I was going home. But more importantly, I was going to be with Sunset.

Spitfire sped the entire way down until we hit the outskirts of Mexicolt City. The last thing we needed was to be arrested and sent to a Mexicoltan prison. However, as the car turned down towards the major road leading to the airport, we ran into a bit of a roadblock.

In fact, it was a literal roadblock. As it turned out, there was a Spring Equinox festival going on today.

“No bueno,” Spitfire groaned, looking at the road full of people, floats, and markets. “What now?” She brought the jeep to the side of the road and slammed her head against the steering wheel.

I looked around. There was traffic in all directions. There was no way we were getting out in a timely manner with the car. I checked my phone. My flight was coming up fast.

We were stuck. Until a thought came into my mind.

“What would Daring do?”

Spitfire looked up. “Book four, Curse of the Lycanthrope. Chapter Eight.”

“The Scramble!” I hopped off the jeep and grabbed my duffel bag from the back. “Daring, with the Werewolf’s Amulet, escapes chase from Dr. Caballero by passing through a local festival. Her seaplane waits at the airport on the other side of the city.”

Spitfire tipped her hat. “Well, you have Daring herself to get you across. I always wanted to be a method actor.”

Without hesitating, Spitfire grabbed my arm, and we ran into the thick of the festival.

Surprisingly, compared to most of the costumed festival goers, who were dressed in bright feathers and masks, we were mostly inconspicuous. We ran as fast as we could, pushing past concerts, cutting through dance squad performances.

We hopped onto a parade float adorned in spring flowers to cut through the crowds some more. I choked on a cloud of pollen. The band on stage stopped playing, drawing more attention to ourselves. Spitfire only tipped her hat to them before pulling me off the other side of the float with her.

This, obviously, caught the attention of a few security guards. The chase was on. Spitfire led the charge, ducking through alleys. Compared to movies in general, the guards were much less motivated to catch us. Spitfire noticed this and took the initiative as she grabbed a fruit cart and used it to block the street. Piles of oranges, mangoes, and apples hit the ground, tripping up those on our tail.

“It actually worked!” Spitfire remarked. I turned around to watch the security guards struggling to push it out of the way without knocking everything over while the owner of the cart yelled at them.

There was another guard ahead of us. Spitfire grabbed my arm and ducked into the nearest shop. It was a bakery. The regular patrons looked at us as we ducked down from the windows. The guards ran by the shop, not knowing where we went.

It was only then when I noticed how ridiculous we looked. Apparently, during our run, we were bombarded with colored smoke powder, silly string, and feathers from the costumes. I hadn’t noticed because I was having too much fun running towards my problems.

The airport was in sight. I was almost there. My lungs burned, and my legs tightened, but I kept running. Thankfully we were uncontested as the two of us stopped at the airport’s entrance. I doubled over, taking in all the precious air I could get while I heard Spitfire laugh. I took a deep puff from my inhaler.

“You look ridiculous,” Spitfire said.

“You do, too.”

I grabbed an old t-shirt from my bag and did my best to wipe myself off. It got most of the string and feathers off, but the powder was stuck to my skin. As long as they let me on the plane, I didn’t care.

We ran inside, stopping at the gate, gasping for breath and covered in what I assumed whatever filled Pinkie’s party cannons.

“The two o'clock flight to Canterlot,” I said to the counter. “Can I board?”

The woman typed a bit at the keyboard. “Flight 314 departed fifteen minutes ago.”

My heart sank. I checked my watch. She was right. For once, in the millions of years of human evolution and a hundred or so years in aviation innovation, a plane departed on time.

Just my luck.

Spitfire rubbed my shoulder. “When’s the next flight to Canterlot?”

The woman typed at her computer. “Tomorrow morning at ten. All the others are booked.”

“Not good enough,” I muttered under my breath. “I need to be there by tonight.”

“It’s alright, kid,” Spitfire reassured, squeezing my shoulder. “We’ll get you there tomorrow.”

I pushed her off me. “The Spring Fling’s tonight. I have to be there with her. For her.”

I stormed out of the airport. Spitfire didn’t follow me. I felt bad for lashing out at her. She did everything she could, and I just yelled at her for not getting me there faster. I sat at the curb and held my head in my hands. After a while, Spitfire joined me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“So, you missed out,” she said. “That’s just one night. I can assure you the moon will come up again.”

“But it’s the Spring Fling,” I said childishly.

“And?”

“We’re seniors. There won’t be another one,” I explained.

Spitfire chuckled. “Just because your school does it once a year doesn’t mean you can’t take your girlfriend out for a night of dancing. As much as it sucks to say, perfect endings are hard to come by.”

“But I can make one.”

I stood up and scanned my surroundings. Then I checked my phone, searching around for any sign of hope. I found one. And thanks to my many contingency plans, I did something I always envisioned myself doing:

I bought a bus ticket.

Author's Note

"Appraisal theory of emotion proposes that emotions or emotional components are caused and differentiated by an appraisal of the stimulus as mis/matching with goals and expectations, as easy/difficult to control, and as caused by others, themselves or impersonal circumstances." [x]

The Sunlight Theory
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The Sunlight Theory

When stuck on a coach bus for nearly an entire day, you have time to think whether you want to or not. There was only enough times you can listen to "Mrs. Robinson" on loop before it got tired. Coo coo cachoo.

On the hours and hours of the trip, I had to come up with something. I needed the perfect plan to patch things up with Sunset. I needed to make my happy ending.

I had a few phone calls to make, but it would all be worth it if I could pull it off.

I let out an overjoyed squeal as a single bar appeared at the top of the phone. I had earned a few awkward looks from my fellow sardines in the can, but I ignored them. What mattered was that I got into contact with everyone that propped me up during my experiments with love.

I dialed Lemon Zest first.

“Yo, Twilight, what’s up?” Lemon said, bright hum and everything.

“I need your help,” I said, urgency in my voice. “I’m in Mexicolt, and—”

“Say no more,” Lemon interrupted. “My big sis was arrested in Cantercun on spring break last yea—”

“No, it’s not that!” I shot back, cutting her off. “I just need you and the rest of the girls to do something for me.”

Lemon hummed. “Yeah, sure, anything? What’cha need, girl?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but remember that night we snuck around Crystal Prep?”

—☀—

“Hey, Rarity?”

“Oh, Twilight!” she practically gasped into the speaker. “Are you okay, dear? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since you left. Sunset was just absolutely devastated when we told her you ran away to Mexicolt.”

I winced, staring out the window. The only thing I found was the endless expanse of desert on the other side. “Oh, jeez. Tell her—actually, don’t tell her anything yet. I don’t know.”

“You can’t just ghost her like that,” Rarity countered, frustration in her voice. “In case you forgot, dear, she’s my friend, too.”

“I know.” I sighed into the speaker. “Listen, I’m coming home, like, right now. I just want it to be a surprise.”

I could hear the excitement jump back in Rarity’s voice. “Are you going to be able to make it in time for the Spring Fling?”

I grimaced. “No. The bus I’m on won’t arrive until after midnight.”

Rarity sighed. “Well, I suppose everything can’t just wrap itself up neatly.”

“No, it won’t,” I said curtly. “But that’s not stopping me.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I think Sunset’s going to want you here for the Spring Fling princess crowning,” Rarity responded. I gritted my teeth, just realizing I was going to miss that as well. “It means a lot to her.”

“Just be there for her when it happens,” I said, shifting in my seat. “If she asks about me… tell her I just need some time to think. I want to surprise her when I get back.”

“…Okay, dear, but—”

“And one last thing,” I said, clutching the phone against my cheek.

“Yes?” she asked in a hum.

I paused for a moment. “Get the other Rainbooms. I have a gig for them.”

—☀—

After carefully detailing my plan to Rarity, I called Pinkie Pie. I should have held the phone away from my ear.

“Twilight!” Pinkie screamed into the speaker. “I was worried you’d never come back after you ghosted Sunset! I thought that you would be in a small farm raising alpacas!”

I chuckled politely and fought the urge to tell her alpacas aren’t native to Mexicolt. “I’m fine, Pinkie. I just needed time away from— well, everything.”

“I feel that, girl,” she responded, chipper as always. “Sometimes, I just wanna climb into my party cannon and fire myself off in a random direction. Let the wind carry me and the confetti anywhere.”

“That’s almost profound, Pinkie."

“Thanks!”

Shaking my head, I focused as to why I called her in the first place. “Listen, Pinkie, I need a favor.”

“Oki-doki, what is it?”

—☀—

I looked down at my phone and winced at the missed calls from my mom, dad, my brother, Cadance, and even my friends. Sending a quick few texts to confirm I hadn’t been left to die in the desert somewhere only seemed to make the calls even more frequent. I shut off my phone and tried not to think about how much trouble I was in after this was all over.

The bus stopped to refuel in a small town just past the Mexicolt border. I was almost home. One more leg of a few hours, and I would be there at around twelve thirty in the morning. I took a look at my phone. It was five after six, and I had over twenty missed calls. By now, the Spring Fling was officially on inside the CHS gym.

I imagined arriving just in time to catch Sunset at the entrance to Canterlot High. If I had made the flight, I would have made it. I’d be jumping out the bus and leaping into her arms, breathless but happy.

Instead, I was in a desert town, waiting for a bus to fuel up.

At this moment in time, I was hundreds of miles away from Canterlot, but I was hundreds of miles closer than when I started the day.

I swiped away all the missed calls and texts but found myself looking at a string of messages from Rainbow Dash. It was a picture of me and Spitfire from our earlier rush through Mexicolt City with a message under it that read, “EXPLAIN.”

I shut my phone off again.

In the distance, the sun began to fall over the horizon. Orange shades rose up from the ground in the distance, meeting the dark purple of the sky.

Sunset, Twilight.

Everything was still, save for the chatter of the other riders and the hum of the engine. I watched the wind blow at a row of desert trees. Despite how much the plant bent, it never broke, resilient to whatever nature threw at it. An arid environment nor the desert winds could snap its resolve.

Then my gaze fell on a single cactus, a lonely looking barrel that sat alone off the side of the road. Its harsh exterior of spikes was there only to protect the precious water it held inside. At the top of the cactus grew a single flower, bright red—growing strong despite the dry environment.

The roar of the bus coming back to life cut me off from my thoughts, and we were heading northwest.

I was chasing sunsets.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

It was past midnight by the time the bus arrived in Canterlot. Once I got past the city limits, I texted Cadance to pick me up at the bus station. The battery was low, so I shut my phone off, which spared me from any potential lectures.

I had never expected my phone to be this useful, especially during that day a few months back when my Crystal Prep friends badgered me to get one. I made a mental note to thank them because none of this would happen without them. I couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly things changed.

I stepped off the bus, only to get immediately tackled by Cadance.

“Oh, thank goddess you're safe!” she cried, bringing me in for a tight hug. “What the heck were you thinking just hopping on a bus from a different country like that!?”

“I wasn’t,” I answered. “For once, I’m happy I didn’t think.”

Cadance perp-walked me to her car, and I shuffled into the back after noticing a familiar face in the driver’s seat.

“Someone’s in trouble,” teased my brother, stretching out the last word childishly. The situation must have been bad if it was enough to get him off from work. I simply just ignored him and plugged my phone into the car’s charger. “I was worried, too, you know.” His tone didn’t make it feel like a lecture, which I appreciated. “You’re supposed to be the good one.”

The good one. Those were the same expectations I ran from at Crystal Prep. They were the same ones I forced on Sunset.

“Your parents aren’t happy, Twilight,” Cadance said, using her ‘Dean Cadenza’ voice. “Just call them and tell them you’re safe.”

“Okay,” I said with a little nod. I stared at my phone, dreading the last phone call of the night I had to make. With a deep breath, I called my dad. He was always a bit softer with me. I stared out the window as the phone rang.

“Nice try,” said my mother from my dad’s phone. Shining laughed, and Cadance smacked his shoulder. “You’re grounded until you deliver me grandkids. Until my grandkids have grandkids!”

“Yeah, I thought so.” There was something oddly freeing about being in trouble. “Though, to be fair, I’m gay.”

“Exactly,” was her response. She always knew just what to say. “Now tell me, who gave you the bright idea to steal a stunt car, and my leading actress off my set just to bum a ride, so you can hop on the first bus home? I’m not above firing your father. And if it was Spitfire, I’m getting a new Daring right—”

“Yearling did, Mom.”

“Of course she did!” She let out a frustrated grunt. “The one person on this set I can’t replace.”

Cadance put her hand on my shoulder, lending silent support.

“Get some sleep, Mom,” I said. “You can yell at me in the morning.”

She sighed, and I felt the tension drain from her. “I was scared, Twilight.” Her voice warbled. “Don’t worry me like that, and promise me not to ever do anything that stupid again.”

“I won’t.” That was a complete lie. “Night, Mom.” I had one big dumb stupid rebellious teenager thing left to get out of my system. I looked to Cadance and Shining, waiting a minute or two before asking: “Can you drive me to CHS?”

“At this hour?” asked Dean Cadenza. She shook her head. “Absolutely not, Twilight. You’ve tempted fate enough already. You’re getting into trouble, sneaking out at night. What could possibly make the brightest girl I know be such a mess sometimes?”

Shining chuckled. “I think that’s a question Cadance knows the answer to, not the Dean.”

She looked at him with a glare that was more confused than annoyed. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought you’d understand more than anyone, Counselor Matchmaker.” Shining smiled, the same boyish grin that won her over every time. “She’s in love.”

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

I tried to convince Shining and Cadance that it was okay to just drop me off and go, but they insisted on parking just up the street and watching in case anything happened, which, after considering my behavior these past few months, wasn’t totally uncalled for.

I walked down the Canterlot High sidewalk until I was right in front of the Wondercolt statue. I took a seat in front of it and pulled out my phone. This time, I didn’t overthink what I was going to say.

-I’m sorry. Can I see you?

My hands shook as I sent it. I came all this way, so I had to commit to it. I wanted to, but that didn’t make the nerves go away.

-I’m at CHS right now. I want to make things right with you.

I watched the little text dots for what felt like hours. My chest burned, and I had to force myself to breathe. Please.

Then the dots stopped. My body felt hollow, and I stuffed my phone into my pocket and took a deep breath. I told myself that she was just having trouble responding. But as the minutes went on, dread began to set in. I screwed up. There was no getting around that. She had the right to be upset.

I could already tell that Shining and Cadance were getting a little antsy. I looked at my phone again. Still no message. I decided to give her a few more minutes.

Deep breaths. Don’t think. I closed my eyes, mostly to try to snuff out the tears forming.

By the time I was sure she wasn’t coming, I saw a text from Rarity.

-Sunset’s with me
-We’re on our way.

I nodded, hugging the phone close to me, and I was okay to wait however long it took. Then I tried to get my brother to drive off by letting him know I had a ride home with Rarity.

They waited as I did, and didn’t seem content to leave until Rarity pulled in in front of the school in her mom’s minivan. She was the first to get out, and I didn’t blame Sunset for not jumping out to see me.

Rarity rushed to me, and I knew I deserved whatever she told me.

“How is she?” I asked, a bit ashamed, but I needed to feel that.

“You’re lucky she had me and the girls with her tonight.” Her arms were crossed, and she glanced back at Sunset in her car. “I know you did what was right for you, but that affects her, too.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “Thanks for being there for her. I’m grateful to have you and the girls. And thank you for helping set this up. I hope I didn’t ask too much from you.”

“We love you both,” she said, letting it sit there. “There isn’t anything we won’t do.” She looked back to Sunset for a moment, just as I was noticing she’s been in there for a while. “Should I leave you two alone?”

“Yeah, I’ve held it off long enough.”

Rarity squeezed my arm as she began to step past me. “I’ll be waiting for you inside.”

I nodded, and took in a breath as I stepped to the car, where Sunset had waited.

It was her. She seemed to almost hesitate leaving the car, but she stepped out anyway. It was her. Her hair, once perfectly styled for the Spring Fling in an intricate weaving, had loosened over the night. She had thrown on her jacket over her dress, but I still caught a glimpse at the sash around her. She won, and I was glad for her.

It was still her.

I came all this way—through deserts, parades, across countries— and I didn’t know what to say.

Sunset spoke first. “Twilight, I—”

“Shh,” I hummed. “Let’s do something stupid. Right now. We can talk about it soon. I just want to be with you.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t confident in her answer, and that was okay.

I took her hand and led her across the campus. An eerie silence surrounded the school, but I didn’t care. No one would bother us here. I rushed up to the steps of the school and simply pulled the door open. I didn’t care if Cadance and my brother were still watching.

“How did you?”

“I called some friends for a favor,” I said, my shoulders relaxing. Thankfully, my Crystal Prep friends delivered in unlocking the school and disabling the alarms. Part one of the plan went off without a hitch.

I led Sunset down the quiet halls. The school was creepier at night. It felt like something would jump out from around the corner at any moment. And the hallway with the perpetually broken lights looked even darker somehow. However, it was the same school as always, which made it easier to navigate with just my phone’s flashlight.

Eventually, we reached the entrance to the gym.

“Twilight,” she called. “Why are we here?”

“I rode on a bus for hours, so I could get my dance with you,” I answered, pushing open the door. “I’m getting my dance.”

I took her hand, and we walked inside. It was dark, and I felt my legs trudge through the leftover streamers and confetti from the Spring Fling.

We were a few steps into the gym before a spotlight centered on us both. Shielding my eyes for a moment, I was able to make out Indigo Zap manning the spotlight. She gave me an excited pair of thumbs up.

Right after, the entire room lit up. I turned to the door and caught Lemon Zest, leaning against the wall, the gym’s light switch to her left. And on her right, draped on her arm—to my surprise—was Sunny Flare, her own hand locked with Lemon’s.

“Sugarcoat and Sour Sweet are on lookout, Twi. You’ve got this place ’til five, then we gotta dip,” Lemon said, completely not acknowledging her holding Sunny’s hand.

I grinned at them. “How’d this happen?”

“I asked!” Sunny said, beaming.

I giggled at the response , then led Sunset to the center of the gym, the spotlight following us all the way.

The stage sat on the other side of the gym, which had been set up for the Spring Fling earlier in the night. Rarity and the rest of the Rainbooms were there, on their instruments and ready to play.

Then a dreamy chord resonated through the room.

Rarity had written one song for the Rainbooms. It sat in the back of their songbook, purposefully ignored by Rainbow Dash, who insisted on sticking to rock. I simply just gave them an excuse to play it, one that Rainbow couldn’t say no to.

Pinkie, showing some restraint, slowly dragged her hand across the wind chimes, filling the room with an airy sound.

Finally free from her keytar, Rarity sat at a real piano, playing a simple, listless melody. She sang into the microphone in a way that sounded like she was whispering into your ear. And she sang it just for us.

“Thank you for this,” Sunset said into the nape of my neck.

I held Sunset in my arms as we slowly danced to the song. One moment felt like forever, and I almost wanted it to go on, but life never gives you that option to just end moments cleanly. Eventually, we had to break away, and the song had to end.

•·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·☀·.·´·.·•·.·´·.·•

Sunset and I sat at the steps leading into CHS. The sky had taken on a rosy color as the morning slowly came around. Streaks of light passed through the cracks of buildings. The party had ended, and the rest of the girls went home. It was just the two of us sitting there.

"I used to get up just before the sun would rise.” Sunset’s voice was soft.

I looked over to her. "Hmm?"

“Back when I was a filly, I would wake up and race to the castle's balcony every morning, just so I could watch Princess Celestia raise the sun," she continued. A ray of sun fell across her cheeks. She squinted, her eyes tearing up before she blinked it away. "The way the morning light shined through her mane was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

I sat there, deciding to just stay quiet and listen.

"After bringing light to millions of ponies across the world, her next order of business was to brush my mane—since I’d always forget to do it on my rush to see her.” Sunset forced a laugh. “I never actually forgot. I think she knew that, too."

I couldn't help but laugh.

“That’s the first story you shared with me about your past,” I said, mostly noting it to myself. “It’s cute.”

Sunset hugged her knees. “I… haven’t been too honest about that time in my life. It wasn’t right to keep avoiding it like it didn’t happen, but I thought if I could learn from it and be a better person, I could move on.”

I nodded. “I haven’t been right to you, either.” I slowly swiped my hand against the steps and felt the cool stone against my palm. “I shouldn’t have forced you talk about it, and I was wrong to pry. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to tell me or hide it. Whatever happened before I met you, you don’t have to tell me.”

I set my hand on hers, and she accepted it.

“Thank you.” Sunset seemed to drop her shoulders.

I held her hand for a moment and bit my cheek as I knew where the conversation had to go next. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that, the night of the pageant. I freaked out and said some really hurtful things, and I’m sorry. You deserved better.” Sunset kept quiet, and I continued.

“It’s just, coming from Crystal Prep, they hold you to such a high standard. And I transferred out, and I thought I left that behind, but this last week, I realized that I was still holding myself and everything around me to those standards. Especially you. It wasn’t fair to you at all.”

It felt good to say. In fact, it felt so good to say aloud that I wasn’t sure if it made any sense. “I just have a lot to unlearn about how judgmental I am.”

Sunset kneaded her thumb across my hand. “I get it. I’m not too proud of that night either.”

“I should have been here earlier tonight, too. I should’ve been the first one there to congratulate you for winning the Spring Fling. And I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

She seemed to finally remember that she still had the Spring Fling Princess sash on under her jacket. She picked at the little flowers strung across the lining. “You know, this is the first time I actually felt like I won any of these things.”

“Really, in all four years?” My tone was curious, but this time I didn’t need to know more.

“Really. You already know this, but I wasn’t a good person before you met me.” Sunset trailed off, and I could hear the shakiness in her voice.

"Sunset, you don't have t—"

"I want to." She put on a smile for me but it was still unsure. “I want to. It’s still a part of me that I have to accept.”

I nodded.

“There was a time where everyone at CHS was afraid of me. I was entitled, spiteful, cruel.” She winced and rubbed at her arm. “It actually lasted longer than I’d like to think about. I won because people were afraid of what I’d do if I didn’t.”

Everything was starting to make a little more sense now. “Even by your first year here?”

“That was worse.” Sunset let out a pained chuckle as she squeezed my hand. “Everyone just pitied the little homeless girl.”

“Right,” I said, remembering the moment she let it that fact about herself slip. “That must have been a hard time for you.”

“It only got worse.” She nodded. “Even I didn’t feel like I earned it then. One of the seniors that lost to me let me know why I won, and I got so upset that I hit her. Then the whole school found out, and I just leaned into it. It’s a lot easier to get what you need if they’re scared of you. Food, money, cigarettes.

“But this year was different.” Her voice was a bit grainy, but hopeful. “They chose me.” I could feel in her voice how much it meant to her, and I sank a bit for having missed it. I could be here for her now, at least.

“And you deserve it,” I said, looking her in the eye. “I still wish I was here for you. But I’m glad the school finally saw the person I was lucky to always have known.”

“I don’t think I even wanted to do the Fling, but I think I needed it,” she said.

The conversation lulled, and I figured we just sat in our thoughts for a moment. Just processing it all. I felt like I was beginning to understand her. The real her.

Sunset chuckled. “I should have said no.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She laughed again. “Back at the hospital, when I saw just how far you went in getting me to ask you out. Everything told me to say no, and I wanted to say no, and I probably should have said no and that it was wrong and weird and kind of creepy of you for stalking me like that.”

I winced. “You did?”

“Yeah…” She stared away, down the steps and up the path leading to the street. “Maybe I was just lonely at the time, but I realized you were the only person that looked at me like that.” She slumped a little. “Not exactly the healthiest mindset to take into a relationship.”

“You’re right.” It hurt, but she was right. And I needed to work on that obsessive side of me, too.

“You were the only one at CHS who didn’t know what I used to be. And when you looked at me, I could tell that you saw someone better, and I wanted to be that." She ran her hand through her hair. "That project of yours didn't help. I’m not that Sunset. And I probably won’t be. I just want you to know that I’m trying, Twilight.”

I took in her answer for a moment, and I remembered something she said when we last saw each other. “That’s okay. It took me too long to realize this, but maybe it only seems like you get worse the further back you go because you’re getting better.”

She stared back at me, and I could see a hint of a smile. “All this time, I was scared of what you'd think when you found out who I was and that you’d forget who I am now.“

Scared of me?I never thought about it that way.

Sunset looked down at her boots. All the mystique behind her was gone. And in that moment, I didn't see the angel that saved me at the Friendship Games. I didn't even see the unreachable mystery girl that was full of the confidence I never had.

I saw Sunset Shimmer, someone flawed, someone who didn't want to be alone anymore. Someone who was getting better everyday.

I still loved her.

“You were my fresh start,” she said into her arms.

I took her hand. “I still am.”

She looked up at me. Her eyes were watering, and I saw the sun in them.

“I love you, Sunset.” I let it hang there. Full stop. “And when I’m holding onto you when we drive through town, it feels like the safest place in the world—even though it’s clearly not.”

Sunset chuckled.

I leaned into her. “I want you to feel that way around me. If I was kinder to you, you would have. But now, I just want to be here for you. Girlfriend, friend, it doesn’t matter. I’m just excited to see the person you’re becoming.” I felt my chest squeeze tight. “And knowing what we know now, do you… maybe want to give it another chance?”

Sunset blinked through the tears. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

We spent the rest of the morning watching the sunrise. I put my arm around her, and we just enjoyed the silence. The city eventually sprang to life around us as the new day bloomed. Not too long after that, cars and people were passing by. It was about time we got up, too.

I stood up, brushed off my skirt, and held my hand out. “Come on. We should get going.”

She took it, and I helped her stand. “Where are we heading?”

“Sugarcube Corner should be opening soon,” I answered, leading the way. “We can get some coffee.”

Author's Note

Art by ScruffyTurtles, commissioned by me. Thank you for waiting for me all these years.