A light blue aura enveloped the woolly scarf and Rarity proceeded to wrap it around her bare neck. She took one last look at the Carousel Boutique clock, hoping that miraculously she had made an error while reading it the last three times. She hadn't. Sweetie Belle was an hour and a quarter late coming home, and given that it was winter time, the sky had grown an unfriendly dark color despite it only being mid-late afternoon.
At first, Rarity had attributed her younger sister's tardiness to being kept after school, or perhaps having lost track of time while playing with her friends. But now Rarity was truly worried. The only way she had managed to wait this long was through an exhaustive inner argument with herself, thinking how easily it could've all been nothing. She'd thought that surely the little filly would suddenly pop in through the door safe and sound at any moment, chattering on about some happy occurrence that had delayed her. Now Rarity merely prayed that she wasn't lying unconscious somewhere...
Rarity's expression hardened. Just as she was about to leave via the shop's entrance, the handle suddenly turned and the door swung open. She felt the cool air from outside hit her in the face, and there stood Sweetie Belle in the doorway. The little unicorn filly seemed unharmed by all appearances, and Rarity breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her. Nevertheless, the younger unicorn looked none-too-pleased, her features rigid with irritation.
Well, Rarity was feeling a bit miffed herself after all the fretting she'd done.
The little filly stepped inside and closed the door behind her, then began to remove her woolen hat, scarf, and boots.
"Ahem!" Rarity cleared her throat. "And just where have you been?" she asked impatiently, giving her little sister a pointed glare.
"... Not now, Rarity," Sweetie replied drearily. "I'm not in the mood."
"The mood?!" Rarity retorted. "I have been worried sick about you! I was just about to leave the boutique to start looking for you!"—She pulled on her own scarf, the item proof of her statement—"I repeat, Sweetie Belle. Where. Were. You?"
"Look, I'm sorry!" Sweetie said angrily, her volume rising. "You can do whatever you want! You can even tell Mom and Dad! Just leave me alone!"
The little filly ran in the direction of the stairs, and Rarity caught sight of the glitter of tears in her sister's eyes as she did. She was crying? Abruptly, the older unicorn flinched at the resounding bang Sweetie's bedroom door made as the filly slammed it. Then there was silence, save for the ticking of the foyer clock, and a garbled meowing sound from Rarity's cat who had been startled awake by the loud going's on.
What just happened? Rarity asked herself, blinking.
---*---
Rarity stood just outside Sweetie Belle's door. She could hear the muffled sounds of sobbing. Presumably, Sweetie was now crying into her pillow. Rarity bit her lip nervously and turned the knob. She opened the door just a bit and poked her head through and into the room.
"... Sweetie Belle?" Rarity uttered softly. "... May I come in?"
Sweetie's sobs subsided and she removed herself from the pillow, sniffling. She didn't look in Rarity's direction, but answered simply, and without any discernible degree of emotion, "If you want."
Rarity pushed the door aside as she entered, approaching the bed only to stop within a few feet of it. The fashionista took a deep breath before speaking.
"I'm sorry," Rarity offered softly. "I didn't mean to shout at you, Sweetie Belle. I was just very worried. You could've been lying somewhere too hurt to come home or lost in the freezing cold. I was frightened, darling, and very upset. That was why I raised my voice to you. Please... won't you tell me what's wrong?"
Sweetie Belle sat up and hung her legs over the side of her bed. Still averting her sister's gaze, she sniffled and pat the space on the bed next to her as an invitation. Rarity walked over and sat down, waiting patiently for the little filly to speak. Several long moments passed before she did.
"I didn't get it," Sweetie mumbled.
"Didn't get what, darling?"
"... I didn't get the solo."
Rarity's eyes widened in recognition. Sweetie Belle had auditioned for a solo part in a local show. She had talked of little else all week, chattering on and on so excitedly about it. No wonder her younger sister seemed so upset.
"I—I'm so sorry, Sweetie Belle. I know how you were looking forward to that," Rarity said, rubbing the little filly's back in an effort to console her.
Sweetie wiped at her tears with her foreleg. "They—I wanted to know why I didn't get it. S-so I went and a-asked." The little filly looked up at her sister with tears in her eyes. "Th-the director s-said I don't have the talent, Rarity. I g-got my c-cutie mark for singing and... and..." She burst into to tears.
Rarity enfolded her sister in a loving embrace. "Oh, Sweetie. I'm so sorry. But that director doesn't know what he's talking about. You sing beautifully, darling!"
"I—I always thought so, but—"
"But nothing, darling," Rarity told her sister insistently. "You're a wonderful singer and that—that director is tone deaf!"
Sweetie chuckled through her sobs, eliciting a smile from Rarity.
"Y-you really think so?" Sweetie managed.
"Without a doubt, Sweetie. Sometimes ponies say that somepony else isn't very good at something, when all they really mean is that it's done in a way that they aren't particularly appreciative of - it's simply not their taste. Would it surprise you to know that there are ponies that think I make ugly dresses?"
Sweetie Belle pulled away from the embrace to look her sister in the eye, an astonished expression playing out on her features. "R-really? B-but you're the best dressmaker ever!"
Rarity chuckled. "Thank you, Sweetie. But I'm afraid there are many ponies who would disagree with the notion that my creations are 'fabulous', or even passable at best. You see, you shouldn't let ponies' criticisms hurt you or stop you from doing what you know you were meant to do. If I had stopped designing gowns simply because of a few negative comments, then I would have never opened my own string of shops, or have had so many ponies wearing and critically acclaiming my work."
Sweetie Belle blinked away the last of her tears and sniffled. "You mean that even though that director didn't like my singing, that doesn't mean I'm actually bad at singing?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying." Rarity smiled.
The little unicorn stared off into space for a moment, simply thinking. Abruptly, she turned to her sister and asked: "Rarity, would you like to hear the new song I wrote? The one I used to audition with?"
"Of course I would, Sweetie," the fashionista replied warmly. "And I know it will be just as beautiful, if not more, than all the others you've sung for me already."
The little unicorn filly beamed and hugged her sister tightly. "Thank you, Rarity. You're the best!"
--*--
THE END
*
Author's Note
December 2nd, 2018: Henceforth, please direct your grammar and spelling corrections to PM. Thank you. 
