Blue Velvet

“Does the name ‘Scot Free’ ring any bells?” Honest Heart asked his boss one morning, the gentle scratching of the broom swept across the tile floor the only indication that there were, in fact, two living beings in the shop. Fertile Eyes affixed the smaller stallion with a curious look, pausing mid-sip of his morning coffee in a comical sort of way. There was nothing funny about the seriousness that befell the store, however, and Heart quickly regretted broaching the topic with the disagreeable pony. Before he could take back the question he’d dropped out of nowhere, Fertile spoke.

“Don’t suppose this has anything to do with why that mare ain’t been coming in lately, does it?” Fertile cautiously finished the last swig of dark liquid in his mug before trotting over to the PonyMate coffee maker at the end of the counter, pouring himself another cup. That mare could have only been referring to Coco Pommel, the mare whom Heart had seen beaten down in the market a few weeks ago, which he was worried may have prompted her sudden distance from the little flower shop she had otherwise visited with great frequency, to the point where her absence was noticeable even to the usually oblivious Fertile Eyes.

“W-what? What’s that got to do with anything?” Heart retorted, a little too defensively. Fertile snorted at him and rather aggressively tore into the box of artificial sweetener stashed underneath the counter, fighting with a small wooden stirrer that looked much like a toothpick in his oversize hooves.

“That right there tells me all I need to know.” With a little smugness, Fertile settled back into his usual perch, propped in the corner between the accent wall on the left and the checkout counter. “Yeah, I know of him. He and his folks own about half of Manehattan, and Cold Case’s good friends with his folks as well.” Heart grimaced at this, the grim depiction of deep-seated social corruption relayed to him by the sleazy market pony being affirmed right in front of him. Cautiously, Heart offered a macabre train of thought.

“Let’s say he were to… hurtsomepony? Like, in front of a bunch of bystanders”—the words sunk to the bottom of his mouth like lead—"he’d just be able to get away with it?” Fertile stuck Heart with a peculiar gaze for a few moments before erupting in a fit of laughter.

“Heart, you’re about as white as a ghost. Want to tell me what this is all about? Hurt somepony? What, did you see something you shouldn’t have?” Heart frowned bitterly at the sudden laughter and resisted the urge to reciprocate the older stallion’s condescending tone.

“I- Well. Yeah, I guess I did… and so did a whole lot of other ponies. The strangest thing is that it was almost like it wasn’t happening, like I was hallucinating or seeing something that nopony else was.” Heart quickly and painfully relayed the details of what happened at the market to his boss, who sipped his coffee and otherwise held a thoughtful expression throughout the explanation. When Heart finished speaking, he plopped the empty mug onto the counter with a sigh.

“...That sounds about right. When you’re as big an influential as a pony like Scot Free is, you tend to let that get to your head, and sooner or later you start to get bold and do things other ponies might look down on you for if you didn’t hold the power to ruin ‘em—and trust me, he’s got that power. He’s a lawyer, actually, but his family’s been here in Manehattan since the city was first established; if I remember correctly, those ponies were actually part of a small group of entrepreneurs who laid the foundation for Manehattan themselves.” Fertile went through the process of pouring himself another cup o’ joe, pausing only when he realized the pot was empty and that he’d have to make some more; he opted instead to return to his seat. “D’you want my advice?”

Heart nodded, swallowing carefully.

Fertile Eyes affixed Heart with a firm stare, shaking his head and waving a hoof back and forth in the air. “Stay out of it. That regular, Coco—she’s important and all, but you’re taking customer retention way too far. She’s not worth bringing that kind of attention to this little shop here. Can you imagine if Scot Free took some kind of personal issue with C’est la Vin? He could have this place closed down in a heartbeat, and both of us would be on our flanks looking for handouts. I don’t know about you, but I only like handouts when they’re given to me instead of begged for.”

Heart blinked, the unexpected suggestion to drop the situation and leave the poor mare to fend for herself somehow surprising to the young stallion. He knew that Fertile could be abrasive, and that he didn’t always treat him with the respect he felt he’d earned through his many thankless hours working at the tiny flower shop, but for him to tell Heart to just give up? Heart shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Celestia, you’re just like them. Is that just what Manehattan is? A bunch of ponies who are more worried about their own flanks than they are putting a stop to public domestic abuse? Seriously?” The sudden fit of rage left the older stallion unfazed, as if he’d heard this kind of thing before. Fertile attempted to chime in again but found that Heart was already making his way out of the shop, lest his anger cause him to say anything else and inadvertently get himself fired. He would have taken a trot or two around the block to cool his head before carefully apologizing to his boss, but as soon as he’d thrown open the door he found himself face to face with none other than Coco Pommel herself.

“Oh.” Heart said. He looked the mare up and down, noting that her bruises were gone, but otherwise remained silent.

“Um… hello?” Coco said. She blinked a few times, gazing past Heart to nod a respectful greeting to Fertile Eyes, who was too busy staring into his empty mug of coffee to return the gesture.

The complex emotional response triggered by the mare of the hour appearing right in front of him after disappearing for a week and a half made Heart a little woozy, and before he could even think about addressing the dozen or so questions firing off in his head the little mare cleared her throat before speaking again, this time with a bit more confidence.

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk with you—are you free after work today?” Heart stared, clearly puzzled at this strange turn of events, and a meek nod was all the affirmation he could muster. It seemed to satisfy, though, as Coco’s strange mixture of worry and seriousness dissolved into a small smile, and a girlish giggle escaped her. “Great! I’ll see you around…” She trailed off, clearly waiting for the stallion to fill in the blank for her. After realizing what she was doing, Heart turned to his boss.

“Er, what time do I get off again?”

“Four—four hours from now.” The older pony responded, seemingly resigned to his coffee-less fate.

Heart turned back to Coco and shrugged his shoulders. “Four, I guess?” Coco nodded, turning to prop the front door open with a hoof before addressing Heart once more.

“I’ll see you then!”

She’d gone just as quickly as she had arrived, and Heart slumped down to the floor, defeated. He’d all but deflated, much in the same way a balloon might when pricked by a needle, but before he could completely melt into a puddle of muddled emotions to be mopped up at a later date, Fertile Eyes spoke up from the counter behind him.

“You’re supposed to be off at six, but I figured you’d appreciate a break” He started, idly pushing his empty mug of joe around on the counter. “I expect this shop to sparkle like the Princesses themselves are visiting today before you leave.”

Heart found that for once he actually felt grateful to the older stallion, who wasn’t really known for spontaneous acts of kindness—he’d definitely give him an apology later. The younger pony spent the rest of the afternoon polishing every nook and cranny of the shop, regretting only that he’d be a sweaty, overworked mess during his date with Coco.

Wait, date?

The thoroughfare that was First Street cut through the middle of Manehattan like a large, well traveled line, and most of the city’s traffic could be seen up and down the street at almost all hours of the day. Such was the case when Heart had finally managed to pry himself away from work to meet up with Coco for… whatever she had planned. Despite having given him the rest of the day off, Fertile Eyes was more than a little reluctant to let the smaller stallion go without a considerable amount of effort being made to spruce up the shop. For such a rough-around-the-edges pony, Fertile sure had an eye for meticulous detail.

Heart had been waiting for quite some time outside of the shop, though. He had assumed that, with how frequent and reliable Coco Pommel’s patronage to the shop was in his experience, she would be a rather punctual and timely pony. After thirty or so minutes had passed, however, he started to worry.

Am I being stood up? Or, wait, is this some kind of setup where Scot is going to pop out from around the corner with two burly goons and break my legs? They only do that in books, right…? Heart nearly leaped from his hide when Coco disengaged with the evening mob and wandered into his field of view. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed what a fright she’d given him, as before he could even mumble out a feverish greeting she’d apologized thrice for her tardiness. After exchanging some pleasantries and eyeing the road warily, Coco set off in a direction Heart hadn’t often traveled, and it took a bit of effort to keep up with her during what was essentially rush hour.

Try as he might, Heart couldn’t really pry any details of their adventure out of the cream colored mare in front of him. At first, he thought she simply couldn’t hear him, but when he’d sidled up right next to her, she still opted to keep her eyes level with the road and drown out his questions with her own gentle humming. It was curious, but Heart kept his mouth shut—despite the unease he felt, it was nice to just… watch her.

Was that weird?

When the pair had cleared the thoroughfare and detoured through the open gates of the nearby city park, Coco spoke up for the first time since they’d departed.

“Have you ever met somepony you really, truly looked up to? Somepony who seemed to have all those desirable traits you wanted for yourself, yet was so humble and thoughtful that you couldn’t really be jealous of them for it; somepony who gave life to those dreams you had when you were a foal about being confident, saying what was on your mind and sticking to the stuff you believe in?” The question caught Heart off-guard, and though he had to stop and parse the question for a moment, his answer was nonetheless perfectly concise.

“No, I can’t say I have.” Coco seemed to accept the answer one way or another, quickly trotting down a flight of steps that led further into the park. Despite being smack-dab in the middle of a concrete jungle, there was a surprisingly vibrant ecosystem thriving within the green walls of Manehattan’s Community Park, which had escaped Heart’s notice for most of his time in Manehattan, being on the other side of town. Birds could be seen gathering twigs and snatching worms from soft topsoil, and chattering squirrels darted in between trees and up brittle branches to their precarious homes bored into the sides of great oaks. Of course, there were also a few fillies and colts playing around the sturdy-looking playground equipment that lay at the base of a small hill which sloped down to street level before tapering off before a sturdy fence which wrapped around most of the park, which brought a small smile to Heart’s muzzle.

“It’s not really that common in a city like Manehattan, right? It didn’t surprise me at first, but as I got older I started to notice that most of the ponies in this city all keep to themselves and only worry about what’s going to get them just one rung higher on the social ladder. No matter what, ponies here only think about what happens to them.” If she was bitter, Heart couldn’t pick the tone out of her voice, as she was level and calm throughout her speech. He wasn’t really sure what she was talking about, or what this had to do with where they were going, but he let her speak her mind, choosing to allow his gaze free reign of the nearby sights and sounds. They soon crested another hill, and Heart started to become painfully aware of how far they had traveled—the sun was going to set soon, and night would settle across the town before he could make it even halfway back across Manehattan towards his apartment. Coco startled Heart out of his thoughts before he could think too much more on the passage of time and the long trek back home that lay ahead.

“Well, I’ve met two ponies like that, actually: the second one is standing right in front of me,”==She tapped Heart’s chest lightly with a hoof, having halted their forward progress some time ago—“and the first is my sister—she’s who I wanted you to meet today.” The sudden praise brought a hint of red to Heart’s cheeks, and he quickly stammered out a dismissive retort.

“W=wait, you think of me like that? Coco, I dunno if you’ve actually met me, but I’m the furthest thing from… Confident? Honest? Passionate? I stack boxes of flowers all day, and that hardly has anything to do with my cutie mark—honestly, I don’t think anything has to do with my cutie mark, but that’s a rant for another day.” Heart frowned, immediately dismissing all of Coco’s previous points, but her smile held and she tapped the stallion’s chest again.

“I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit, Heart. Even if you don’t see it, I see those things in you, and it makes me really happy to know that there are more ponies in this city with gentle eyes and big hearts, just like my sister.” Heart held his frown, still not convinced of the mare’s undue praise, but his attitude went unnoticed by Coco, who had continued walking down a trail leading to the edge of the hill. He hurried to catch up with her, but hadn’t traveled far when she paused beside a peculiar looking stone, waving over it with a hoof. A stillness fell over both of them, and the shift in mood that passed as Coco stood beside the ominous, miniature obelisk was tangible. Her lips quivered and struggled to give life to her thoughts. Many times over the words died in her throat, and furthering Heart’s confusion she took a few deep breaths, her expression faltering ever so slightly with every attempt she made to speak. The stallion approached, concern soon forming on his face, but he’d only taken a step when she finally found her voice.

“Heart, this… this is…” She stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing with a pained smile. “This is my sister, Blue Velvet.”

Heart thought it strange at first, the way she’d avoided any specific questions as to their destination or the purpose of their visit, but as his eyes fell over the epitaph etched crudely into the stone tablet jutting out of the ground beside Coco, the spinning gears and whirring gyros in his brain gave way to understanding.

Coco’s sister was dead.

A lump formed in his throat, and he caught the slow twinkle of a lone tear cascading down Coco’s muzzle and onto the ground below, which rivaled the brilliance of the faintly glowing sea of stars just behind her—at some point, the sun had set, leaving behind a warm blanket of celestial presence that was barely visible above the glow of Manehattan’s artificial light.

“Heart...” Coco’s demure voice cut through the stillness that settled uncomfortably between them post-reveal of her sister’s resting place. “I-I know this is probably really weird, right? That I brought you to meet my sister out of nowhere, and took up most of your evening, but...” A sniffle broke her train of thought, and Heart realized that in the time she’d neem speaking more crystalline tears formed and splashed down the length of her muzzle.

Slowly, deliberately, Coco took a step forward.

Heart was silent, the atmosphere between the two ponies almost daring him to caution a remark towards anything the crying mare had spoken.

Another step.

The afternoon heat wave had long since faded into the cool embrace of the night, and with a pleasant chill the evening wind whispered through the verdant leaves of nearby trees and tickled Heart’s fur. Coco was only a few hoof-lengths away from him now.

One more step.

Unease had long since taken hold of Heart’s brain, but he held his ground and simply watched on as Coco slowly edged towards him, her sniffling the only indication of her feelings and intentions—she’d cast her gaze to the ground some time ago. When Coco was only a hair’s breadth away, she suddenly barreled into the blue colt, almost knocking the wind out of him. He managed to keep himself upright, but the shock and twinge of annoyance that shot through him was quickly replaced by empathy as Coco suddenly began to sob into his chest.

“I… I-I just wish I could be like her, and I m-miss her so much… I wish I were good enough, and that I could stand up for myself…” Heart could only watch on as the mare nuzzled further into his coat and shook with sadness at her own pitiful situation. At some point, the stallion had snaked a hoof around Coco’s back, tugging her closer to him as she erupted into a fit of stronger sobs and wails that were barely muffled by the now-glistening fur of his chest.

Heart wasn’t sure exactly how long they had been standing there like that, the many tears that had seeped into his chest fur having dried as Coco’s pained cries slowly faded into periodic sniffles. Coco craned her neck up to look at Heart, the puffy redness of her eyes filling him with an awful mix of pity and guilt. She mumbled something that Heart struggled to hear, and as he cocked his head quizzically to one side she cleared her throat and spoke again, this time with a bit more confidence.

“...Thank you. I really, really needed this. There isn’t really anypony that I can talk to, or vent my feelings to, or cry on anymore since my sister passed.” The soft gratitude that fell on Heart’s ears tinged his cheeks with pink, and he suddenly was quite aware that he had been hugging her for the better part of the evening. He pulled away, maybe a little too quickly, a chill passing through him as a speckle of wetness fell on his nose, prompting his upturned gaze and subsequent frown as he noted the dark nimbus shadows that had since moved in over the setting sun.

“Yeah, I get that, but uh… I think we’d better head out soon—looks like it’s starting to rain.” He gestured with a hoof to the darkened sky just in time for a booming thunderclap to electrify the air and illuminate the terrified face of the mare who had only just started collecting herself. Struggle as he could, Heart couldn’t help but find amusement in the way Coco faintly whimpered and edged a little closer to him, the warm rain beginning to bounce off of the nearby foliage and splatter their coats.

“...I, well. I think t-that maybe...” Her face expressed what her words could not, and Heart simply nodded before scanning the nearby area for a makeshift shelter. Through the bleak shadow that was cast over the hilltop, a sliver of moon shone down on a small clearing in the distance, guarded by elder oaks arching over a cluster of picnic benches nearby. Heart silently thanked Luna for her assistance and hesitated for only a moment before breaking into a steady canter towards the circle of old trees.

“Looks like we’re a little too late to beat the rain, but I think we should be pretty dry under those trees over there.” Coco hadn’t waited for Heart to finish, though—she sprinted past him and almost slid into the sheltered grove, coming to a shaky stop before turning to flash Heart a sheepish smile. It was strange to think that the very same mare who had nearly careened into an old picnic bench in fear of the present storm had been crying and wailing like a foal against him only a few moments earlier. He wasn’t sure how to take all of it, really—and he was even more disappointed that he hadn’t been able to actually say or do anything to help besides stand there like a fool while she poured her heart out to him. Anypony could have done that! He was all but kicking himself as he finally strode up to Coco, who had cleared off a space for him beside her on the bench she’d nestled herself into. Her legs were folded neatly beside her and dangled loosely off the side of the bench, but the uneasy smile that played across her muzzle told Heart she was at least somewhat comfortable.

Heart tested the wood with a hoof, relatively satisfied with the stability of the old bench before plopping down with much less grace beside the mare, who stared out into the buffeting rain with a wistful expression.

“You know, my sister and I used to come to this hill all the time when we were fillies. This was our little spot—where we could just be fillies and not have to worry about politics or impressions or what our parents wanted us to be.” She paused, holding a hoof out to cup a few droplets of rain before letting them run down her foreleg and drop onto the ground below. “Did you know that I’m a seamstress? I work for Suri Polomare, who’s a relatively big name in the fashion scene here in Manehattan. It’s not the worst job in the world, I guess, but...” Coco trailed off, her voice thickening with emotion as she readjusted herself, her ears flicking off wayward droplets of rain that managed to seep through the canopy overhead.

The two were silent, though Heart’s curiosity eventually won out and he cautioned a response after a minute or so of moderate rainfall and the gentle groaning of the ancient oaks nearby. “Buuuuut… but what?”

Coco snapped around almost instantly, the intensity of fury that burned in her expression a stark contrast from her earlier demeanor. “You know what? I’ll say it: I hate her! I hate Suri, and I hate making dresses! I hate every part of it, and if I have to make her another line of garments again I think I might just go crazy!” The sudden outburst startled Heart, who nearly fell off of the bench in surprise. Coco’s eyes went wide, her forehoof covering her muzzle as she whispered an apology before clearing her throat. “W-what I mean is that I really don’t like working for her. She’s an awful pony, and she works me to the bone without really paying me anything! The worst part about it is that she forces me to steal the designs of other ponies so that she can use them to boost her career.” She blinked, her tempered anger fading to a dull guilt as she spoke again with less gusto. “I guess I’m just as bad as her for going along with it, but I just don’t have it in me to quit. My parents got me that job, and even though we’re not really on the best of terms, I still feel like I owe it to them to keep up appearances.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad pony for wanting to make your parents happy, but sometimes you just have to realize that not everypony knows what’s best for you, and you have to learn how to get away and be your own pony—that’s what I did.” Heart wished he could believe in the words he spoke, but as he played them back in his mind he realized just how ironic a speech like that sounded from someone who had moved away and accomplished absolutely nothing. Coco seemed to be less critical of the advice, though she shook her head in disagreement.

“Sometimes I wish I could, but my parents have been working to build up their reputation with the socialites in Manehattan’s upper-echelon since before I was born—who am I to ruin that for them? My sister was more rebellious than I was, and they hated her for it. Now that they’re all I have left, I just… I couldn’t do that.”

The two ponies grew silent, listening to the quiet pitter-pattering of the rain as the evening grew steadily into night. Today’s events aside, Heart wasn’t sure what to think of the situation. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Coco, or what could be done about Scot, or really anything aside from the fact that Coco seemed to be holding up decently well for a pony who doesn’t have anypony else to share her thoughts and feelings with. It made him feel special, in a way, but also rang true with pained understanding at the shared sentiment of feeling alone in big, unforgiving Manehattan. His mind drifted back to that day at the market, and he swallowed the lump that had long since formed in his throat before posing a simple question.

“When you came into the shop a few weeks ago, covered in those bruises—that was Scot, wasn’t it?” Heart swallowed before continuing, the already unstable ground of his confidence crumbling away under the weight of his words. “I know it’s not really my place to say anything, but I think you should leave him. Nopony should have to deal with something like that.” When no response came, he was worried that he’d stepped on a landmine, but a cautious glance down at Coco’s still form revealed that she had, some time ago, fallen fast asleep. The gentle rise and fall of her chest coupled with the quiet whinnies that escaped her muzzle every now and then and the occasional stray kick off the side of the bench were enough to wash away the sullen mood that had settled over the two, replacing it with a comfortable warmth, despite the rain. Heart settled back into his seat and ran silent vigil over the bright city lights that flickered in the distance for a while before eventually succumbing to sleep’s throes himself.

Heart awoke with a groggy yawn and a frown, the brightness of Celestia’s morning sun penetrating his eyelids and scorching his retinas, which he quickly put a stop to with a raised forehoof. It dawned on him rather slowly that he was not, in fact, in his dingy apartment, but instead lying on a park bench somewhere in the the wrong side of Manehattan. A quick glance towards the morning sun told him that he would likely be late for work, if he even still had a job—with Fertile’s temper, he could never be sure. ‘He’s going to kill me for being late.’ he thought, rising from his spot on the bench and stretching out each of his limbs. Heart noticed that the spot beside him was empty—Coco must have left before he’d gotten up. There was a moment where Heart wished she’d woken him up, but he supposed having the extra rest was a benefit to his well-being, so he shrugged it off. Before making his way out of the park, Heart trotted up to the miniature obelisk that Coco introduced him to the previous night. Tossing a gaze to his left and right, he cleared his throat.

“Uh… Hey. Blue Velvet, right? I didn’t get a chance to say it yesterday, but… nice to meet you?” He put a hoof to the headstone, noting the many dried roses that were scattered around the base of the stone—he hadn’t noticed that last night. Under his hoof the stone felt cold and slimy, but he held it there for a few more seconds before retrieving it and wiping the morning moisture off against his other foreleg. “I work at the flower shop Coco visits all the time—the one she gets the roses from.” The headstone was silent, and Heart stared at the message etched onto the side of the stone, his expression growing dull and a sigh escaping him.

“...What am I doing? Here I am, talking to a dead mare at Celestia-knows-when in the morning in the middle of a park I’ve never been to. Can’t say it’s the strangest scene I’ve ever woken up to, but...” He muttered to himself and retreated from the stone, pacing forward to the edge of the overlook that provided quite a magnificent view of the city proper. As he scanned the horizon littered with high-rise apartment buildings, colorful department stores and corporate giants, he thought of all the Coco Pommels out there, struggling against the odds with nowhere to run and nopony to turn to. He thought of the Scots as well, those foul and corrupt stallions relying on their social standing to get away with everything but murder. As he turned away from the city skyline, and as he slowly twisted and turned down the winding path leading out of the green and back into the gray and brown, Heart was filled with a strange determination to protect that gentle, sleeping form that bore the burdens of a life led all alone in the big city.