The soft, electrical hum of one of the shop's machines hummed in the background, only interrupted by the occasional clinging of metal as the barista sorted through dishes. Adagio stared down into her cup of coffee and gave it a gentle, lazy swirl with a stirring stick. Her eyes traced off of her table in the corner of the shop to look at the rest of the dim, empty area. Rows of neatly-placed chairs across the unoccupied tables lined up across the tiny store like dominoes, waiting for another soul to come along and disturb the organization. It was a familiar sight for Adagio, sitting in her little nook by the window where she could look out into the darkness and just barely make out the fence for the park on the other side of the street. This was the one place she could usually find some peace on these sleepless nights. On occasion, the moonlight might give her a glimpse of the rest of the greenery beyond, but tonight wasn't one of those nights.
A familiar sting of lethargy nipped at her eyes, creating the unfortunate dark circles that marred her otherwise immaculate face. Adagio's entire body ached as she tried to settle around in her chair to find some position that would finally just let her think away from the soreness. It never really went away, even after months of gritting her teeth and bearing the menial fast-food job at Canterlot's trashiest restaurant that her sisters endured just to not be homeless. Adagio tapped her phone sitting on the table next to her. 4:37 AM lit up against the black background and the little alarm symbol stood silently underneath it, reminding her she had another three hours until she had to return to that life.
Adagio gripped her mug with both hands, relishing in the momentary warmth it radiated into her. Despite the jeans and sweater adorning her figure, the cold always seemed to find a way through as she waited for the sun to rise. The warmth of a hot cup of coffee was a momentary respite from her own shivering; the savory aroma of the coffee sparked a little bit of life into her tired for as she raised it up to her mouth. The sudden heat against her face and pouring down her throat dragged her focus away from the fatigue stiffening her body and clouding her brain, finally letting her mind think. The relief was well worth the last few coins she managed to fish out of her purse.
A somber sigh left Adagio's lips at the sudden clarity. She couldn't decide whether being distracted by the stress of her insomnia was a blessing or a curse anymore. Adagio brought a hand up to her neck, disappointment washing over her at the absence of the once-familiar gem hanging there. It was in her eyes right before she left the apartment—the blank, lifeless stare into the mirror after staring up at the ceiling for hours, listening to the soft snoring of her sisters—it wasn't her, or at least, it wasn't the Adagio she remembered.
Her memories flashed the image of a confident smile beaming on her face, her hands on her hips as she looked back at herself with menacing eyes that promised she'd be on top no matter what. The perfectly curled hair, the flawless skin, the piercing eyes, they all made sure anyone that saw her couldn't look away... and it was a far cry from the girl she saw in the mirror now. Adagio gripped mug tightly again, looking down into the liquid as it rippled from the movement. It was all over now; a lump teased the back of her throat, enticing her to weep over the death of what she aspired to be, but there were no longer tears to shed. The accompanying emotions that would draw them out were gone, fading into the void of her own emptiness, like most of her emotions when she tried to feel anything now.
Today would be the same as every other day had been for the last six months: putting on that dumb uniform and checking into work, listening to her sisters bicker for hours on end, take orders from impatient customers, get another lecture from the manager after a customer complains about something menial and out of her control, then go home and collapse into her bed, hoping that the endless bickering or creeping dread wouldn't keep her up yet again. It was the life she had to live now, now that everything that'd ever made her who she was got ruthlessly stripped away. That confident grin died that awful day in an expression of horror in the reflection of the shattered shards of her pendant.
Adagio took in another sip, doing her best to focus on the taste and the feeling of the coffee slipping into her—anything to focus on something else for once. It was all so tiring, just being a passenger as her mind went on its usual circuit of self-hatred. Every day, resenting herself for ending up like this, for spending so many years in control only to end up... some pathetic shell sitting alone in a coffee shop every morning just feeling sorry for herself. Adagio looked outside and down the sidewalk; the nearest overpass was just a thirty-minute walk away, she thought.
It was one of the few nice thoughts she had left, finally being free from this endless cycle. All it would ever take was a single step over the concrete barrier on the side of that empty interstate and it'd finally be over. All the sleepless nights, all of the endless disappointment, all of her mistakes and failures that haunt her moments of clarity, they'd finally disappear into the dirt at the end of that drop. Adagio slumped back into her chair and let her head fall back to settle on the metal backrest. An hour there and back just to chicken out of another attempt; she didn't have the energy for it now, but the thought was nice at least. She'd made the walk at least once every few weeks now, so maybe some other day.
Death was a nice thought, at least. After being nothing but a shell for so long, it was nice to want again, even if that desire was an ending. Like chasing through a book to see what's at the end, she though, it was a fantasy that eased her mind if only for a moment with the promise of an escape, a chance to finally get the rest from everything she wanted, even if it was eternal.
Adagio leaned back over to slip her hands around her warm mug. The rest of the coffee shop refused to reflect her inner turmoil, with the odd abstract paintings hanging on the wall to flood the room with color, enticing in the lunch crowds that would actually populate the space with laughter and friendly conversation. The depressed aura settling in the corner of the room didn't belong, but Adagio didn't have the energy to find somewhere she might not contrast in so much anymore. The world only really put up with her now, using her for whatever use they could find at her job like she'd used so many before. It'd be like this for an eternity, or at least until she finally flew away.
A bit of her old self fought through the fog for a moment as she looked back at the weeks of this pitiable routine. She shook her head at her own pathetic angst and gripped at her mug even tighter to let out a frustrated groan. A wave of sudden anger broke through the void as her fingers grew tired from gripping her cup so tightly. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, she was supposed to be a star, a model, someone everyone else wished they could be, but now Adagio didn't even want to be herself anymore. Her anger flooded out into another frustrated sigh as she stared down at her mug.
Another sip enticed out another moment of clarity, her imagination running through the past, the feeling of being on stage and singing to the crowd, their desperate cheers begging for her voice to project another soothing melody. Desire crept in again, setting something else in her mind for her to want. A time machine would be pretty wonderful right about now, she thought. The bare skin on her chest where her gem used to rest was a constant reminder that she could never go back to that, that singing to a crowd to find that feeling of intense satisfaction in draining them like that would never be a part of her life again.
Adagio remembered the feeling well: absorbing the adoration from hundreds satisfied that animalistic urge, but as her mind visualized every little detail, that wasn't the only feeling she missed. Her hand pressed up against her neck yet again. It'd been so long since she even made an attempt at singing—the horrible grating of her voice without her crystal's guidance stuck in her mind like nails on a chalkboard ever since that day. Adagio's eyes opened a little wider as she imagined the stage again, but this time without her gem. The adoring crowd screaming her name, the beat blaring in the background, and her voice resonating out to thousands for all to adore. Even stripped of her power, the desire for that experience pooled up inside her.
Her lips curled up at the edges of her mouth as she lost herself in the dream of music flowing off of her tongue, but came crashing back down to reality at the memory of that awful scraping of her voice without her amulet. Adagio looked back down into her coffee, her mind bargaining for a different timeline where she could just perform again without the magic, even if it meant...
Adagio's eyes went wide with realization. Even if she could feel it, even one last time... she'd find some satisfaction, some purpose in life again, she though. She tapped on her phone again, swiping on the screen to unlock it and tapping around as her mind started to chase possibilities. Lessons wouldn't be that big of a deal, right? It's how everyone else did it. Something odd began happening inside her as another future started forming; the shell of her former self didn't feel so empty anymore as she imagined herself on that stage again.
A music store's webpage flashed with an advertisement for lessons on her phone and Adagio had to stare at it for a few moments to consider if she could even afford it, if it'd even work at all. All the ways it could go wrong piled up in her mind, slowly pushing her back into her hopeless existence. It wasn't realistic, it was hardly even possible to make a living like that anymore. She could destroy the shaky foundation she'd set her and her sisters up on even now chasing an impossibility.
Adagio gripped her mug tightly again and shook her head. She clenched her eyes shut and tried as hard as she could to grip at the hope slowly draining out of her, threatening to leave her to her own void yet again. The alternative for letting go ended at the edge of that overpass anyway, so Adagio finally decided to stand up out of her seat and look out the window at the first rays of the sunrise peeking over the buildings on the other side of the park. Today wasn't going to be another blur in the last six meaningless months of her life, today was going to be the beginning.
With something concrete to finally look forward to, Adagio brought up the number to call in sick for today; she had a nap to take and arrangements to make. The dull whites and depressing memories of the coffee shop turned out of view as she pushed open the front door into the fresh, morning air and the first warmth of the sun. With a new stride in her step and a growing smile on her face, Adagio finally knew what she wanted out of her life.
She was going to sing.
