The Terrible Singing of an Unrepentant Siren
“What am I looking at?” asked Adagio Dazzle, bored.
“It’s music,” said Sunset Shimmer.
Adagio flopped back on her bed which she had been sitting on, her wild orange curls splaying out on the sheets. She held the page above her face. “You mean these dots everywhere?”
“Those are music notes,” said Sunset, patiently, from where she sat on a metal chair beside the bed. Her jacket hung from the back of the chair due to the uncomfortable warmth of Adagio’s apartment.
“And what am I supposed to do with them?” The siren looked at the dots and lines with a blank expression.
“You read them and it tells you what to sing. Here.” Sunset reached over to point to the first measure. “I’ll explain—”
Adagio pulled it away from Sunset, out of her reach. “It looks like someone lost a game of ‘connect the dots.’ ”
Sunset reached out for it a second time. “Adagio, come on. Bring it over here and I’ll tell you what—”
“This is so beneath me,” Adagio said, tossing the page in the direction of the other girl’s hand. The page fluttered past and off the bed, landing at Sunset’s feet.
Sunset clenched her jaw. “Only because you threw it on the floor it is.”
She bent over and snatched the sheet up then sat back on the uncomfortable chair that served as the entirety of the room’s non-bed seating. Adagio’s small studio apartment contained—in addition to the chair—a table, bed, and desk, and Sunset wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake in being there.
But she had made a commitment—though it was a commitment she’d made mostly to herself, it was still a commitment. She sighed. There were a few different approaches she could still take. Sunset pulled her laptop out of her bag and opened it up on the desk.
“Okay, here—come look at this piano keyboard I got on the screen.”
“I can’t see it from here,” said Adagio, still lying on the bed.
“Come on, get up and come over here.”
“Bring it over to me.”
“You’re going to have to at least sit up.”
“Hold it above me.” Adagio put her arms up, framing a space directly above her face with her finger and thumb. “Right here would be perfect. I wouldn’t have to move my head.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “I’m not doing that, just get over here. You can play it with the keys on the computer keyboard.”
“So if you hit the A key does it play an A? That’s a note, right?” Adagio bent her legs up and crossed one over the other, kicking her foot in the air, the hem of her jeans falling a bit to show a long patterned sock. “And does the S key play an S?”
Sunset tapped her finger on the desk in growing annoyance. “Um, no. They play the notes in the same order as the keys are on the—look, I can’t show you if you don’t come over here.”
“Well I guess I’ll never see it then.”
“Fine,” Sunset said between her once-more-set jaw. “Try and match this pitch.” She plugged a pair of desktop speakers into the laptop with a pop, and played the C above middle C.
“Match what with what?” asked Adagio, lounging on the bed, playing with her curls.
“Just sing the same note that you hear.” She played it again.
“Blaaaah,” blahed Adagio. “There, nailed it.”
“Try a G above that, then. Is that more in your range?” Sunset played it. “Can you match that?”
“Go fish,” said Adagio.
Sunset snapped closed her laptop and stood up. “What the hell Adagio? You said you wanted me to help you get your singing back!”
“No,” Adagio said, holding her hand infront of her face to inspect her nails, “you accosted me in the halls and said you were going to make me sing again, then invited yourself here.” She stuck her legs out, hanging them over the edge of the bed. “I get it, I really do—what a great opportunity to show what an amazingly bigger person you are, and something about friendship and all that. But I don’t feel like it right now.” She rolled over to face Sunset. “Let’s do something else.”
Sunset took a breath and let it out, and sat back down. “I’m sure you miss being able to sing.” Sunset hoped the amazingly bigger person the situation gave her the opportunity to show wasn’t going to be of the flaming red variety. It hadn’t been all that long since she had turned into a raging demon—Sunset hoped she wasn’t giving herself too high of a friendship hurdle right out of the gate. She couldn’t let Adagio get to her. She needed to empathise with Adagio, she reminded herself. That was key. “I know it must be tough, learning it all over again.”
“Not ‘over again,’ ” said Adagio. “I never learned how to sing. None of us did—the three of us always just could. And we sang spectacularly well—but you know that.” She rested her head on her hand, lying sideways. “Then my gem got smashed somehow—do you remember how that happened, Sunset Shimmer?”
“I want to help you get your singing back,” said Sunset, evenly, “but without all the powers you had with those gems. I’m not going to be sorry about smashing them—you were using them to be evil.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Adagio waved her hand through the air. “Whatever, let’s not talk about that. Let’s do something else.”
Sunset rested her arm on the back of her chair where her jacket hung. Her reason for being there was quickly disappearing. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.” Adagio looked around the room, lazily flicking at her hair. “What do people in this dimension do for fun? Like, ‘hang out,’ right?”
“You want to hang out?”
“Yeah. We could talk about other things.” The siren turned around on the bed, lying on her front and facing Sunset with her hands on her chin. “Besides my evil singing and being evil, I mean.” She kicked her feet in the air behind her. “Oh, tell me about how you used to be evil and then turned into a demon.”
Sunset stood up with her coat and grabbed her computer and the sheets of music she brought. Adagio was definitely too high of a hurdle. “You know what? I think I’m going to go. There’s other stuff I was going to do today.”
“Oh, but I just love that story. Especially where you turn into a demon. Remember that part? It’s my favourite.”
Sunset walked towards the door and reached out to open it, but she stopped. She had made a commitment to herself. Her hand hovered an inch away from the doorknob. She knew Adagio wanted to sing again. An image popped into her head of the siren sitting at the piano in the music room, making futile attempts to sing along to the notes she feebly plunked out.
And though the other two sirens, Aria and Sonata, had seemed to fit in well enough with the rest of the school once the insanity of the Battle of the Bands had blown over, Adagio had not. Sunset never saw her with the other sirens. Adagio was alone at lunches, and was rarely around anyone else at all. Sunset had made a promise to herself she would help Adagio get her singing back and make some friends. As a reformed villain herself, she thought it was her responsibility to help out someone who was going through the same thing she had.
But clearly stripping Adagio of her powers had little effect on her personality. Sunset sighed. She was not anticipating Adagio to be as awful as she’d turned out to be—which cast everything in a new light. Probably the sirens had just driven themselves apart, and no one else could deal with her.
“Aren’t you leaving?” asked Adagio after a few moments had passed while Sunset deliberated.
“Yes,” said Sunset.
“Alright, go then,” said Adagio, but in a way that lacked the edge that it’d previously had.
Sunset glanced back, but Adagio was turned away. She couldn’t see anything past the mound of orange curls. Sunset let out a huff. Adagio was impossible, and this had been a mistake. She could try again later, maybe. Sunset grabbed the doorknob, turning it.
“Or—just wait,” said Adagio sitting up.
Sunset rolled her eyes and closed the door again. “What?”
“I also want to hear... you know.” She looked away. “What happened at the end of that story where you turned into a demon.” Adagio rolled the edge of the bedsheets between her fingertips. “When everyone started liking you again. I never heard that part.”
Sunset waited, one hand still on the doorknob.
“And because, well...” Adagio trailed off. She shrugged. “You said you were going to teach me how to sing again.”
Sunset groaned. “Oh, so now you suddenly want me to teach you?’’
“Not right now, but at some point.” Adagio let out a breath. “It’s just I’m... it’s hard to—” She looked up at Sunset, then blinked and looked away. “I’m not good at this, alright?”
“Not good at what?”
“This!” Adagio waved her hand through the air. “Everyone’s just so sensitive all the time—I can’t believe it! I can’t say two things to anyone without them walking away from me!”
“So when people aren’t under the spell of your siren song, they won’t take your shit anymore.” Sunset put a hand to her hip. “That’s the problem you’re running into?”
“Yes!” said Adagio, crossing her arms. She flicked her head at Sunset. “How do you put on that phony nice-girl act all the time?”
“It’s not phony,” said Sunset. “I really do—”
“Oh yeah right.” Adagio rolled her eyes. “You turned into a demon and now suddenly you’re nice? I don’t believe it.” She leaned forwards. “But somehow you made everyone want to be around you, again.” Her gaze became intense. “Tell me your secret.”
Sunset sighed, letting her hand slip off the doorknob. “It’s not an act, Adagio.” Sunset went over and dumped her stuff back where it was. “I really wanted to change. You have to want to change, too, if you want people to like you.”
Adagio blinked, considering this. Then she frowned. “Well I don’t care if they like me or not—I just want people to talk to me all the time and hang off my every word.”
“Yeah—that’s the kind of attitude you’ll have to work on. And I’m sitting on the bed, too. That chair sucks.”
Adagio shrugged. “Yes, it’s an awful chair. But it’s so much trouble to go out and find another one.”
“Yeah, that’d be a lot of work.” Sunset rolled her eyes as she bounced down on the bed.
They sat there, beside each other, neither of them saying anything.
“How... do I work on my attitude?” asked Adagio after a moment.
“I don’t know.” said Sunset, putting her hands behind her on the bed and leaning back. “Just start with trying to make a few real friends, I guess. If you make even one or two real friends, you might start to understand. What about Aria and Sonata? I see you don’t spend any time with them anymore. You could try—”
“No way.” Adagio huffed and stuck her chin up. “I’m through with those treacherous sea snakes. They were the first to walk away from me when our plan failed and we lost our powers. As if they didn’t need me anymore!”
“You probably all just need some time away from each other.” Sunset rubbed at her emerging headache. “Anyone else you could try being friends with that you can think of?”
“Yes,” said Adagio.
“Who?”
“You.”
“Oh,” said Sunset.
Another moment passed where no one said anything.
“So.” Adagio turned on the bed to face Sunset. “What do I need to make you stay around me?”
“That’s not....” Sunset ran her hand through her hair. “You’re thinking about it the wrong way, I think. You just have to try and make people around you happy.”
“Okay,” said Adagio, nodding. She sat cross-legged on top of the sheets. “So what do I have to do to make you happy?”
Sunset looked at Adagio, considering her. There was an honesty to Adagio she hadn’t picked up on until just then. The siren had no pretenses—she was truly as awful as she acted, and did nothing to hide it. She’d never needed to before, Sunset realized. And it was the first time Sunset had seen the siren dressed in just jeans and a t shirt instead of the glitzy outfits Adagio wore at school, which added to the impression that she was putting on no airs. All of it together made Sunset feel a bit differently about her, somehow.
“Well,” said Sunset, “I came here to help you learn how to sing, so if we did that it would make me happy, I guess.”
Adagio groaned and flopped backwards. “That’s going to be even harder than making friends.”
Sunset couldn’t help but laugh, which got a scowl from Adagio. “You haven’t even done any singing, yet. And besides, once you learn some of the basics like common intervals, and get used to singing in a key, it’ll get easier.”
Adagio’s head popped up, her eyes with a glint of hope in them. “You think?”
“Yeah, pretty sure.” She gave Adagio a half-smile. “So do you want to start now?”
“No.” Adagio lay back. “Let’s’ go somewhere. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
“Can’t you just eat here?’
“No, there’s no food here.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing I want.”
“There must be something,” said Sunset getting up. “I’m going to go look at what you have.”
“Fine, go ahead.”
Sunset went over to the pantry. If Adagio wasn’t going to do anything to hide her awful personality, Sunset saw no point in bothering with common courtesy. She rummaged through the things in Adagio’s pantry. “Here, you’ve got some... hmm, never mind.” She opened the fridge. “Oh, there’s some... oh ew, okay, not that.” She looked through the rest of the cupboards and drawers then came back and flopped onto the bed.
“Well?” asked Adagio.
“Alright fine. You have no food. Don’t you ever shop for groceries?”
Adagio lifted her head so Sunset could see her sour look. “Who has time for that?”
The corner of Sunset’s mouth turned up. “You can’t go out to get another chair, you don’t get groceries, practicing singing is too hard—is there anything you’re not too lazy to do?”
“I do my school work,” said Adagio defensively, propping herself up on an elbow. She gave a smug grin. “I have one of the top marks in our year.”
“Really?” Sunset blinked, surprised. “What’s the point of that? I thought you’d just come to the school to feed off of Equestrian magic.”
“Well, I got this apartment on a scholarship.”
Sunset rested back on her elbows. “You have a scholarship?” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait, they give apartments on scholarships?”
“They do when you’re a siren. All three of us got our own. We applied as foreign transfer students—which is technically what we are—and it was combined with a stipend, bursary... something, I don’t know. A lot of things,” she said, gesturing with her hand. “Anyway, they thought we were going to be the best thing that ever happened to Canterlot High. We all got a free ride—everything included.” She let out a breath. “And since I can’t charm anyone into keeping it, I have to keep my grades up. Can’t have anyone looking into it too carefully when it’s so plainly outrageous.”
Sunset’s brow rose. “Wow. So you’re telling me you actually became the model student you magically convinced everyone you would be? That’s actually kind of impressive.”
“Well it’s not like I have anything else to do.” Adagio shrugged. “I don’t have any friends, remember?”
“Right. Well... maybe we can work on the friends part.” Sunset sat up. “Alright, let’s go out to eat then.” It was well into the afternoon and Sunset hadn’t had much to eat that day, so she wasn’t entirely against the prospect. “I took my car here, so I can drive us. Unless you have a car?”
“Actually I do,” said Adagio, grinning. “And it’s way nicer than what you drive.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen your car. It looks like it’s barely holding together.”
“Not that—I mean, yeah, my car’s a piece of junk.” Sunset waved her hand through the air. “Pretty much anything would be better than that awful thing. I’m wondering how you managed to afford a car. It wasn’t part of your scholarship, was it?” She glanced to the side. “If so—I really gotta get me one of those.”
“No,” Adagio said, and fluffed her curls. “I got it with siren magic, though, of course.”
Sunset raised her eyebrow. “You conned someone out of it?”
“I paid for it!” said Adagio with a huff. The corner of her mouth turned up. “Least anyone ever paid for a car from that dealership, though.”
Sunset smiled. “So you’re slimier than even a used-car salesman?”
Adagio smiled back. “He never knew what hit him.”
Sunset laughed as she got up, and put on her short, faux-leather jacket, and Adagio went to find something more to wear. It was spring, but there was a chill in the air though the sun was warm.
“Does that mean you want to drive us?” asked Sunset.
“Oh no, I’ll absolutely let you drive me around,” said Adagio, neglecting the pile of clothes on the floor to pull out an old-looking hoodie from between her bed and the wall.
“Wow, I’m honored.”
“You should be,” Adagio said, with an imperious grin that didn’t quite match her struggle to pull the sweater over her massive hair.
They left the apartment and walked down the stairs from the third floor of the elevator-less building, and out the front doors.
“Mine’s that one there,” said Adagio, pointing to a sleek yellow two-door, the colour of which served as a stark contrast to the faded orangish-brown tone of Sunset’s beater—a poor memory of a colour that was an awful colour for a car, to begin with.
“That is way better than mine,” Sunset said. “How about I drive your car there?”
“No, I can imagine how you would drive. You’ve definitely made the right choice with that thing you’ve got. It’s uh...” Adagio sniffed. “Disposable.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Sunset gave her an angled grin. “How do you think I would drive?”
Adagio set her brow, looking at Sunset critically up and down. “Yeah, you’re a reckless driver. Without a doubt.”
“It’s the jacket, isn’t it?”
“And your ripped jeans. Did you buy them with rips in them?”
Sunset looked down at her tattered jeans. ”This one’s real,” she said, pointing to one on the knee. “Got it at band practice, power-sliding.”
“Yeah, you’re not driving my car.”
Sunset unlocked the door to her beater and got in, then leaned over to unlock the passenger side.
“But even with how crazy you think I am, you still won’t drive us?” asked Sunset.
“Why would I do something when someone else would do it for me?” Adagio asked, getting in the car.
“You’re really not used to doing things for yourself, are you?” asked Sunset with a bit of a smile.
She turned the key and the vehicle lurched to life. Once Sunset was sure it’d remain running—the sounds it made during its first few moments of operation always made that an uncertainty—she hit the gas and tore away from the curb as fast as the car’s small, battered engine could handle.
“You’re doing this just to spite me,” accused Adagio, grabbing onto the emergency handle above the door.
“Yeah, totally,” said Sunset, ripping around at the corner. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“It was a left back there, actually.”
“Oh, no problem.” Sunset checked her mirror. “Yeah, there’s no one around.” She slammed the brake and swerved in a wild U-turn. “There, we’re going the right way now.”
Adagio was sitting straight in her seat. Sunset couldn’t help grinning.
“Remind me why I was asking you for advice on how to not act evil?” asked Adagio, tensely.
“What you did earlier was not what a normal person calls ‘asking.’ ”
“Well I’m not a normal person,” said Adagio, flicking her hair even while bracing herself in the seat. “And neither are you. We’re from a different dimension—I’m an evil sea monster and you’re a pony that turns into a demon sometimes.
“Right, poor choice of words on my part.” Sunset hit another hard corner.
After far less time than it should have taken for even such a short trip, they arrived at a place with the words “Wrapped or Not” above the door in large blocky letters.
“This place is pretty good,” said Adagio, getting out of the car. “I go here all the time.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow as she followed. “If you say so.”
They went inside to be met with shiny green-themed modernness. Two fit, active looking workers stood behind the counter.
“Is this some health food place?” asked Sunset quietly. “You go to a health food place all the time?” She grinned.
“Yes,” said Adagio, turning her chin up. “It’s not like I can eat tacos and burgers for every meal, you know.”
“You know we actually passed a grocery store on the way here.”
“Whatever,” Adagio said, flicking her head, which would have flipped her hair to the side if she had hair that was quite a bit thinner, straighter, and less wild than hers was. Instead, it had the effect of poofing her hair slightly in a leftwards direction. She went over toward the counter. “It’s actually pretty good here.”
“So you’ve said.”
They got up to the till, above which was a large menu with wraps, salads, and rice bowls with no discernible theme to them besides general healthiness.
Adagio took a step forward. “I’ll get the cobb salad but in a wrap with no blue cheese, extra avocado, just romaine lettuce instead of the mixed greens, add chicken, and the vinaigrette dressing with just a little italian dressing as well.”
“Sure thing,” the guy at the register said, then turned to his coworker. “You got that?”
The other employee, a girl of far-greater-than-average height and build, had a pita out and was already assembling it. Without looking away from the wrap she gave a thumbs-up.
“Yeah, just be a minute.” He turned to Sunset. “And for yourself?”
Sunset blinked as she stared at the large, complicated menu.
“Wrap? Salad? Bowl?” the guy suggested helpfully. “You can order off the menu or make your own. And we also have soups.” He shrugged. “And there’s a few other things we can make that aren’t on the menu.”
“I’ll have... Adagio, what will I have?” Sunset asked, turning to her.
“Get that first burrito there,” said Adagio, pointing.
“Which one?”
“The first one. Under burritos. The one I’m pointing at?”
“Ah.” It looked like there was a good chance of it being pretty good despite the fact that she recognized the names of only a few of the things in it. “I’ll get that burrito thing.”
“You want protein on it? Chicken, steak, tofu, falafel?”
“Um, vegetarian? But not tofu...”
“Falafel’s good,” said Adagio.
“Okay, I’ll have that, whatever it is.”
“Fried and seasoned chick pea thing,” said the guy at the register with a tilt of his head. “You’ll like it, probably.”
Sunset shrugged. “Sure.”
They also grabbed some drinks, picked from an eclectic assortment of things with strange names and bold promises of the extreme quantities of antioxidants they contained. Sunset made her decision based on which colour of packaging she prefered. Once they paid, the guy at the till washed his hands and started on Sunset’s order.
They stood off to the side while the workers made their food. Sunset opened her drink and took a sip. It tasted of very tart fruit and berries, but wasn’t bad. She nudged Adagio.
“So that’s a crazy special order you got there.”
“Yeah, well, they don’t mind doing it here.” Adagio watched the worker flipping and rolling up the wrap in one quick motion, already finished. “It’s one of the only places I can still make changes to my order since I lost my powers—anywhere else they give me this disgusted look, ask me to repeat my order a dozen times, and then still get it wrong.”
“So really, you just like being able to make things difficult.”
Adagio frowned slightly, looking at Sunset. “And they have lots of vegetarian options here,” she said.
Sunset blinked. “Oh.”
“And I was right, wasn’t I? You’re still stuck on the... pony thing. No meat, right?”
“Yeah,” said Sunset.
“I bet that jacket of yours isn’t real leather, is it?”
“Hey, it’s ‘vegan leather.’ ” said Sunset with a half-smile, tugging on the lapels.
Adagio raised her eyebrow. “Meaning it’s vinyl?”
“Yeah,” said Sunset with a laugh. “Doesn’t ‘vegan leather’ sound so much better than ‘fake leather,’ though?” Then she looked to the side. “But um... thanks, I guess.”
“Whatever. I just didn’t want you whining at me over the place I wanted to eat at.”
“Order is done,” said the large woman in a thick accent, and handed a wrap to Adagio. Sunset’s quickly followed.
They took their wraps over to one of the booths in the restaurant. Sunset started peeling away the sticker keeping the paper on the wrap rolled up, but Adagio stopped her.
“Don’t do that—you want to tear down as you go or the whole thing comes unwrapped. How do you not know that?”
“Oh sorry for not being an expert on healthy places.”
“If you get a burrito from a taco place, it’s the same thing. Are you telling me you just take all the paper right off and have the sauce drip all over like some kind of mindless bottom feeder?”
“Uh, yeah. The same way everyone else does, ever.” Sunset stopped trying to open the whole thing and instead did just undo the twisted end and started ripping along the top edge of it.
Adagio let out a huff. “Well, at least you’re learning, now.”
Sunset bit into her burrito, which, as far as she could tell, differed from Adagio’s wrap only in the fact that it had rice instead of lettuce in it, and it was grilled. She got a mouthfull of one of what must be the falafel that she’d gotten it with—it was sort of mushy, but not bad, and tasted alright. There was some kind of sour pink vegetable in the mix as well, which cut the flavour nicely.
“Alright, it’s pretty good,” said Sunset.
“I told you,” said Adagio.
They ate their food for a bit.
Adagio looked as though she was going to say something, then hesitated. She seemed to change her mind and took a drink instead.
“What?” said Sunset.
“Nothing,” said Adagio.
“If you say so.”
Adagio looked to the side. “I was going to say that I missed going to places with other people like this, but that just sounds sad and pathetic.”
Sunset shrugged. “No, it’s fine. That’d be normal to feel that way. Do you miss the other sirens?”
“No way. Those two are nothing but incessant bickering and idiocy.” She waved her hand through the air. “It’s just that it was nice having some background noise, occasionally.”
“So I’m a fair substitute for idiotic background noise. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Well, yes,” said Adagio. “Though I think you’re a step up from just that.”
“Oh, thanks,” Sunset said with a laugh.
They ate some more.
Then Adagio put her hand on the table. “So. Will you be friends with me?”
“Well that’s direct,” Sunset said, taking a sip from her drink.
“I’ve decided that I enjoy your company, and I think we’d be great together.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes. We’re both villains from Equestria, and we both know what it’s like to be loved by all for our otherworldly beauty and charm, only to have it all taken away.” She thought about it, then tilted her head. “Well, the otherworldly beauty and charm is still there, of course.”
“You sure do think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“I said it about you, too.” Adagio ripped at the paper covering her wrap.
The corner of Sunset’s mouth turned up. “So was that you trying to give me a compliment? Good effort.”
“Whatever,” said Adagio. “I stand by what I said. It’s in your best interests to be friends with me. Think of all we could accomplish together.”
“You’re sure working hard to build a case for yourself, and I appreciate the effort, but that last bit sounds... ominous.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean you want me to help you take over the school again?”
Adagio shrugged. “Not like before—not in an evil way.” She gave a grin that had a sinister edge to it, nonetheless. “But we could make them all worship us again. Tell me you don’t miss that.”
“I don’t.” Sunset put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “It was like a game of pretend. No one really cared about me. Or you—they just let us do what we wanted because it was too much of a bother to do anything about it.”
“Speak for yourself—I had them under my spell.”
“Even so. They didn’t actually think we were all that great—totally the opposite, actually.”
“But it was so much easier!” Adagio flicked her hand through the air. “I didn’t have to stoop down to making friends”—she spat out the words with disgust—“just so I can have someone to eat lunch with. People would all do my bidding without question!”
Sunset’s brow fell straight. “So what you really miss is lackeys?”
“Yes!” Adagio leaned forward, her arms crossed on the table. “Didn’t you have lackeys?”
Sunset sighed. “Yeah, I had lackeys.”
“You have to miss that!”
Sunset looked to the side. “Well... sometimes.” She turned back to face Adagio. “Don’t get me wrong, friends are much more reliable—but having someone to do absolutely anything you want them to...”
“There’s nothing else like it, right?”
Adagio was leaning closer toward Sunset over the table. Sunset raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not going to be your lackey, if that’s what this is about.”
“Oh, no, not you,” Adagio said, leaning back. “And it’s probably a stretch thinking someone would ever be my lackey again.” She looked back at Sunset. “Unless you really would join forces with me?”
Sunset shrugged. “I’ll be your friend, I guess—this is turning out to be surprisingly fun—but ‘joining forces’ feels a little too... villainous. We’re trying not to be that, remember?” Sunset sipped at her drink. “And I’m not going to be your friend just to help you get some new lackeys.”
“Fine. I guess I can’t expect more than that.”
“But I will help you learn to sing again, if you actually make an effort.”
Adagio crossed her arms. “I suppose I can let you teach me, then.”
“You know that attitude doesn’t do anything to reassure me about this,” Sunset said with an amused grin. Sunset took the last bite of her burrito. “This place is pretty good though, I’ll give you that.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Adagio, also finishing up.
Sunset grabbed her jacket and stood up. “Alright. When we get back are you going to be ready to try some singing?”
“Only if you drive at a normal speed on the way back.”
Sunset grinned. “But neither of us are normal, remember?”
Adagio rolled her eyes. “Fine. Poor choice of words.”
They left the restaurant and made the return trip to Adagio’s place at a much more reasonable pace.
Sunset tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, then let out a breath. “Hey, so... I heard you the other day. In the music room.”
After a moment Adagio said, “Oh.”
“I was going back to get some music that I left there after a Rainbooms practice, and yeah.”
Adagio didn’t say anything.
Sunset had watched unseen at the door while Adagio sat at the piano, singing quietly, uncertainly, terribly. Adagio looked small in the room, huddled close to the piano. Her presence used to fill a gymnasium. Sunset had left without getting her music sheets.
“But it’s fine,” said Sunset. “We’ll just start from the very beginning.” She shrugged. “It’s where a lot of people start when they first learn to sing. Lot’s of really good singers started like this, I’m sure.” She wasn’t sure. Most great singers had a lot of talent going in, probably. It was like starting from zero when learning the guitar, though. No one picked up the guitar already knowing how to play it. So maybe it could still be true.
“Whatever,” said Adagio.” Save the pep-talk for someone who needs it.”
“I’m just saying that I already heard you trying to sing, and I’m still here. I wouldn’t have said I could teach you how to sing again if I didn’t think you could do it.”
“Alright, alright, you’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Well don’t. I said I would try, and I will.”
Sunset pulled up infront of Adagio’s apartment. “Well, alright. Forget I said anything then.”
Then they re-entered the apartment, Sunset set up her laptop again, and they sat down on the bed beside each other.
“So. Are you ready to start?” asked Sunset.
Adagio nodded slowly, clearly tense despite what she’d said. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Okay,” said Sunset. “Try singing the same note you hear.” She played the C above middle C again.
Adagio took a breath then let it out. Then she took a breath and sang.
It wasn’t anywhere close to the C Sunset had played. It wasn’t in the key of C. It hardly sounded musical.
Adagio stopped immediately and turned away.
“You sure you don’t need that pep-talk?” Sunset asked. She put her hand on Adagio’s shoulder. “It’s fine, don’t stop. Just keep going until you hit it.”
“This is awful,” said Adagio, brushing her hand away. “I sound like an animal shelter burning down.”
“Please never say that around Fluttershy.”
“I’m serious. I don’t know if I can—”
“Hey, I don’t care if you sound bad. And there’s no one else around. You’re the only one being hard on yourself, here.”
“I do have neighbors.”
“Well screw your neighbors. It’s not like they’re trying to sleep or something. They can just turn their tvs up. Just try again. I’ll tell you higher or lower.”
Adagio tapped her heel against the bed frame. “Alright fine.”
Sunset played the note and kept hitting it in a steady rhythm as Adagio ‘Ahh’ed, trying to match it. Sunset pointed her up until Adagio passed it, then back down until she got close. Adagio hovered around the note, swiveling up and down, and then finally she landed on it.
Adagio let out a breath of relief and flopped back. “There, I did it.”
“Good,” said Sunset, and stopped playing the note. “Now let’s hear that same note but without the piano this time.”
“What? How do I do that?”
“Remember what it sounded like. Remember what it feels like,” said Sunset.
“You mean what it feels like... in my ear?”
“Yes, but also physically. Your vocal chords. Throat muscles. Whatever.”
“Ew.”
“Maybe you never thought about it before, with your ancient Equestrian auto-tune magic, but if you can remember what the note feels like in your throat, it can help a bit.”
Adagio raised an eyebrow. “That still sounds gross.”
“Come on, just try it. I’ll give you the note again.”
Sunset hit the note once, then Adagio tried to sing it.
“No, you’re flat,” said Sunset.
Adagio put her hand to her chest. “My breasts are excellent,” she said, indignantly.
Sunset raised an eyebrow. “They’re alright—I don’t know about ‘excellent.’ That’s not what I meant, though, I meant—”
Adagio waved her hand through the air. “Yes, I know what ‘sharp’ and ‘flat’ mean.” She sighed. “I know at least that much. You’re just so... sure of yourself all the time. It’s annoying. You were supposed to have more of a reaction to that so I could laugh at you and stop thinking about how bad I am at singing.” She crossed her arms. “And that was completely uncalled for, by the way.”
“Fine, fine. Your boobs are fantastic. Can we get back to singing, now?”
Adagio shook her head. “Not even a light blush from you. You are too cool, Sunset Shimmer.”
“Yes, I totally am. Now focus.” She hit the C. “Try again.”
They tried several more times, and eventually Adagio was able to matched it without the piano.
“Here, try a fifth up from C.”
Adagio frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Literally just the fifth note up from C. Wasn’t trying to trick you.” Sunset glanced at Adagio. “Do you know what a scale is? Most vocals runs in songs are based off a scale, sometimes just skipping a few notes in it, or switching between going up and down. The ‘key’ of a song just means all the notes in that particular scale are, uh, allowed to be in the song. Well, others are, just... and then chords fit into it too... never mind, we’ll start with that.”
“I can guess at what some of that means.” Adagio ran her hand along the bedsheets, looking to the side. “I remember what singing was like—I didn’t get amnesia. I know what runs going up and down are supposed to sound like, just not how to make the notes, or what the technical names for everything are. And all that other stuff.”
“Then you should recognize this interval.” Sunset played the C and then the G above it.
“Yeah, that sounds like two notes.”
“They’re two important notes in a chord. The other is the third. Here’s C major—meaning the C chord without anything weird done to it—one, three, and five: C, E, G.”
She played the notes one at a time and then together in the chord.
“Yeah, I recognize that.”
“See if you can sing the same progression. If you can do it for C, you can do it for any chord, just starting on a different note.”
They kept working for a couple of hours, only taking breaks for water. Sunset was surprised at Adagio’s stamina—her voice never seemed to tire. Clearly nothing had changed physically—she still had the resilience that came with a lifetime of singing. By the end of it, Adagio could match notes well enough, and knew how to recognize and reliably sing a few basic intervals.
“Ugh, that’s enough notes,” said Adagio, finally, tossing herself back to lie on the bed. “I can’t ‘Ahh’ anymore.”
“You could try ‘Oooh’ing.”
“Oh yeah, that would be completely different and way better. Thanks for such great advice.”
“Seriously, though,” said Sunset. “Really good work. I think you came a long way.”
“Let’s try some songs,” said Adagio from where she lay. “I want to sing actual words.”
“Oh,” said Sunset, looking over at her. “I assumed you were going to be done for the day.”
“No, just done with the ‘Aah’s.”
Sunset smiled. “Alright, I guess we could try a song. Anything in mind?”
“Yes. Put on that one Countess Coloratura song.”
Sunset sighed. “I actually know exactly which one you’re talking about. The one that’s being played past the point of death right now, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Adagio propped herself up so she could give Sunset a smirk. “Somehow I knew you’d hate that song.”
“So if I said I actually really like it, would you choose a different song?”
“You probably just don’t like it because it doesn’t have a guitar solo in it.’
Sunset put a hand to her hip. “That’s only part of the reason.”
Adagio stuck her chin up. “Well, this is my singing lesson, and that’s the song I choose.”
“Fine. I agreed to help you sing again, not develop taste.” Sunset got off the bed and set up the computer on the desk, sitting on the metal chair, and hooked up the pair of desktop speakers. “On the upside—no matter how badly you sing, there’s no way you could make me hate this song more than I already do.”
“Hey!” Adagio kicked Sunset’s chair. “Just put it on, already!”
“Just a second! I’m looking for it!”
Adagio repeatedly kicked Sunset’s chair. “It’s just about the most popular song in the world right now, and you’re having trouble finding it?”
“Yeah—I gotta sift through all the crappy cellphone concert videos, the ones with low-quality audio, the bad amvs and nightcore versions... okay okay, here it is.” She looked over at Adagio. “Ready?”
Adagio nodded. “Yes. Do it.”
Sunset played the song. Adagio sang along with it through the first verse and the chorus. She was all over the place, missing more notes that she hit—the ones she got close to were still severely sharp in some places and flat in others. At some points she wasn’t even in the right octave.
When she got to the second verse, she messed up the lyrics and stopped.
“Holy shit I’m terrible,” said Adagio, and shrugged. “And apparently I don’t know all the words.”
“But good effort,” said Sunset. “I can tell you’re not so self-conscious anymore. That’s definitely a first step.”
“Yeah. I feel comfortable around you,” said Adagio.
“Oh,” said Sunset, a bit surprised at Adagio’s directness. “Well... that’s good.”
“Get the lyrics up and I’ll try again.”
Sunset frowned. “Just get the lyrics up on your phone.”
“I can’t. My phone is... somewhere. Get them on your computer—you’re already on the internet.”
“Alright, alright.”
Sunset found the lyrics, and Adagio got up to stand behind the metal chair to see them, resting her arms on the back of it and leaning forward.
“Oof,” said Sunset. “Your crazy hair is getting me.”
Adagio had her head to the side of Sunset’s, a ways away. It left enough room for her curls to poof forward into Sunset’s face.
“Okay, fine then,” said Adagio. She crossed her arms on the back of Sunset’s neck and leaned in, putting her face directly next to Sunset’s, close enough that her hair was held back by Sunset’s. “Better?”
Sunset glanced over with a start, shocked by the sudden closeness. Adagio raised her eyebrow at her reaction.
“Too close?” she asked with a smirk.
Sunset turned her head forward, pointedly ignoring Adagio’s look.
“No, whatever,” said Sunset.
“I think it’s kind of nice,” said Adagio, plainly. Then the edge returned to her voice. “And your cool is slipping.”
Sunset tried to shrug her off, but it didn’t work. “Fine, be weird then. Are you ready to try the song? Just don’t shout in my ear.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Adagio.
Sunset played it again. Adagio sang through the entirety of it, a bit closer in some parts but still quite a ways off for the majority of it, eliciting a cringe from Sunset at every instance due to the proximity of the bad singing to her ear.
“That was still really bad,” said Sunset.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be encouraging me,” said Adagio, poking at Sunset’s cheek.
Sunset swatted her finger away. “Well we could try it again, but I think it’d be better to try something else.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I could look up the chords for it, and I’ll play it for you myself. Then we could take it as slow as you needed, and break it down at the parts you have trouble with.”
“What songs can you play?” Adagio asked, slumping on Sunset more so she could peer around and look at her better.
“Um, nothing really on the piano. And this isn’t a real piano, anyway. I’m not sure anyone could play a song on it without a proper MIDI controller.”
“I don’t know what that means—but you can play the guitar, right? Where’s your guitar?”
“At my place.”
“Okay, let’s go to your place, then,” said Adagio. She stood up, freeing Sunset.
“Oh, okay,” said Sunset. “Yeah, I guess we could do that.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Adagio leaned back over and slid her arms around Sunset again, pressing her nose to Sunset’s neck in a close hug.
Sunset tensed up. “Um, what’s happening?”
“I’m just giving you a hug.”
“If it was someone else, I’d believe that.”
Adagio let Sunset go, but kept her hands on her shoulders, leaning around to face her. “You don’t believe I would want to hug you for doing so much for me?” She grinned. “It’s because I’m a terrifying sea monster from another dimension, isn’t it?”
“Nope, just the first part—you’re right, I don’t believe that. You’re just trying to throw off my cool again, right? It’s not working, so stop.” Sunset took Adagio’s wrists in her hands and held them out away from her, then stood up. Sunset went to move away, but Adagio caught her arm, holding it.
“Well you should believe it,” said Adagio. She didn’t look at Sunset. “Because that’s what it is. Um... thanks.”
“Oh,” said Sunset. She didn’t say anything for a moment. “Well... hey, it’s no problem.” She shrugged. “I mean yeah, I kind of hate that Countess song, but I don’t mind playing it if—”
“Not just that—everything. I don’t know... what I’m supposed to say. Just... thanks, I guess.”
“Um, okay then,” said Sunset. She put her hand atop Adagio’s. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
Adagio let go. “Okay, let’s go to your place.”
“Sure,” said Sunset.
Adagio moved toward the door, then stopped, crossed her arms and glanced back. “Drive me again,” she said.
“Alright, alright,” said Sunset with a resigned smile.
Again they made the trip out of Adagio’s apartment, down the stairs, and out to Sunset’s car.
“Wait, I have to grab something from my car,” said Adagio. She went over to the passenger side of her little yellow car, unlocked and opened the door, and leaned in to get something that must have come out of the glove box, and then came back to Sunset’s car.
“Alright, let’s go,” said Adagio as she opened the door to get in.
“What was that you got?”
“Oh nothing.”
Sunset shrugged. “Fine, keep being weird then.” Sunset turned on the car, and then put it into first.
“Wait,” said Adagio. “Let’s not go straight to your house. Let’s go driving around.”
Sunset flipped it back into neutral and looked over at her. “Driving around where?”
“I don’t know.” Adagio waved her hand in the air. “Around. That’s what people do sometimes, right? They go for drives?” She crossed her arms. “You’re the one with friends. Where do you go with those other people?”
“The girls?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. We go places. We jam. We talk about stuff.” She gave a half-smile and shrugged. “Pretty much what we’ve been doing today. They don’t really think about it much.”
“So you’re just along for the ride then?”
“Yeah, most of the time.”
“Well, now you’re in charge.” Adagio pointed off into the distance. “Find us somewhere cool to drive to.”
“Alright, alright.” Sunset couldn’t help but smile a bit. Adagio was imperious and demanding, but it felt different than before. Maybe Adagio was still awful, but she wasn’t being awful to Sunset. It felt like they were on the same side, or at least closer to that than they were. She found herself hoping it would stay like that—Adagio was pretty fun to be around, like this.
She had no idea where Adagio was expecting her to drive to, though. She drove around a bit, nearly getting lost a few times, and ended up just driving in circles.
“We’ve passed by here three times!” said Adagio. “This is boring. You’re terrible at this.”
“Well you can drive next time, then,” said Sunset with a smile.
“No way.” Adagio crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. “Whatever. Just pull in that parking lot there until you figure out where we’re going.”
“What, here?” There was a turnoff to a parking lot that they were about to pass by.
“Yeah,” said Adagio.
Sunset hit a hard corner that turned them into the parking lot, which was overlooking the riverbank.
“Hey, this isn’t so bad,” said Sunset, looking over the river.
“Pretty sure the sewer lets out into that river.” Adagio turned her nose up. “You should turn the radio on while you think of somewhere cool to go.”
Sunset turned off the car but left the battery on and turned on the radio. Adagio reached over and spun the dial, and then grinned as she happened past something familiar, and turned back to it.
“Gah, this song really is everywhere!” said Sunset, tossing her hands up, but smiling, too. “Doesn’t anyone besides the Countess make music?”
Adagio turned it up.
“Hey!” Sunset elbowed her.
“I like this song,” said Adagio, “but her earlier stuff was better.”
“The Equestrian version of her is better.”
Adagio’s brow went up and she looked over at Sunset. “There’s an Equestrian version of her?”
“Yeah—I guess that’s way after your time there, though.” Sunset looked to the side. “Um... hey, I’ve been meaning to ask—how long have you been in this world?”
“A while,” said Adagio, dismissively.
“Twilight said you were banished from Equestria thousands of years ago. Have you been—”
“Wait, what?” Adagio sat forward. “Thousands of years?”
“So... you didn’t know that?”
“How would I have known that?”
“If you’d been in this world for thousands of years, you would know that.”
“No, no, nothing like that. The three of us got here a few years ago.” Adagio took off her seatbelt, moving around to get more comfortable. “That Starswirl bastard must have sent us to into the future as well as to another dimension.” She gave a huff. “I bet he did that so if we found a way back, it’d be someone else’s problem.” She shook her head. “That is so like him.”
Then something occurred to her. She looked at Sunset with a light in her eyes. “Wait, if it’s thousands of years in the future, that means that asshole is—”
“Yeah, he’s basically just a myth now.”
“Ha, he’s dead!” Adagio laughed. “Take that you scum-sucking bottom-feeder! I’m still standing, and where are you? Dead! Ha!”
Sunset just looked at her for a moment. “So... are you done with your evil villain rant, or you want to keep going a bit?”
Adagio leaned back in her chair, a peaceful grin on her face. “No, I’m good.”
Then Sunset thought of something. “Hey! I bet you haven’t heard this one yet—you remember Princess Luna, right?”
“Yeah. She’s the blue one?”
“She went evil, turned into this Nightmare creature, and tried to make the night last forever. Princess Celestia had to banish her to the moon for a thousand years.”
“Really? Is she still there?”
“Nah, Twilight and her friends stopped her when she returned, and made her good again. That was just a few years ago.”
“Wild,” said Adagio.
Neither of them said anything for a few moments. The evening was wearing on, and the sun had gone down. Headlights from the occasional car driving by the parking lot rolled shadows across the two girls.
“I guess things are pretty different there, then,” said Adagio.
“I bet they would be.” Sunset ran her thumb around the top of the gearshift. “Did you ever think about going back?”
Adagio sighed. “No. I knew when I left that I’d never return.”
“But you’ve lost you evil powers now, and, well, you seem pretty happy that Starswirl the Bearded isn’t around anymore. You could probably go back if you wanted to. I’m sure Twilight would—”
“If I went back now, I’d be a monster in name and nothing else. I wouldn’t have any evil powers. What would that make me? I’d just be a weird-looking fish-pony.”
“Ponies are a lot different now than when you were there, I think. They forgave Princess Luna for the whole Nightmare incident, they might—”
“It’s not worth it.” Adagio rustled in her chair. “It probably wouldn’t be. I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m just saying that the option’s there, if you really don’t want to be in this world anymore.”
Adagio brought her legs up, putting her feet on the dash. “What about you? Do you think of going back?”
Sunset shrugged. “I don’t know if there’s anything for me back there. Twilight’s the only pony I’m actually friendly with in Equestria.” She sighed. “I mean, I should probably go see my parents again at some point. But later.” She put her knee on the bottom edge of the steering wheel. “And anyway, Twilight has all these other friends, who are, you know, doppelgangers of my friends here. It just seems like it’d be weird, you know?”
She tugged at her hair. “Plus—hands, right? These are pretty good. I don’t have my magic like I used to—but magic caused me a lot of problems. I don’t miss it. I’m good with hands.”
“Yeah, hands are alright.”
Sunset put on an easy smile. “I think I might make a go of it here.”
Adagio nodded. “I can see the appeal.”
Another song came on the radio, even more artificial and auto-tuned than the Countess song. Sunset switched it off. “Okay, I just can’t deal with that right now.”
“Fine,” said Adagio.
They sat there in silence for a moment.
“Have you thought of somewhere cool yet?” asked Adagio.
“Um, no.”
“Alright.” Adagio flicked her hair and looked over at Sunset. “But this is a terrible place to make out.”
Sunset’s knee slipped off the steering wheel and her foot stomped on the floor. Then she shrugged. “Oh, well isn’t this a disappointingly typical high school cliche—I thought with you being a legendary sea monster you’d come up with a more exciting set-up.”
Adagio’s brow fell straight for a moment. Then she put on a coy grin and leaned closer. “That doesn’t sound like a ‘no.’ ”
Sunset rested her arm on the steering wheel. “Was that really what you were planning with all this? It seems awfully convoluted. You could’ve just asked.”
Adagio held her gaze for a moment, then broke off, waving her hand through the air. “Fine, I give up.” She leaned back in her seat. “You really are too cool. I thought for sure I’d see you flustered with that.”
“Maybe the reason I’m not flustered”—Sunset leaned over, putting her hand on Adagio’s chair next to her—“is because I do want to make out.”
Adagio opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t come up with anything to say, and her face turned red. Then she realized what Sunset was doing and turned away, crossing her arms and letting out an indignant huff.
Sunset laughed and sat back in her chair. “Yeah, okay, messing with someone who’s totally cool all the time is pretty fun.” She put a finger to her chin and looked up. “Oh wait, you wouldn’t know—I’m way too cool for you to mess with me.”
“Whatever. Don’t expect to get me like that again.”
“Oh come on, you’re not that cool.” Sunset smiled. She had to admit that Adagio’s reaction was pretty good—but she wouldn’t admit that she was a bit flustered despite her outward show of cool indifference, and ignored the fact that her heart was beating faster.
“Whatever,” Adagio said. Then, apparently rallying herself, she put on a smirk and reached into her pocket. “But actually, the reason I brought us out is because of this.” She pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. “Want to have a smoke with me?”
“Is that what you grabbed from your car?” Sunset raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t. These are old. When I first got here I saw people doing it and thought it looked cool, so I wanted to try it, too.”
“That sounds like the start of a cautionary tale straight out of an antismoking campaign. Was it all you hoped it would be?”
“Makes me feel like shit, I get light headed so I can barely stand up, and I get a headache for an hour. And it turns out it could wreck my singing voice—which was a bigger deal then than it is now, I’ll admit.” She shrugged. “And, you know, they actually kill you. Want one?”
“Yeah, I’ll buy into your peer pressure.”
Adagio waved her hand dismissively. “Please. You’re just some random pony that turned into a demon one time. Big deal. I’m a magical beast of legend—we are not peers.”
“Excuse me—I’m the failed star pupil of Princess Celestia herself.”
“Oh, very impressive. I definitely take that back.”
Adagio opened her door and got out, and Sunset followed. Adagio leaned against the side of the car, but Sunset hopped up on the hood.
Adagio watched her. “Why are you on top of your car?”
“What’s the point of having a piece-of-shit car unless you sit on it sometimes?”
Adagio shrugged. “Whatever.” She followed Sunset up.
“This is how it’s done,” said Sunset, sitting on the top part of the hood with her back against the windshield. “Me and Flash used to sit like this sometimes back when—yeah.”
Adagio opened the box and took a cigarette out.
“Do I get one?” asked Sunset.
“Let’s just share this. I don’t want a whole one. Neither do you.”
“Kay.” Sunset put her hands behind her head. “So what’s with suddenly wanting to smoke?”
“We’re villains. And bad girls. Villains and bad girls gotta smoke.”
“Yeah, that’s what the tv tells me, too.”
Adagio put the cigarette to her lips and lit it. After a long draw she passed it to Sunset.
“If any cops drive by they’re going to think we’re smoking pot.” Sunset took a drag and coughed instantly.
“Let them come over here,” said Adagio. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“We’re supposed to be high school students. Most high school students are minors. Minors aren’t supposed to smoke.”
“I’m—what? Over a thousand years old, apparently?”
“I’m sure they’ll buy that. That’s what your driver’s licence says on it, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Yeah, right.” Sunset took another puff and passed it back.
Adagio flicked the cigarette, sending ash skittering across the hood, and then put it to her mouth. Her face and hair glowed as she sucked on the cigarette, then faded again as the ember at the tip of it did. She blew smoke from between her lips, which caught in the breeze and twirled away. For something that was as bad for a person as smoking was, it had no business looking as sexy as it did.
“So you used to date that Flash Sentry, right?” Adagio asked, glancing over to her.
Sunset blinked, and stopped staring. “Where’s this coming from?”
“You said you used to sit on your car like this with him.” Adagio took another puff.
“Yeah, I never really gave a shit about him, though,” said Sunset. “It was just for my image, back then.”
“So that makes Twilight your first human crush, then?” Adagio breathed out smoke. “Well, she was a pony-turned-human, too, but still.”
Adagio held the cigarette out for Sunset. The corner of Adagio’s mouth was turned up, illuminated in the faint glow. Sunset took the cigarette. It had almost run out. She could feel the heat of the ember on her fingers as she took it. She drew on it.
“Yeah, she was.”
She passed it back to Adagio, who looked at it, then ground the tip against the hood and tossed it away.
“I knew it,” said Adagio.
Adagio had a bit of an angled grin, but in the faint light Sunset thought she saw something in her eyes that didn’t quite match the rest of her expression.
“You’re not going to use that against me or something, are you?” asked Sunset.
“No, no. It’s safe with me.”
“Says the evil villain. Who smokes.” Sunset waved her hand out at where the cigarette had disappeared. “And litters.”
“Hey, I just used to mind-control people. You were the manipulative one.”
Sunset tilted her head. “True.”
They sat a minute.
“I do kind of feel like shit from smoking that,” said Sunset.
“I told you,” said Adagio. She turned sideways, resting with her elbow on the edge of the roof and windshield. “So if you’re into girls, that means I have a chance with you right?”
Sunset shrugged, and just sat there. A moment passed.
Adagio flicked her hand through the air. “Again, you’re supposed to have some kind of reaction to that. It just makes me seem weird if you don’t!”
“You’re definitely weird,” said Sunset.
“Whatever.”
Sunset put her hands behind her head. “Well, maybe it’s because you do have a chance with me,” she said.
“Oh no, you’re not turning this one around on me.” Adagio smirked and turned to lay back on the windshield.
Sunset laughed. “Alright, whatever you say.” After moment she sat up and swung her legs off the hood of the car. “Anyway, let’s get going. We got more singing to do.” She dropped to the ground.
“Yeah, okay,” said Adagio, following her.
They got back in the car and Sunset started it up. She put it in first, then stopped and put it back in neutral.
“Hey, I just had an idea,” said Sunset.
“You want to make out after all?”
“No! Just drop that already!” Sunset said with a laugh. “I was thinking about that Countess song—because it’s going to be in my head forever now, thanks to you—and I wonder if that’s the best song for you to try and sing.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, this whole time I’ve been thinking that you’d have to sing exactly like you used to—with all those vocal acrobatics and harmonies and stuff. But not all singing is about singing really well, you know?”
Adagio rolled her eyes. “You’re about to put on something that’s absolute trash, right? Like punk or something.”
“Yes, I absolutely am.” Sunset grinned as she reached over to the glove box. She looked up at Adagio as she leaned across her. “This is revenge for all that Countess.” She found what she was looking for and pulled it out, then closed the glove box again.
“Is that a tape?” asked Adagio, with her eyebrow raised.
“Not just any tape—it’s my own personal mix tape of my all-time favourite songs from this world. Well, so far.” She put it in her car’s stereo, which was one of the only things that still had a tape player. “Track one, side one!” She glanced at Adagio. “It’s a very fitting song for you and me, I promise.”
The song started, and Sunset jammed the car into first gear and started off.
“This sounds weird,” said Adagio. “Are your speakers that awful?”
“No, I just ripped it from the music video online—never mind!”
“Hang, on isn’t this—”
It was the unmistakable first verse of “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance.
Adagio rolled her eyes. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“That doesn’t sound like singing!” Sunset elbowed her “You have to sing it with me!”
“I hate you.” Adagio crossed her arms, clearly trying not to smile.
“That’s the spirit!” Sunset grinned. “That’s what emo music is about—hating the world and everyone hating you!”
“I don’t even know all the words.”
“Doesn’t stop me!”
Sunset rolled down the window. The drums kicked in, and Sunset sang badly and loudly along with it, getting most of the words right.
Adagio rolled her eyes again, but started smiling.
“Come on,” said Sunset, breaking off from singing. “We’re a pair of villainous high school mean girls. This is, like, our theme song!”
“Does that mean someone’s going to end up shooting us?” asked Adagio, raising her eyebrow.
“Yes. With Rainbows and friendship. That already happened to both of us!”
Adagio laughed.
“Oh, here comes the chorus,” Sunset said. “You have to sing it with me! And roll down the window so everyone can hear how awesome we are!”
“Okay, fine!”
The two of them broke into the song with at the chorus, singing wildly—shouting, really. Adagio’s voice was as bad as it had been, but yelling along with the song, she sounded just like she was supposed to.
Adagio was smiling. She turned to face Sunset, and they sang at each other ridiculously between Sunset’s glances at the road. They flew down the road, blaring the song and their vocal accompaniment to anyone near by, and possible those of medium-to-greater distances, as well.
It fell into the verse, and Adagio slowed the car little bit.
“Whoo, I was speeding there,” said Sunset. “Loud music—just makes you want to speed.”
“I knew you were a crazy driver.”
Sunset took a sharp turn, pushing them both to the side. “I can’t help it. I guess I’m just—”
“Don’t say a—”
“—a speed demon!”
“Why.”
Sunset started singing with the song again, and Adagio joined her. Sunset wasn’t entirely sure where she was driving, but didn’t think that was something she really needed to worry about that much.
“Hang on, hang on,” Adagio said. “ ‘Under your shirt’? Does he mean my boobs?”
“Yes!” Sunset laughed. “That’s exactly what it means! Just flash everyone—that’ll make them all pay!”
They two of them broke down laughing, giddy from the energy in the car and between them.
“Left there,” said Adagio.
“Oh, yeah, got it.” She turned right. “Shit.”
“What the hell was that?” Adagio said laughing.
“I know where we are now—we’re going to my house, I know the area! I just didn’t want us to get there before the guitar solo!”
“Oh yes, I can see why that’s really important.”
“All good songs have a guitar solo. That’s an immutable rule of this world that I’ve learned.”
“Using the word ‘good’ here is a stretch.”
“Gasp!” Sunset said the word. “MCR is amazing.”
They tore around the neighborhood, blaring the song out the windows as the guitar solo started, not pulling up in front of Sunset’s apartment until the song was finished.
They got out, and walked up to the front door, both doing an acapella reprise of the song as they did, as best as they could between bouts of laughter. Eventually, they made it through the door into a fair-sized apartment with mismatched but functional furniture.
“So how do you afford a place like this?” asked Adagio as they stepped in.
Sunset sat down on her couch. “Well I had a few bits on me when I first came to this dimension from Equestria. Uh, that’s the Equestrian currency—did they use those back when you were there? Anyway, Equestrian bits are made of solid gold.” She grinned at Adagio as she sat beside her. “Do you know what happens to gold when it passes into another dimension?”
“What?”
“Nothing at all.” She leaned over on the armrest. “We got a pretty strong currency compared to this world, I’ll say that much.”
Adagio blinked. Then her eyes went wide. “We need to get more!”
Sunset waved her hand through the air. “I feel like Twilight wouldn’t be able to let that slide. She has a position in the Equestrian government, you know? It’d probably mess with the economy here, and would draw too much attention to us.”
“More attention than evil monsters and demons appearing?”
“Are you kidding? It would take about a dozen more monsters and demons to draw as much attention as few solid gold coins would. I’m lucky I sold the ones I had without too much trouble—well I had to get ahold of a propane torch to melt them so you couldn’t recognize them, and then there was the part where I had to convince the guy at the ‘we buy gold’ store that they were family heirlooms—okay, it was a bit of trouble, but still.”
“You defaced the image of your Princess Celestia?” Adagio grinned. “You rebel, you.”
Sunset sighed. “It’s starting to run out, though. I’ll have to come up with something pretty soon here.”
Adagio leaned back. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
“Yep,” said Sunset. She reached down into her bag and pulled out her laptop, then got up. “So you want to try singing some songs?”
“Yeah,” said Adagio.
Sunset went an got her acoustic guitar, then sat with it back on the couch. “You want to try that Countess song?” She grinned. “Or how about ‘Teenagers’ again? I definitely know that one on guitar.”
“No, no, you promised me we’d work on the Countess song.”
“Ah, fine,” said Sunset. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
She pulled up the chords for the song, and they worked through it together, Sunset playing the chords and Adagio singing. They stopped frequently to work on certain parts.
“No, the interval is this,” said Sunset, separately playing two notes in the chord for the bar. “See, I’m pretty sure she’s just singing the third and the fifth, there, but it’s a minor chord. Hear that? The third is down a half-step than usual. It makes it sound sadder.”
Adagio frowned. “Saying that doesn’t help me sing it any better.”
“Well if I keep telling you things about what you’re singing, eventually you’ll remember it. Maybe. And actually it might help.”
“Whatever. Let’s just try it again.”
They worked at it for a while longer, and by the end, Adagio had the first bit of song sounding not too bad.
Adagio flopped down, putting her legs up on the couch. She nudged Sunset with her feet, messing up Sunset’s strumming.
“What?” said Sunset.
“I’m done now. Let’s stop.”
“Oh, alright.” Sunset leaned over the armrest of the couch to prop her guitar up against the wall. “Good job, actually.”
While Sunset was bent over, Adagio put her feet up on Sunset’s back, crossing her legs.
“Hey, watch it!” Sunset awkwardly reached her arm around her back to swat at Adagio’s feet.
After it was clear that would have no effect, Sunset stood up, Adagio’s feet slipping off to land back on the couch. Sunset quickly went to sit back down, forcing Adagio to move her legs to avoid being sat on.
After Sunset was seated, Adagio put her feet across Sunset’s lap.
“You are so annoying,” said Sunset, with a bit of a grin.
“I’m hungry again,” said Adagio. “You should order pizza.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“My phone is in my pocket.” She put her hands behind her head. “And my hands are behind my head,” she explained. “I can’t reach it.”
“Fine, fine.” Sunset leaned forwards over Adagio’s legs to get at her laptop. She tapped on it for a few moments.
Adagio kicked her feet up and down on Sunset. “Hey, why aren’t you calling?”
Sunset flicked Adagio’s toe, which made her stop. “I’m just ordering online!”
Adagio turned to her side, pressing the bottom of her feet to the side of Sunset’s leg. “That’s something which is pretty great about this world. You can go on this square thing and if you hit the right sequence of buttons, food shows up at your door.” She grinned, looking over at Sunset. “It’s almost as good as lackeys.”
“But it costs money for all that,” Sunset said, finishing with the computer and leaning back. “You still got to find some kind of job, somehow.”
Adagio groaned. “Don’t remind me. They’re always telling us in school to start getting ourselves ready for the ‘real world.’ I’m not looking forward to that.” She nudged her heel against Sunset. “Hey, so about ‘exchanging’ Equestrian currency...”
“Answer’s still no.”
“Fine,” said Adagio, sighing. Then she sat up. “Hey, let me put on some of the Countess’ old songs on. You need to hear them.”
“Alright, alright,” said Sunset, moving over.
Adagio put on a few songs, and Sunset had to admit that it wasn’t what she was expecting. They were bluesy and mostly free of any synthesizers. Then Sunset pulled up some old rock songs with blues influence until Adagio couldn’t listen to them anymore, and took over again. They sat shoulder to shoulder to better push the other out of the way to change the song to something more favourable until the pizza came.
Sunset went to get the pizza and sat back on the couch.
“Hey, I was thinking,” said Sunset, as they ate pizza.
“Yeah?”
“If you... no, when you get your singing back, we could see if we could get some gigs playing at coffee shops and stuff. I’ll play my acoustic and you could sing. We could make a bit of money doing that, maybe. Or we could even just busk.”
“ ‘Busk?’ That sounds like something painful.”
“Only occasionally. It’s when you play on the street corner and people leave money in a hat or whatever.”
Adagio raised her eyebrow. “That sounds like begging. Except with a guitar.”
“And that’s basically the music buis, as far as I can tell.”
“Well... sure. I would do that with you.” Adagio looked away. “But why? I can’t sing.”
“Yet. You’ll get it.”
Adagio sighed. “Maybe.” She lay back down and put her unfinished slice of pizza on the table.
“Hey, you’ll get the table all greasy.”
“But I’m done with it. And that’s the only place I can reach.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. She reached over and put Adagio’s half-eaten slice back in the pizza box, in the middle of a gap in the pizza, where it was far away from touching any of the pizza still in there. Sunset grabbed herself another slice and sat back down on the couch.
While Sunset ate, Adagio lay there.
“Why are you making all these promises to me?” Adagio asked.
“What?”
“You said you’ll help me sing, be my friend, and now that you’ll perform with me.”
Sunset looked over at Adagio, but couldn’t quite read the expression on her face.
“Why?” asked Adagio. “Is it out of pity?”
“No,” said Sunset. “I just want to help you out. I know what it’s like. I thought you could use some help, just like my friends helped me.”
Adagio closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “So it is pity, then.”
Sunset sighed. “That’s not what I said. Think of it like... us Equestrian villains should stick together.”
“Oh,” said Adagio, but she didn’t sound convinced.
Sunset opened her mouth to say something more, but Adagio cut her off.
“Hey, let me on the laptop again. I just thought of another song you should listen to.” She sat up and moved closer to get at the laptop.
Sunset hesitated a moment, then said, “Yeah, okay.”
They kept playing songs for a while. Some of the songs Adagio put on were worse then the Countess, but a few of them Sunset found she was almost enjoying, despite their lack of guitar solos. Sunset hoped Adagio liked some of the songs she put on, too, but she couldn’t tell if Adagio did or not.
Then Adagio stretched her arms up in the air, and leaned back. “What time is it? It feels late.”
“The time is right there at the bottom of the screen, you know.”
“Well I wasn’t looking then.” Adagio lay down sideways on the couch. “And I can’t see it now.”
Sunset smiled. “It’s just about one in the morning.”
“I want to go to bed, but I don’t want to go home right now. You should let me stay here.”
“Sure, that’d be fine. You want my bed? I can sleep here on the couch. But you look pretty comfortable here already...”
“No, no, let’s just both sleep in your bed.” Adagio’s face was hidden by her hair.
“Alright,” said Sunset after a moment. She got up and put the pizza in the fridge, and then went back into the living room. “You want to borrow—” she began, but Adagio wasn’t there.
Sunset went into her room, and found Adagio lying on the bed, on top of the covers. Sunset put a hand to her hip. “Do you want to borrow some of my pajamas?”
“No,” said Adagio from where she lay. “I feel like sleeping in my clothes.”
“What... does that even mean? Why would anyone feel like that?”
“I just do.”
Sunset shrugged. “Alright, if you say so.”
Sunset got a pair of her pajamas and went to the bathroom to change and brush her teeth. She came back and Adagio hadn’t moved.
“Hurry up and turn off the lights,” said Adagio.
Sunset rolled her eyes. “At least get under the covers properly.”
“That sounds like a lot of work right now.”
“You know what? I’ll just go sleep on the couch, after all.”
Adagio groaned. “Alright, fine. Look, I’m getting under the covers.”
After a lingering glance at Adagio, Sunset turned off the light and got into bed beside her. The covers, tented between them, left a gap of air on one side where they usually came down to meet the bed when there wasn’t another person there. Sunset flipped onto her side, facing away from Adagio, to make, at the very least, even contact with sheets on both of her sides.
The occasional movement from Adagio beside her was a little distracting, but she eventually felt herself starting to drift off. Then Adagio’s voice cut through the silence.
“Um, thanks.”
“What?” Sunset mumbled.
“For today, I mean. For forcing me to let you come over.”
She felt the sleep that had been so close slip back away. “Well, I wasn’t sure about it at first, but yeah, I’m glad I did, too.”
“Today... was a really good day. I haven’t had many of those in this world.”
“Well, there’ll be more. This is just the start.”
“Hmm,” said Adagio.
“What, you don’t think so?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Because it is just the start, you know.” Sunset rolled over but could only see the form of Adagio’s hair in the dark. “Hey, you want to eat lunch with me on Monday? Or everyday, if you want. I’m sure the girls would be happy to—”
“No, I can’t really deal with them.”
“What?”
“The Rainbooms. I don’t want to eat lunch with them.”
“Oh,” said Sunset.
“You should eat lunch with me, just the two of us.”
“Well, I could do that some days, but I’ll still want to eat with them, too.”
“Okay,” said Adagio. Maybe Adagio was just tired, but Sunset thought it sounded resignedly patronizing.
“You... don’t believe I’m going to be your friend?”
Adagio didn’t say anything.
“Today was fun,” said Sunset. “Why would you think I’d lie about wanting to be your friend?”
“I don’t think you’re lying—it’s just that I’m awful. You’ll get sick of me in no time.”
Sunset propped herself up on her elbow. “You weren’t awful today. Well, not since right at the start, really.”
“But I will be. And I’ll drive you away like everyone else.”
“You could try, I don’t know, not being awful to me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I will be. And you’ll leave.”
Sunset sighed. “Well, I do kind of understand what you’re feeling.”
“I doubt that.”
“No, I mean it. When I first made friends with the girls, I didn’t think it would last.” She looked over at the wall. “I thought they were secretly setting me up so they could get revenge on me, or were going to end up hating me, or even just get tired of me. It was a while before I could shake that feeling.”
Sunset reached over to Adagio, but just touched hair. She moved her hand around, but kept finding only hair.
“What are you doing?” Adagio asked after an awkwardly long moment.
“I’m trying to put my hand on your shoulder or something, but it’s like you’re all hair and nothing else!”
Adagio rustled around and reached over to grab Sunset’s hand in hers, and brought it down to rest on the bed between them.
“Keep... saying what you were saying,” said Adagio.
Sunset hesitated a moment, hoping they’re hands held together was as comforting to Adagio as it was to her.
“The world—at least this world—isn’t out to get you. That’s something that took a while for me to realize. Good things can happen without something terrible following right after.”
“Not in my experience.”
“Well that’s going to change now.”
“It’d be great if I could believe that.”
“Well, it’s only been one day. It just takes time.”
Sunset gave Adagio’s had a light squeeze, then let it go and rolled over. “Let’s go to sleep now. You’ll feel a bit better about it tomorrow. It just takes time.”
“But... there’s nothing keeping you here.”
Suddenly there wasn’t a airy gap in the sheets anymore. Something warm was against her. She could feel Adagio’s head set against the back of her neck and a hand lightly holding onto her shoulder, her arms against Sunset’s back.
“I bet in the morning you’ll wonder what the hell you were doing, and avoid me completely after this,” Adagio said, her words brushing through the back of Sunset’s hair. “I’m absolutely awful with no redeeming qualities. What, I’m just supposed to hope you’ll stay around me anyway?”
“Yeah, kind of. That’s kind of a trust, thing, I think. Trust is something friends do. It starts by trusting that when I say I want to be your friend, I mean it, and I won’t suddenly change my mind about it without warning.” She put her hand over Adagio’s on her shoulder. “But it goes both ways. I trust that you’re going to at least try not to be awful to me all the time.”
Adagio stayed where she was for a while, but didn’t say anything else. Then she moved away from Sunset over to her side of the bed, and Sunset felt air against her back again, stirred up by the movement of the sheets.
“I feel a bit better about it, now that you’ve said all that.”
“Oh, that’s good. I’m glad.”
There was nothing but the sound of their quiet breathing and the occasional rustle, and Sunset closed her eyes. Then Adagio spoke again, once more cutting through the quiet.
“So, being friends, you’ll help me out with anything, right?”
“Um, yeah. Well as best I can.”
“Oh, okay,” said Adagio, simply.
After a moment Sunset asked, “Well is there something I’m supposed to help you out with?”
“Oh nothing.”
“Hmm,” said Sunset.
Then, with a rustle, Sunset felt Adagio’s arm against her back again.
“What—” started Sunset.
“Is this okay?” Adagio asked. “Can I stay like this?”
“Uh, okay, I guess.”
She closed her eyes again. Then she felt Adagio hand trace down the length of Sunset’s side. Her eyes snapped open as a jolt shot through her.
“Uh, Adagio, that’s a bit...”
“Oh, too much?” Adagio asked, with a an edge back in her voice.
Sunset let out a breath. “You’re just messing with me.”
“Maybe,” Adagio said airily.
“Well if you’re back to that, that must mean you’re fine.” Sunset reached awkwardly around her back to brush Adagio’s hand away. “I’m going to sleep now.”
Adagio’s hand hand returned to where it was, but her palm open, pressed against Sunset’s back. “You know despite how cool you’re acting, I can feel your heart racing.”
“That’s because I’m so shocked at how weird you are.”
“Ah, of course,” said Adagio, with an audible grin in her voice. “Hmm, are you sure it’s not because you’re attracted to me?”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh come on, where is this friendship trust you were just talking about? I think you should be honest, here.”
“Hey, let’s just go to sleep now. I’ll play your games with you tomorrow.”
Adagio clicked her tongue. “Fine. You’re boring when you’re tired, anyway.” There was the rustle of covers, then a pause. “Because that’d fine if you did,” said Adagio.
Sunset lay there, wondering if she heard it right. “Uh... what?”
“I’m attracted to you, too. You’re as amazing and beautiful as I wish I could be.” Adagio pulled the covers up, partially hiding her face behind them though it was pointless in the dark. “And you know, I really did want to make out with you, in the car. But you’re too... and I’m—” She let out a breath. “I’m really bad at this.”
Sunset blinked, and then smiled. “Okay. In that case, you’re moving a bit too fast, I think.”
“Really?” Adagio asked, pulling the covers down to look over at Sunset. “It’s too soon for that?” It was hard to tell in the dark, but Adagio seemed to have an intent seriousness to her. “How long should I wait, then?”
Sunset almost chuckled, despite the situation. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s not really a time limit—it just depends on how things are going between two people, and then you try and get a feel for how—”
“That sounds really bothersome.” Adagio sat up. “If we’re both attracted to each other, why can’t we just start something more between us right now?”
Sunset did laugh at that. “Adagio, you’re a girl who knows what she wants, I’ll give you that.”
Adagio sat on her knees, and moved closer to Sunset. “So a little bit would be okay, right?”
The fact that Adagio was still in her t shirt and jeans made the situation seem really weird to Sunset, for some reason. As if that was the strange part of it all. Adagio put her hand against Sunset’s cheek. Maybe it was because it was late, maybe she was caught up in the day they’d had together, but Sunset was grinning, and almost couldn’t keep from laughing at how crazy it was. Adagio was cute, Sunset had to admit that. She felt like it’d be fun to just see what Adagio would do. Sunset wasn’t worried—it was sudden, but a bit of kissing would probably be fine.
Adagio leaned in and stopped an inch from her face, awkwardly hovering there.
“You are bad at this,” said Sunset.
“Shut up,” said Adagio, glancing away.
“So what exactly are you trying to do, here? Are you trying to kiss me?”
“Um, yes.”
“Like I said in the car—you could just ask.” Sunset tilted her head. “You know, instead of doing whatever you’re doing right now.”
Sunset could see Adagio blushing even in the dark.
“But... that would be weird.”
“This right here? Definitely weirder.”
“Alright, fine.” She had a scowl on, and wouldn’t meet Sunset’s eye. “Can I kiss you?”
“Just one quick kiss?”
Adagio let out a huff. “No. I want to make out.”
Sunset laughed. “There, was that so hard?”
“You are a demon.”
Adagio slowly closed the distance and their lips touched together. A series of light kisses blended into one. Sunset put her arms around Adagio’s neck, the frizzy curls of her hair tickling against Sunset’s arms.
The electric softness of Adagio’s lips was engrossing, and soon they were laying on their sides, and Adagio’s hands lightly held onto Sunset’s shoulders. She brushed her legs against the siren’s, sliding her leg up and against the other girl’s.
Adagio rolled so she was above Sunset, and parted from the kiss. Adagio opened her mouth to speak, but then gave on short laugh and looked away. Then she met Sunset’s eyes, smiling. Over a moment, Adagio’s smile turned more confidant. She traced a wavy curl of Sunset’s hair with her hand.
“I’m not worried anymore, now.”
“Oh?” said Sunset.
“Yes. This is the kind of reason I’ll believe in.”
Even through the dark Sunset could still see Adagio’s face was calm in a way it hadn’t been that day.
“What... do you mean?”
“With something like this, I can believe you’ll stay around me.”
Sunset turned her head to the side. “Adagio, is... that what this is about?”
“Well, not entirely. I also wanted to kiss you.”
“I thought—well I don’t know what I thought.” She let out a breath. “I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”
Adagio raised an eyebrow. “What? What’s the problem? You’ll stay around me now.”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“Sure it is.” Adagio brought her face down to Sunset’s and put a hand on Sunset’s cheek to turn her back to face Adagio. “I’m a siren, that’s exactly how it works.”
“That’s different,” said Sunset.
“No it’s not.” Adagio slid her hand down Sunset’s cheek, and then to her shoulder. “I’ve charmed you, so you’ll go through all kinds of trouble for me, even if I treat you terribly.” Adagio moved past Sunset, bringing her cheek almost against Sunset’s. “Except you want me instead of my song. It doesn’t matter if there’s no magic.”
“It’s not like that. It’s not like you have to do this.”
“I think I do,” said Adagio. “Or today will end and you’ll disappear.” Slowly Adagio brought her hand up, brushing against Sunset’s lips with a finger. “I don’t want that. I want you to keep helping me and spending time with me.” Adagio leaned in and put her lips to Sunset’s neck, and Sunset sucked in a breath. “So you get me,” Adagio whispered, her words brushing against Sunset’s skin.
“I-If you’d just give it a chance—take some time—”
“It’d rather just do this.” Adagio ran her hand down Sunset’s side, then across her stomach, edging under the hem of Sunset’s shirt. “Wouldn’t you?”
Sunset let out a short breath, making sure it didn’t turn into a sound.
“That’s not the point.”
Adagio slid her hand down Sunset’s leg. “So that means you would rather do this?”
“Okay, stop,” said Sunset. She grabbed both of Adagio’s hands by the wrists and rolled so she was on top, holdning Adagio’s hands pinned above the siren’s head. “Just stop.”
Adagio looked to the side.
“Today was actually pretty fun,” said Sunset. “I want to keep hanging out. I think it’d be fun if we did some songs together. And maybe if things go well, you know...” Sunset trailed off, losing some of her momentum. “Maybe we could end up somewhere like that.” Her hair hung down, falling against Adagio’s cheek. “But you’re ruining it.”
“I’ll ruin it anyway,” said Adagio, a distant look in her eyes that didn’t meet Sunset’s. “At least this had a chance of working.”
“No,” said Sunset firmly. “It’s just that this seemed like the easiest way out. That’s it, isn’t it?” Sunset let it hang, but got no response from Adagio. “You’re too lazy to actually try at something like this, when you could just manipulate your way through it without any trouble at all.”
Adagio glanced at Sunset. “Is that... how you see me?”
“Yes,” said Sunset. “That’s how you’ve always been, isn’t it? Easiest way out for everything.”
“That’s not it.”
“Oh, it isn’t?”
Adagio snapped her head around to meet the intensity in Sunset’s eyes. “There’s never been a hard way or easy way—just the only way. The universe—both this one and the other, and everyone from both of them—have been out to get me my whole life. I’ve had to manipulate and tear down everyone around me or get torn down myself. That’s the only way.”
“Well, it’s different now.” Sunset let out a breath and felt her should relax. “There’s another way—but it’s more work. If you want to sing again, and if you want, uh, something with me—being friends or something more than that—then there’s no quick way around it. There’s only one way to do it, but not the one you’re used to, I think.”
She let go of Adagio’s wrists and got off of her. Sunset sat with her knees brought up to her chin, beside the siren. “Yeah,” said Sunset, “I’m attracted to you, but it’s not the reason I did this today. I don’t think.” She rubbed the side of her face. “I... don’t know, actually. Maybe that was part of it. All this happened really fast—I don’t really have any idea what I feel.”
“Yeah, I can understand that,” said Adagio.
There was silence between them for a moment. Sunset lay back down.
“I... don’t know what I’m feeling right now either,” said Adagio, laying down as well. “I don’t know who or what I am. I’m something from another dimension, but even if I went back now I wouldn’t be what I was then, and I don’t even think that it’s a bad thing. I want to feel like all the worlds I’ve been to and the things that live in them aren’t trying to tear me down at every turn.”
Adagio rolled over and moved closer to Sunset, her hand against the other girl’s shoulder again. “I just feel like... I don’t want this to end right now. I want to fall asleep with you still there.”
“Okay,” said Sunset. She put her hand over Adagio’s for a second, squeezing it lightly. “You know, even if it’s not me, there’ll be other people that will give you a chance. You’re not totally alone, and I’m not your only hope.”
“Yeah,” said Adagio. “Maybe I’ll believe that eventually.”
“I told you—it just takes some time.” She put her other hand beneath her pillow, adjusting it under her head. “And for now, I’m here.”
Adagio mumbled, and didn’t say anything else.
Sunset closed her eyes, unsure of what to feel or how things would be, but as she fell asleep, she only thought of the comfortable feeling of the other girl’s hand lightly holding on to her.
