The Fabrication in The Shadows

I sat at the counter in a crowded, musty bar, with my girlfriend, Twilight. A cacophony of voices and slurps resonated throughout the establishment at the same time as our conversation, the noise almost drowning out our voices. There were many people sitting, standing, drunk-walking (as I like to call it), and making strange sounds as they danced in a drunken stupor. I sipped wine from a small, curved glass as I sat with one leg crossed over the other, resting an elbow on the long green counter. I was facing Twilight, in mid-conversation, holding hands with her and staring into her mesmerizing, beautiful eyes (we were in our honeymoon stage, even though Twilight had lived with me for several months, since we'd literally just started dating the day before).

I finished off the remainder of my wine, and set it down on the table, exhaling in satisfaction. Then I looked up at Twilight and asked in an overly formal voice, “After our latest mission, what would you say our respective success rates are?”

Twilight looked at me with a perplexed expression while her lips were pressed to her glass. Then she caught on with what I was doing. She smiled mischievously as she raised her finger and closed her eyes, speaking in a purposefully pompous tone. “Well, Miss Sunset Shimmer, I would say each of our success rates are precisely 100%.”

I chuckled, then raised my eyebrow and said, “You’re really not gonna go into a convoluted mathematical explanation about it?”

Twilight blushed slightly, then stroked her chin as if she was contemplating, “Hmmmmmming” all the while. She tersely answered, “Nah.” But then she paused and added, “I’d do it for 100 kisses.”

We laughed together for a few seconds, then we were interrupted by both of our phones beeping to alert us of a notification, and several other phones around the bar made the same noise. We checked what it was about. I saw it was something from Horsebook, and I rolled my eyes. I knew almost anytime we got a Horsebook notification at the same time, it was another fake rumour about me. I was sad that I’d done things bad enough in the past to make others spread lies about me, but they shouldn’t have followed my bad example (the funny thing is, they probably didn’t even realize that was what they were doing).

I was right on the money. Before I even scrolled down to see the details, I saw a picture of me with an angry face. I said “Ugh” in annoyance and then I swiped further down the page.

Now, usually, the things people say that I do are pretty bad and absurd, but this.This took the cake.

On the left was a large picture of a bloody and badly beaten boy. There were countless scrapes and bruises across his face. I cringed at the gruesome photo, then looked to what was beside it. It was a video recording this beating I supposedly gave him. Surprisingly enough (though the camera seemed to be pretty far away), the person pummeling the poor boy did look like me, though there was something...different about the me in the video. I just couldn’t put my finger on what. The face of the boy also seemed vaguely familiar.

I shook my head to stop distracting myself and look at the writing accompanying the picture and the video. It said, “I got beaten up by Sunset Shimmer last week.”

That statement immediately sucked away a lot of the empathy I had for the boy. If he was the one who did this, he just straight up lied about something really horrible. The face of the boy which drew pity out of me not 5 seconds earlier seemed to now be mocking me. I considered the possibility that the whole thing had been photoshopped.

I looked up at Twilight, and she was staring at me worriedly. I was wondering why, but she spoke before I got the chance to ask. “This could completely ruin the reputation that you’ve worked so hard to build, Sunset! That video is really incriminating! The proof is seemingly airtight!” When I realized this, the appalled expression on my face must’ve alerted Twilight to how panicked I felt, and she continued in the most reassuring voice possible. “But there’s no need to worry. I’ll be here for you.” When she could see her words weren’t getting through to me, she placed her hands on my shoulders and said firmly, “We will get through this together.”

Twilight’s sincere speech made me feel slightly better, but I was still worried, and I bit my inner lip. I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was starting to have very dark thoughts about dealing with this boy violently, but I quickly shut the idea deep inside my head and took a long, deep breath. “I’m sure it’ll blow over soon enough. Let’s go. I’m tired,” I said, faking a yawn. I grabbed into my pocket and slapped some bills onto the table, then stood up, not realizing we’d already paid for our drinks.

Twilight didn’t budge. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re acting a bit...differently than usual.” Her furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips alerted me to how concerned she was.

I brushed off her worries with a "casual" smile. “I’m feeling great! A few strange looks and some whispers are nothing I can’t handle!” I said with a strained smile.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, unconvinced.

“Of course!” I answered in an over-the-top jovial voice. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s just the worst thing that’s happened to me in years!” I dismissed her concerns with a casual wave of the hand. I cringed inwardly at my acting and pushed back a sigh as I walked away from the counter, expecting Twilight to join me.

She sat still for a couple of seconds, but she did eventually stand up and follow me. As she did so, Twilight uttered under her breath, “This is gonna be a rough week.”