Her Collar, Her Love

Rarity was feeling like a pretty little disaster.

Her new store in Manehattan was financially in the red. It was only thanks to the success of Canterlot Boutique and Canterlot Carousel that its doors remained open. Was it because she had yet to find an adequate full-time manager? Possibly the location? Perhaps she had simply chosen a bad spot?

"These clothes are so tacky!" a young mare said to her friends as they trotted across the display floor.

“Yeah. They aren’t even good enough for a fire,” one of the mare’s companion’s snickered. This sent them tittering all the way out the exit. The bell tingled tauntingly as they slammed the door behind them.

Rarity sputtered, one hoof frozen against a ponnequin's flank as she tried to adjust its shorts. "Well, I never!" she finally managed to huff.

The fashionista fought with the clothes on the ponnequin for another five minutes before snarling and knocking the thing over in a brutal hind kick. She glared down at it, a single lock of her mane falling out of place over the searing gaze of her azure eyes before her lip pouted and she sat hard on her haunch. The tears came, and she let them, for the store was empty, and with the sun setting, it was unlikely anyone would enter looking for her brand of haute couture. After all, that had been the case for months.

I simply do not understand, Rarity thought miserably as she gazed around her store. In what way have I failed? My work is appreciated everywhere else but here! How can that be?

But she had an idea; a grim old shadow of an idea. It circled around her like a crocodile, its reptilian eyes fixed on her as she sat gloomily on a spit of sand.

Manehattan, simply put, was not Ponyville or Canterlot. It was true that it took a full day to travel from her hometown to the kingdom’s capital, but geographically speaking, the smaller town was still close enough to be influenced by the trends of the illustrious city. In a nutshell: Ponyville liked whatever Canterlot liked. Rarity was popular in Canterlot. Nevermind her service to the kingdom and her familiarity with the princesses; she’d carefully networked with the nobles of the capital for years. It was hubris, perhaps, for her to assume that just because she did well in one region of the kingdom, she’d do well everywhere.

At this rate, my new store will drive down my profits across my other businesses. Should I close this shop and move on? Rarity’s ears drooped as more tears matted her white coat. I know now that it was vainglorious of me to expect success automatically… I only wish I could earn a name for myself here!

Just as the entrance bell jingled, the fashionista stomped a hoof and said fiercely, “No! I won’t give up! I’ll show these Manehattanites that Rarity can make it anywhere! She is not a one trick pony!”

“That’s the spirit,” a deep voice chuckled.

Rarity jerked, her eyes snapping wide as she spun around to face the new speaker. If possible, her gaze was forced wider yet as she recognized her visitor. She pointed a shaking hoof at the tall stallion that stood before her. “You're, y-you're--!”

“Dark Mask,” the earth pony greeted with a full, bright smile. Dark Mask had a black coat with creamy white splashes on his hindquarters and his head, where a streak of inky hue laid itself across his soulful brown eyes. On his lean flank, a black mask with a red ribbon could be seen. He flicked back his deep brown mane and sat back. The stallion gazed around the shop. “I’ve been meaning to come here sooner. I tour around a lot, but I live in Manehattan. I was very excited to hear you were opening a boutique here!”

Rarity could feel her body flush beneath her white coat. “You were excited? That I was coming here?”

Dark Mask chuckled and nodded his head. He had a long, slim face, his shoulders and hips wide, but his barrel and legs svelte. The ideal physique of a runway model, one that had made him among the most famous. Rarity had been a fan for about as long as she could remember. To hear this stallion say he had been looking forward to her new store…?

The unicorn bowed her head. “I am very honored that you would say such things, Mr. Mask, but I am afraid my store will disappoint you-- as it has so many others.”

Rarity stiffened lightly when the stallion’s hoof touched just under her chin and met her gaze with his own. He smiled gently. “I wouldn’t say that, my lady.” He stepped back with an air of deference and gestured around them. “I have admired your work even before your designs for the Sapphire Shores tour. You have a great deal of talent. You just haven’t tapped into the local taste yet.”

“The local taste?” Rarity dabbed carefully at her eyes with the back of a hoof, hoping to clear away the runny mascara. “Is there some new trend of which I am unaware?”

Dark Mask’s smile turned rueful. “It’s not new… But it does sell rather well. Especially in this city.”

Rarity bit her lip and shuffled her front hooves, forcing a gracious smile. “I don’t suppose I could ask your assistance in discovering this local taste?”

The stallion looked at her, his ears perking high and his eyes sparkling with interest of his own. “Actually, that was part of the reason I was so excited to have you open up a shop in my hometown. You see, I have a business proposition for you…”