It's Always Sunny in Equestria
It's Always Sunny in Equestria
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
It was surprising the first time. And a few times after that, too, because she didn’t know she was doing it again – the déjà vu was a familiar face standing across the street, too far to see clearly.
But when she woke up that morning with a text from Flash - You free? Let’s grab breakfast.
– she knew he was going to break up with her.
“Can I say something?” Sunset asked.
“Can you?”
She continued. “I’m still hungry.”
Flash looked down at the hash brown in his hand, and so did Sunset. They then met eyes that both followed the hash brown as it slowly made it’s way to Flash’s mouth.
“Flash!” Sunset yelped, grabbing his wrist.
“Nnn-no!” Flash tugged to no avail, so he tilted his face towards the hash only for Sunset to hold him back by the chin with her free hand. “Sunset, just buy another one!”
“You do!” Sunset, with both hands occupied, swooped in like a bird for breakfast.
Except Flash had an arm free and used it to block Sunset off, his forearm generously her shoulder’s width. “But you ate more than I did so you can wait longer. Sunset!”
“Non comprendo, too hungry.”
The small tug of war stayed in a standstill, and while Sunset honestly doubted anyone else in the café was aware of it – they all must have their own thing going on at ten in the morning on a weekend – Flash, still laughing, gave in and said, “Okay, okay. We’ll split it. Bieno?”
Sunset sighed, but considered it a win. “Fine.”
“Okay. Can you let go of me now?”
Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t actually think I’m that gullible, do you?”
Flash dropped his mouth open and looked around the café. “You see this? People, do you see this woman?” They didn’t even notice. He turned back to Sunset, still incredulous. “What have I ever done to make you think I’d go back on my word?”
Maybe things would go differently this time. It felt different. She approached it differently, tried to control the flow of the conversation. “I could name a few.”
“Could you now?”
“I could.”
“You could?”
“I could indeed,” Sunset finished, and deftly leaned over his arm and grabbed the hash brown. Before Flash could even yelp, she took a bite huge enough to choke on.
Flash crossed his arms but smiled back when she shot him a thumbs up.
“That was nice,” Sunset quipped happily, but Flash smile had already started to slide. She was instinctively wanted to ask what was wrong, but she already knew, and suddenly her victory meal didn’t taste like one.
“Hey, Sunset?” Flash started, then turned his attention to the rest of the café. “Uh, listen. I need to be honest with you.”
Sunset touched his arm, tried to laugh it off. “C’mon, Flash, don’t get so upset. I’ll buy you another one.”
He looked down at her hand, brushed it with his fingers, then curled them and put his hand down. “It’s not about that. Look, I think – I’ve been, been thinking and – I’m breaking up with you.”
It felt new every time he said it, even if it felt the same: like the bottom was being pulled right from under her.
But they had laughed this time, played around. Not like the last times, not like the silence upon seeing each other, or the arguing and the blaming, or the running off.
Every time had all started differently, but it seemed they were all going to end the same.
“We should talk about this – “
“No, Sunset, we can’t talk – “
“Well it’s not fair if we don’t.” Sunset held firm. “It’s not fair that you get to decide it’s over without letting me say anything.”
Flash looked away – further away, he hadn’t looked her in the eye since they met up. “That’s not how it is. I don’t want to drag this out, that – that’s what wouldn’t be fair.”
Sunset wouldn’t give up yet – she tried that, and it didn’t change anything. Giving up never did.
She meant to keep her voice levelled, but it rose as she spoke. “You know what would be fair? If you remembered that I’m part of this relationship too, and I get a say in it, and dammit I’m saying we’re not breaking up!”
On that, she stormed away in a very old-Sunset-slash-Rarity fashion. She didn’t hear him say anything by the time she reached the door and couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or a bad one.
She turned her head just slightly to catch a look as she opened the door. She saw the rest of the coffee shop carry on without even blinking at what happened, and Flash doing much the same except for limply tossing a crumpled napkin on the table.
Following the last few rounds, Sunset had either gone to her friends or wallowed alone while binge watching sitcoms. This time, though, she knew the likely outcome.
To that end, she tore out of the café and headed towards a stature that needed investigating.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Naturally anger wouldn’t change things. But then anger didn’t solve much in ways other than revenge, which Sunset knew all too well.
“Sunset, just buy another one!”
“You do!”
Flash blocked Sunset off with his arm. “But you ate more than I did so you can wait longer. Sunset!”
“I don’t think so,” Sunset said, and forced a weak laugh at the end.
It seemed to catch Flash’s attention in the way she wanted, and he chuckled. “’Kay. Listen: how about we split it?”
Humour could work. But Sunset didn’t know much else than a dry humour. “Why would you break up something perfectly good like that?”
It must have been her delivery, or it must have been on his mind. It was written on his face, and it must have shown on hers too.
“Look, Sunset. I – you, you’re smart. You’re better at this then me. I think you know.”
Sunset dropped her hands but kept her voice level. “Know what?”
He hesitated. Sighed. “I’m breaking up with you.”
Sunset paused, taking a moment to collect herself. Hearing it a few times should have made it easier, but somehow Flash still managed to make it hurt each time.
“You can’t expect me to let you say that and get away with it. Again,” she let slip.
A hurt look crossed Flash’s face. “This isn’t like then. It’s – that was you, that was high school. This time, it’s me.”
It actually took Sunset aback, until she realised he wasn’t talking about the repeating days, but about their first break up. That, “That didn’t count much. Flash, we were kids then. We’re older, so we can talk about this normally instead of this whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bit.”
Carrying his whole body with it, Flash looked away. He held one hand by its fingers in his other. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Sunset. I just – I think it’s been over for a while. I think you know that, too.”
Evasive was the word that came to Sunset’s mind. “No, I don’t think so. Look, we were just right for the past half hour. Breakfast was great, things felt right, we were laughing and everything.” She leaned over and tried to catch his eye. “What was wrong with that?”
Flash turned his head to her but looked pointedly around her. “Nothing. It was great, and-and I hope as friends we could still do that. Look, I didn’t say it was bad, I just said,” he let out a ragged breath, changed his direction. “I like being with you. But that’s it.”
There wasn’t much Sunset could say to that. And she didn’t, for a long, grueling minute. Then, steadily, “That’s it, huh? You’ve liked being with me for three years, and that’s all you have to say about it?”
“No – well, not no. Yeah, I guess. That’s what I’ve been trying to say. I’m breaking up with you because of me. And – that’s all there is to say about it,” he finished with a bracing nod.
And, really, Sunset didn’t feel much like saying anything after hearing that. She leaned back, but stayed liked the questions. Flash, as promised, said nothing.
She didn’t know how much time has passed when she finally mumbled, “You can’t say that as if I understand.”
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
You free? Let’s grab breakfast.
Sunset flopped back onto her bed and buried her face into her pillow. She was pretty sure this was just a bad romcom with an unexplained supernatural element.
She and Flash had just watched a movie a few days ago – many days ago, technically. They were fine then. Why, then? And why wouldn’t it just end if it had to?
“No,” Sunset breathed out loud, because she knew she had to hear it. She was saving this relationship. For all she knew – for all she hoped – doing so was the key to ending this loop.
She just needed to figure out how to.
Sunset tossed her pillow across the room and carried that energy as she pushed off her bed. She took to her living room: a small little place that was also a kitchen in one corner, a cactus garden along one edge, and a pacing room in its entirety.
Sunset looked through her contacts – pointedly ignoring Flash’s text – and, after quick deliberation, called Twilight.
After three rings, she picked up. “Sunset? Hey, good morning.”
Had Flash sent her any good morning texts lately? “Hey Twilight. Were you sleeping?”
“Sunset, it’s almost 10. You know I can’t sleep past 8.”
“Yeah, I know,” Sunset sighed, and remembered the last three times Twilight had decided to just not sleep because ‘4 o’clock was pretty much 6 anyways’. “Hey, do you have a minute? I need some help.”
“Sure,” Twilight answered quick, “do you want me to come by?”
“No, could you just…like, follow what I’m saying as I say it?” Sunset rubbed her face. “It’s not going to make a lot of sense at first, but I need to hear things to understand them, and…yeah.”
“Of course! I’ll be your ears.”
Twilight was great with words, but not as great with idioms. It was a social thing, probably.
“Thanks, Twi.” Maybe it was because her mind was on it, but Flash never gave Sunset a nickname. He just said her name differently. “So, I wake up one day, and Flash breaks up with me.”
Twilight gasped, but Sunset waved her hands. “Wait, listen, remember? So, he breaks up with me, I sleep and I wake up and get a text that looks familiar.”
It was a consolidated form of events, but she needed to gather her thoughts before she could look into the details. “So I go see him again, and he – “
“Wait. Sorry – but wait, what did you say the text said?”
“It was from Flash. He sent me one before and that’s why I met up with him and he broke up with me.”
“Okay,” came Twilight’s unsure answer. “So he broke up with you over text? That’s not like him.”
“No, wait.” This was good, actually. It was sorting and organising the information. “From the top: I wake up, and Flash texts me to meet up for breakfast, and he breaks up with me when we see each other. I go home and go to sleep, and when I wake up, I see a text from him asking to meet up for breakfast.”
“Again?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so – no, okay. I’m up to your speed.”
Close, too many words. “Good. So I go to see him – oh, but, like, when I woke up I kinda forgot about the break up.” It felt like waking up from a bad dream. Hazy for a few loops.
“But then Flash broke up with me again, as if he never did before. So when I wake up again and see the text again-again, I know its not in my head.”
Sunset waited for it to sink in, and Twilight followed up after a few moments. “Can I ask something?”
“Shoot.”
“I might be jumping the gun here, but do you think you’re repeating days? Like, restarting them from a fixed point in time?”
“Right! In both ways! I thought I was going crazy there for a while.”
It was relieving to know that Twilight understood, and that, though just an assumption, the world didn’t reset when she revealed the truth of the loop.
“Is this Equestrian magic?”
“Probably,” Sunset agreed, resuming her pacing.
“Hmm…it doesn’t seem to be affecting me – but I guess since your perspective is where the fixed point is, I wouldn’t be able to.”
Sunset recognised that lilt in Twilight’s voice; she was about to go to town on a new theory. “Listen, Twilight, before we talk technicalities, could we try to get me out of this thing?”
“Oh, right. Sorry!” But Sunset was sure she heard hasty paper flipping. “Did you ask Princess Twilight about it?”
“I tried,” Sunset groaned, stopping at the bookshelf with her diary. “But yesterday the Princess left me a message saying she’d be out on a mission for a few days, and that she’d lock down the portal to prevent any magic from escaping while she was gone.”
“Irony,” Twilight remarked simply.
“Yeah. And I checked out the old statue at high school but got nothing. I can’t find any traces of magical interference anywhere.”
“Hmm. Well maybe – ”
The phone buzzed with static. “Hey, Twilight? Sorry, didn’t catch that.”
“ – find – condition, sort of like in programming.”
“Twilight?”
Sunset was about to hang up and call again when Twilight’s voice came back. “Sorry, I’m just boarding the train, might lose connection. I’m goi – quick, I think you need to fulfill the continue condition. It probably has to do with the breakup. Ask Rarity to – “
The line went dead after that, but Sunset felt like that was about what she needed.
So maybe the time loop was repeating on account of a condition not being met – and, given the one condition that remained the same across resets, Sunset and Flash’s relationship seemed to be pivot point.
Well, that settled it; she had to work things out with Flash. And since she hadn’t been able to to it herself thus far, she needed to call in the cavalry.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Rarity held half the length of her hair in her hands. “I should cut this all off.”
Great, the one day Sunset was stuck on had to be the day Rarity was in a crabby mood.
Sunset sat on the couch in Rarity’s room with an hour’s worth of discarded clothing blanketing her. And while Sunset technically had all the time in the world, confirmation pending, Rarity acted as though she did too, tossing her hair in a cycle of twelve different ways.
“Today is simply not my day,” Rarity huffed. Sunset felt that. “I’m going to cut this all off. Saves me the trouble, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sunset wondered if maybe she should too. If it ended up permanent, it wouldn’t be too awful to leave the loop with a new haircut. And anyway, girls got haircuts after bad breakups, and this one confidently took the cake on Bad Breakups of the Century.
“Did you get gum stuck on it?” Pinkie asked, slipping over the spine of the couch and hanging by her stomach. Sunset had called her over forty minutes in hopes that her impatience would get them out of the house faster and onto Sunset’s problem, but Pinkie seemed content throwing herself like a blanket over every surface in the room.
Rarity answered without looking away from her vanity mirror. “No. Today feels like a day for change.”
Sunset felt that hard. If Rarity could finally choose a look for the day – any of which would look great, because Rarity just had that talent – Sunset was certain Rarity’s insight could really help her with Flash.
“Do you want me to get gum stuck in your hair?” Maybe Pinkie learned that a lot of what she said needed a bit more explaining, because she matter-of-factly added, “It would make your choice easier.”
“That it would,” Rarity humoured.
Pinkie slithered down a bit until her toes were level with Sunset’s nose. Sunset got a whiff of the most artificial rose scent and decided she had the couch first and thus had the right to choose who's feet were where.
Casually, covertly, Sunset tickled Pinkie’s foot and said to Rarity, “I think change is good.”
Sunset didn’t hear what Rarity said next; she only heard Pinkie’s snorting before getting a solid punch from those rose-smelling toes. “Blegh – Pinkie!”
Pinkie landed on her head and stayed on it, using her hands to balance her and hair as a cushion. “Ack! Critical hit from Sunny! How’d you know my weak spot?”
Rarity finally pulled her attention away from herself and laughed a little. “Isn’t any form of laughter your weak spot?”
“Except the goodbye kind!”
“As I was saying, Sunset.” Sunset turned to her, rubbing her nose. “First of all, just desserts served by the best baker, wouldn’t you say?”
“If you don’t buy her better nail polish, I will.”
“Second: what is this with change, darling? Are things not going well with your beau?”
Sunset recoiled just a bit. She wanted help, but she didn’t want it unexpectedly, and she especially didn't want it to be that obvious. “What?”
“Things just seem different between you two lately. Rough patch?”
“No,” Sunset denied quickly. She didn't lower her hand, didn't trust her face not to give away the extent of her troubles – because she didn’t need to lay all her magical problems on her friends when doing so didn't help the main cause. “I mean, I don’t think so, but I sort of think he’s…I don’t know.”
She felt even less sure when Rarity’s tone stayed flat, like this was just another outfit that didn’t match. “That’s not very much to go on, Sunset.”
“Guys, am I still upside down?”
She at least wanted to try once to put space between her personal, Equestrian-blooded problems and her personal, Person problems. If that didn’t work, well, she had to try again, whether she liked it or not.
“He’s just not telling me what the problem is.”
Rarity ran her hand through her hair again. “But there is one?”
The text every morning said so. “Well, what do you think? You see things from the outside, so maybe…”
“Guys?”
Rarity leaned her hand against the vanity surface, but knocked an eyeliner pen off it. She snorted and ignored it. “Darling, if you’re coming to me for couple’s therapy, I’m going to need you to at least book an appointment beforehand.”
“I can’t, Rarity. That's why I came here now – I just didn't expect to have to wait on all this." Although Sunset knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it left her mouth.
“Oh, so sorry I can’t drop everything at your beckoning to help you when you think something might be wrong.” Rarity gave a half laugh. “But next time you think your phone network might be down, I’ll most definitely lend my services immediately.”
“Rarity, please just listen.”
Sunset didn’t see if Rarity’s stone expression changed. She saw something out of the corner of her eye and flinched out of the reach of Pinkie’s landing foot.
Pinkie’s heels hit the couch with a bounce, and she removed them from underneath to land sitting. “Pinkie be nimble, Pinkie be quick! And Pinkie hears Rarity being a di – ”
“Finish that sentence, Pinkie, I dare you,” Rarity snarled evenly.
“ – stinct person who shows signs of something up her that seems to be a stick.”
Sunset couldn’t help but stare at Pinkie because – damn, that was something. Pinkie’s smile stayed wide and toothy, and Sunset chanced a glance at Rarity.
She was pinching the corners of her eyes, but under her hand Sunset saw a reluctant smile. “Pinkie. To anyone who ever claimed you were in anyway short of intelligence, I hereby dub them eternally incorrect.”
“Thanks!” Pinkie quipped, shimmying in her seat. “Sorry if I was a harsh-larsh, but I still think about the time you chewed out that catcaller by the burger place and I’ve been trying for so long to reach that peak of funny!”
That put Rarity into a messy fit of giggles that Pinkie quickly joined. Sunset awkwardly chuckled herself, a stranger to the joke, as the two shared shreds of the memory between debilitating laughter.
“I remember that,” Rarity finally managed to say, wiping the tear out of her eye and smudging her under eyeshadow. “That was a good day. Well, it was a bad day then, but looking back, it was a good day.”
Pinkie sank back into the cushion and sighed, “Yeah.” She turned to Sunset. “You see, sunny? Laughter is the best medicine for unhappy lassies. Or lads! And I still think you and Flash are the lass and lad made to be together for happily ever!”
In suit of Pinkie, Sunset leaned back too, but didn’t say anything.
“She’s right,” Rarity added. She walked over the to the two of them and put a hand on Sunset’s shoulder. “Laughter, and especially laughter over remembering the things you shared. Good and bad. And – sorry. It hasn’t exactly been sunny with cherries on top for me lately, and you know I’m almost as petty as I am pretty.”
Sunset smiled, feeling that like it was a rose-smelling kick in the face. “Thanks, guys.”
“Always and forever!” Pinkie sang, jumping off the couch, slipping on a shirt upon touch down, and falling face flat. “Acky-ack!”
Sunset got up to help, and Rarity’s hand weighed a bit heavier on her shoulder.
In a whisper, Rarity said, “But you would do good to give Applejack a call for advice, too,” before removing her hand and buzzing about Pinkie ruining a perfectly ordered chaos.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
“He’s sayin’ he wants to break up wit’ch’you, but he’s sayin’ he don’t wanna say why? That just ain’t fair game.”
“Exactly!” Maybe it was easier to understand things over the phone. Maybe she should let Flash try and break up with her over phone. “And I keep telling him that we could get through it if we talk about it, but he just clams up and – ugh. I get frustrated, sorry.”
“It’s your right t’get frustrated over this. Relationships are all about being open and honest. And it don’t do any good to be just one of those things 'cause they depend on each other.” Sunset heard something fall in the background. “Just like leaning shovels depend on walls to hold ‘em up.”
Applejack knew what was up. Something about her always had that big sister vibe, which was entirely different from the aware air Rarity had. “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”
“Sugarcube, we’re two pees in the only sensible pod around these parts.”
Hearing Applejack say things in the Applejack way pulled at Sunset. She sighed lowly. “AJ, I wish you were here. For so many reasons.”
Behind more rummaging, Sunset heard Applejack chuckle, and it was just another thing she missed about her. “Are you sure you ain’t lovesick after the wrong person?”
“What can I say? Distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Which could have been an option for her and Flash if she weren’t the only one allowed to remember the distance every time it reset.
Sunset put away the peering idea that she still didn’t understand the meaning of this loop at the back of her head, and it stayed there like an out-of-place vase.
“Woman, ain’t no way I’m better for you than Flash. It’s been a while, but I do know a good man when I see him.” Which was different from knowing a bad man, because Applejack had the worst luck catching people who were worse exes than partners. “Remember when he started wearing leather jackets so that when he gave it to you t’wear, you’d still look like you, and Dash kept makin’ fun of him? Boy didn’t even bat an eye, prob’ly ‘cause he knew his heart was where it should be.”
Sunset wanted to add that she did him a service, because he looked way better in leather jackets than in varsity hoodies, but sighed instead. “Yeah, I remember. But – that doesn’t mean he can break up with me and act like it’s another favour from him!”
“I’m on your side with this, honey. If’n’it were me, I’d wring him like a shirt for just walkin’ out like that. But I just think you should know that when you do that, its for something worth tusslin’ for.”
A wide smile came unbidden to Sunset. It felt great after so many days of being wrung dry with uncertainty to be understood so seamlessly, and listened to by someone who just gets it, and –
– maybe she was getting lovesick over Applejack. Which wasn’t a bad thing except for the fact that all of Applejack’s exes were the crummiest thing and half the reason she moved five towns over, and Sunset wasn't about to risk adding to that.
Besides, she still had Flash. He technically hadn’t broken up with her yet, not permanently. “It’s like your reading my thoughts, AJ. And I really needed to hear them from someone else – reassurance, you know? So thanks. Thanks a bunch. Come visit soon so I can thank you right, ‘kay?”
A whiney and some static came through the speaker. “Thought you might wanna hear your kin back you up, heh. You horse folk are stubborn, I'll tell you that. Anyway – sugar, you can bet your pretty little head that I’mm’a be comin’ round there real soon, and I can try an' put in a rush order t’help you if y'need it.”
“Not like that. I just want to see you again.” Just wanted things to be right again. “Don’t worry about Flash and I, we’ll work this out.”
More horse noises that almost drowned Applejack out, so Sunset pulled her phone away from her ear. “You sound sure. What’s your plan?”
Sunset looked at her home screen; behind the apps and the clutter was a photo of her and Flash on Christmas. She couldn’t remember who took the picture, but she remembered the feelings from that day.
She brought her phone back to her ear. “I’m going to remind him about all the good things we have. So even if he doesn’t tell me what’s up, he’ll know that we’ll want to laugh it off.”
Applejack’s voice didn’t come instantly, and Sunset worried for a moment that the line was cut. “…that’s all good, but maybe save the laughter for later. He might feel like you aren’t taking him seriously. And you do mean to be serious now, right? That's why y'all got back together even after everything that went down in high school.”
There was an unspoken question there: was she staying because she wanted to, or because she an ends to meet.
Sunset couldn’t completely separate the desire to escape the time loop from her desire to stay with Flash, not after it had taken over her life so completely. But when she let herself think about it, the first thing that came to mind – all the things great she wanted Flash to remember about them – she felt a little more reassured in where her intentions lay.
And that she wanted Flash to feel the same.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
“Hey, Flash?” Sunset started, drawing his attention away from the last hash brown. “Bro-yo.”
As expected, Flash snorted into his coffee. Stifling a laugh, he said, “Bro-yo want a – “
“ – no-yo fro-yo,” Sunset finished in sync with him, and laughed when he did.
When they collected themselves, Flash asked. “What brings that up?”
Sunset frowned innocently and swept up his hash brown. “Just thinking about the good times.”
“Hey…”
“Remember that time when you nearly punched Rainbow Dash because you thought she was hitting on me?” Sunset managed around a mouthful.
“No,” Flash argued, grinning at the thought, “I remember telling someone who looked like a guy to stop tickling you, and then realizing it was Rainbow Dash. I was trying to protect you.”
“I mean, I can’t blame you. She really did look different with that pixie cut.”
Flash nodded. “Like a bro-yo. Haha.”
“Remember when Pinkie found out we got back together again?” This was one of her favourite memories; she was cracking up just thinking about it. “And she got AJ and Rarity stuck in that elevator with the cupcakes, and you and I went to – “
“Sunset, wait.”
Sunset did. “What’s up? I got it wrong again?”
Flash shook his head and kept his eyes on the table. “No, I just – listen, I don’t want to lead you on. But I wanted to talk to you.”
All Sunset could ask herself as the her stomach dropped was where she went wrong this time. “Yeah, let’s talk. What’s your favourite memory of us?”
He paused, weighed his words. “Any of them, Sunset. All of them. But – look, I’m – I think I should tell you I want to break up.”
Sunset was sure this one hit hardest. “Still?”
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
She’d spend today at home. She needed a day off. She wasn’t missing much.
Okay, hold up. That wasn’t the attitude she was supposed to have if she was going to blow off everything today without feeling guilty.
So she tried again.
Screw it. She’d spend today at home. She deserved a day off.
First step was airplane mode, then Sunset grabbed a few snacks and rifled through all her cabinets until she finally found some pop – she wasn’t even going to step outside today – and stuffed it in the freezer near the ice box.
Then, with the exception of the periodic bathroom break, Sunset spent the day, in its entirety, playing through the storyline of every motorcycle racing game she had in her collection: a guiltily proud twenty-five that spanned across three systems.
Some had guns and some had cards, which changed things up a bit, but for the most part they played the same: Sunset cursed when she came just short of the speed round, or would spend a while trying to sit comfortably when one of the older games glitched and she had to reset.
Finally, after an anticlimactic race in the desert, Sunset tossed her controller on her pillow as the screen lit up with poorly rendered fireworks that shone bright in the unlit room.
“Hell yeah,” Sunset yawned. She stood up, waited for the blood to redistribute and her vision to clear of random dots, and stretched her arms out wide. “Hell yeah!”
Sunset wasn’t deterred that no one was there. She did a small victory jig along with the music, and then turned the TV off and flopped on her bed. She moved her controller back to her desk and pulled out her phone.
“One already? Jeez.”
A part of Sunset felt crummy as it accepted the fact that she spent the whole day inside and away from everyone, but she deserved some time to herself, even if there were better ways to spend it. What was the point of time if you couldn’t waist some of it?
Sunset rolled over and felt suddenly too drained to get back up and change into pajamas, but also completely not in the mood to sleep.
She looked back at her phone.
Weird. It was past midnight, and the date on her phone had changed. She also checked to see Flash’s text sitting unread, a day old.
Had she…had doing almost nothing ended the loop?
Sunset pushed herself upright, and lazily let herself back down. It was bubbling nervousness, an energy tempted to come spilling out at once but wasn’t all too much to begin with.
Well. Screw it. She’d stay awake until the morning. For all she knew at this point, it could be sleeping that reset the day.
But she did have to agree with the doubt in her mind: wishful thinking was just that.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Sunset woke up, but didn’t remember falling asleep.
She reached for her phone – it sat on her table like the other days, not on her face where she would have dropped it after knocking out.
You free? Let’s grab breakfast
“Ugh,” Sunset groaned and tossed her phone across the room. She didn’t even have it in her to regret that – hell, if the loop didn’t reset just to spite her after breaking her phone, it was the price she was willing to pay.
A few minutes of grumpily mumbling later, Sunset got out of bed but stopped at her desk, where her controller sat neatly.
Screw it. She had time, and she had too many games she wanted to play but too lazy to. Even if it was a bit of a bummer that half of those games were introduced to her by Flash.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Rainbow stuffed her phone into her back pocket, except missed entirely and it clattered to the ground.
“Crap.” Rainbow kneeled and dusted it off her knee. “Dude, this phone’s gonna call the cops on me with all the abuse I’ve put it through.”
Sunset winced and touched her protectively cased phone in her jacket pocket. “Consider bubble wrap?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes as they started walking down the boulevard again. “Ha-ha. You know, I was gonna be cool about this but now I’mma just sayin’ it: what’s up with you and Flash?”
Sunset nearly tripped. No way; Rainbow Dash couldn’t read the feelings off Sunset’s face if it were written in permanent marker. “What? Where – what?”
“Flash texted me after he saw my status update.” Rainbow pointed to the video playing on the cracked screen – Sunset and Dash doing tricks on the finger skateboard in the toy store. “Said you weren’t talking to him?”
“That doesn’t mean he has to talk to you instead,” Sunset scoffed. “Besides, it’s not like I’m not talking to him. I was just busy this morning.”
“Doing what, skipping out on your boyfriend to hang with me? Flattering.”
It was Sunset’s turn to roll her eyes. “You wish.”
“I really don’t, my dude. You know I got a strict no-dating-friends policy. I hafta deal with enough of your drama just hanging around you guys.” She waved her hands up defensively. “Soarin and Shy have been driving me whack and they don’t even got any drama.”
Sunset kicked a pebble on the sidewalk. “That must be nice.”
Rainbow sighed loudly and pulled out her phone only to put it away after unlocking it. She sighed again before saying, “You know why Shy and Soarin still come to me when they don’t even fight? It’s ‘cause Shy – you know Fluttershy, she doesn’t like talking. Like – ”
She pulled out her phone again and swiped her thumb over it distractedly – new age fidgeting, Sunset thought, bemused.
“Shy and Flash are kinda similar, you know? Aside from the fact that they have great taste in best friends. They don’t wanna talk to be heard, they just – wanna be heard. I don’t know if there’s like a word for it but – d’y’get me?”
Sunset shrugged. “I get that, but they can’t stay quiet all the time. Communication is important, and some things just need to be heard.”
“Well, yeah. Totally.” Rainbow motioned with her hand and almost dropped her phone. “Crap – look, you’re right, I keep telling Shy the same thing. And you know what? Somedays she gets it and she talks to me, and somedays I just try again tomorrow.”
Not everyone could try tomorrow. “Guess Fluttershy’s the kind of person that eventually comes around.”
Rainbow opened her mouth in mock disbelief and looked around at the people passing by. “You guys hear this? Is she for real?”
She looked like Flash just then. Or, Flash had looked the same as her, just then.
Neither made Sunset feel much better.
Rainbow looked back at Sunset in contrasting spirits. “It took me like twelve years to get Fluttershy outta her shell.”
“I only got three. Four if you count the year we dated in high school.”
“No one counts that.” Rainbow shook her head and chuckled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You know what’s weird? Some people are just, like, a good fit for some people. Soarin’s frickin’ slow in the head and he only met Shy a few months ago, but she’s already telling him things I’ve never heard her say. You an’ Flash could prolly fit right like they do, be the person you go to when you need to be under – ah, understood. That’s the word. Hah.”
The dull, small part left of Sunset’s past stirred; it would have been easy to comfort her own jealousy by making it look small against Dash’s own vomit-green.
But that was an instinct too old to be much more than a reminder. Sunset nudged Dash with her shoulder playfully and offered a half-grin. “Hey, as far as I can tell, everyone still counts on you to chill with them when they need it. It’s what I’m doing now, right?”
Rainbow gave Sunset the other half of a smile. “’Course. I’ll always be the coolest dude.”
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Flash blocked Sunset off with his forearm and smiled while he protested. “Sunset, just buy another one!”
“You do!” Sunset said, and waited on him.
“Okay, okay. How about we split it?”
“Good idea,” Sunset laughed easily, her smile at him lingering.
Flash’s smile widened back reflexively. He paused, then said, “Are you gonna let go of me?”
“Not yet,” Sunset said lowly, then leaned over his arm, almost standing now, and rested a kiss just above his lower lip – which, for someone who claimed not to have eaten much, had a generous sprinkle of hash crumbs.
Sunset wanted to think it was because he wary of a ploy for his breakfast that Flash didn’t do much else in response then shift back a little. It wasn’t very convincing, though, and she eased away, lost her balance surreptitiously, and landed further apart from him.
Flash didn’t say anything, just stared at her hand around his.
“Don’t break up with me,” Sunset blurted, because there wasn’t much else to say.
He didn’t look surprised. Just a bit sad. Disappointed, maybe. “Sunset, I. I think you know.”
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Sunset had woken up every day of her life. These days were the first that ever made her think of the monotony of that.
She didn’t get out of bed, didn’t check her phone. She knew what time it was, knew what was waiting.
As she lay there, she forced herself to think – because she’d been on that downhill of self-doubt and loneliness, and it rolled out to a self-destroyed town.
Was there something she hadn’t tried yet? She tried to fix things, asked for help anywhere it came from, tried to run away even. There were no sources of magic, no self-important villain who’s defeat by Sunset and crew’s hand would bring salvation.
If she didn’t even know what the battle was, how could she even fight in it?
This really was a loop in its truest nature; a circle that’s end was no longer discernible from its beginning.
This really was a loop in its truest nature: as though standing on top of the fleet of stairs and crying in frustration. The emotion is strong, but the mind wasn’t; going up and down the stairs once or one hundred times made no difference. Because she would go up in hopes of finding a way out, and she could only go down from there.
And she didn’t even know why she was climbing those stairs in the first place.
Well, at least today she wasn’t going to bother seeing what was on the top landing. She was fine laying there as she were.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
“Hey, Sunset, are you sure? That’s like, uber-duber expensive!”
“C’mon, Pinkie. Live a little!”
Words to live by, Sunset thought dryly. And she was trying to, wasn’t she? She had to get the past three – or four or five, they honestly just blended into one long stretch of walls painted something too dull to consider a colour – stays out of her system. And she wasn't going to lose herself in this – nothing crazy dangerous, no ruining her life because it would just reset. She didn't want to leave this struggle being that person.
So she did what anyone would do, naturally: blow off a lot of money on immediate indulgence, herein in the form of twenty pirate-themed bags of pricey amusement park fare. Harmless, right?
Pinkie jumped high with her hands thrown out, hitting Fluttershy in the arm with her shoe. “Viva la gummy worms, baby!”
Sunset laughed harder than necessary, tried to ask if Fluttershy was okay, but only managed to touch her arm.
Fluttershy understood anyway. “It’s all right. It’s good to see her act like herself again.”
Sunset wanted to ask about that, but Fluttershy turned her attention to her phone. Pinkie took the chance to wrap Sunset into a strangling bear hug.
Sunset didn’t realise how much she needed that until she leaned her head into Pinkie’s mess of cotton-candy curls and just breathed.
When Pinkie pulled away, Sunset matched her smile so wide it hurt. “You know what Pinkie? We’re skipping all the lines today. Fast lane only.”
“Wh- no way, Sunset. That’s way too much!”
Sunset shook her head emphatically. “Don’t worry about, Pinks. It’s just us so I can cover it. And we gotta make the others jealous, right?”
To be honest, Rarity and Rainbow probably could have made it, but Sunset just didn’t, couldn’t deal with the antagonism they were bringing with them today.
Pinkie recoiled as if shot multiple times. “Ack-ack-pack-ack! Finishing move, death by gift!”
“Wait until after the rides!”
Pinkie was already running off as she gasped. “You’re right! Race you to the Serpent’s Spine!”
Sunset laughed and started after her, but stopped when she Fluttershy didn’t follow. She was absorbed with her phone, a grin pulling at her lips.
Sunset eased back beside her. "And i thought Dash was addicted to ger phone."
"Oh no, its just," and she stopped there in a way that finished the sentence.
"Who is it?" Sunset asked, but Fluttershy was typing. While she waited, Sunset surveyed the busy park – a beautiful, sunlit Sunday that fell over families trying to get the most out of the last of the warm weather. It would be a shame to spend it on a phone when you had friends around. “Hey, Fluttershy? Like, if it’s important I – “
“Oh!” Fluttershy chirped and slunk back. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“That’s all right.” Sunset tipped her head. “Something wrong?”
"Oh! Oh, no, of course not. Its just – it’s Soarin. My – Rainbow’s friend, have you met him? He – we were texting.” She smiled differently as she ended that sentence.
Sunset hadn’t met Soarin, but she did remember Rainbow Dash talking about him – except she didn’t want to think of that conversation right now. “I’ve heard of him. C’mon, let’s catch up with Pinkie before she laps around the park.”
But Fluttershy giggled over Sunset, and followed it up with touching Sunset’s hand and showing her phone. “I’m really sorry! He’s just – look.”
Sunset scrolled through the chat thread of – stop signs? Pictures of different stop signs at different angles. Some photos were just zoomed in to a blurry corner of a red hexagon.
“Uhm?”
Fluttershy was smiling just looking through them. “It’s – oh, my. So this morning I texted him and – well, I eventually told him I was going to go, but we’re doing opposites so he started the stopping, so – “
This felt a bit like when Rarity and Pinkie were laughing over their experience, except with even less context. Sunset was about to tell Fluttershy she understood, even if she didn’t, when another text came in: a stop sign sat between a bowling ball and a set of pins.
Fluttershy leaned her face into Sunset’s shoulder and shook before completely seizing up with giggles.
Something old and tired ached inside of Sunset. Something that wanted more than a smile because everyone else was doing it. Something that wanted that unexplainable understanding that became its own humour, its own love language.
“Sorry,” Fluttershy breathed out after a minute. She tapped at her phone quickly. “I’m so sorry, what am I even – sorry, Sunset. I’m putting it on airplane mode, so I won’t – sorry.”
Sunset nodded numbly. “It’s okay.”
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
“Let’s go bowling,” Sunset blurted, and took Flash’s momentary pause to steal his hash brown, because living the same day again meant living the same hunger again. “Please?”
A troubled look crossed Flash’s face. “W-I mean, after this?”
Sunset shakes her head. “No, right now. C’mon.” She knew if she let him, he'd start saying something like he didn't want to lead her on. “Please, Flash? It’s been so long since we just did something for fun. We need to get out together more.”
And it was as simple as that. Maybe they just needed to be together to remember why they should be together. As a plus, it removed a lot of chances Flash had to bring up the break up.
So when Flash finally conceded, Sunset was already halfway through calling Fluttershy up, suggesting that the four of them – Soarin included – go to the bowling alley, because Sunset sort of had a hunch that was something they’d want to do.
It worked in Sunset's favour: hanging out with another happy almost-couple would double on the good atmosphere. At worst, Flash wouldn’t try to ruin the mood and maybe she’d be free to face the next day and take the long road to fixing things.
“So they’re dating?” Flash asked when Fluttershy hung up, saying something about canceling lunch plans.
“I honestly don’t know. If they a,re they never made it official.”
Flash picked at the crumbs on the table. “Y’think they do that ‘cause it’s easier?”
“Well.” Sunset thought back to what set her on today’s track: re-find that which makes you happy, together. “Maybe it works for them. But I like us the way we are.”
And for the first time in a while, from even before the loop, Sunset saw Flash’s hopeful smile brighten his face.
Sunset missed the last two pins. “Damn!”
“Probably slipped,” Flash excused, patting her on the back and handing her her drink.
“Probably,” Sunset agreed, a little miffed.
Though Sunset missed the pins, the day had gone great. They spent it on lunch and arcade distractions – Sunset paying for Flash's food then stealing most of it, Soarin' being his own brand of goofy that made Fluttershy lose it, which made Flash and Sunset lose it – and, looking over at Flash comparing his bowling ball to Sunset, she could honestly tell herself that she wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.
Doubt pecked at her mind – Flash had seemed humoured many times before breaking up with her on other days – but she pushed that away. She wasn’t letting herself jinx this.
“Having fun?” Sunset asked Flash after she drained the last of her soda.
He nodded, but was interrupted by the overhead loudly announcing a strike. They looked over to see Fluttershy hopping on the spot, clapping. She looked like a butterfly trying to fly. “Oh, did you see? I got a strike!”
“A strike!” Soarin came tumbling immediately, drinks spilling over in his hands, and started hopping with her and pointing to the empty alley. “You see that? I told you, didn’t I? I told you you could do it.”
Becoming self conscious, Fluttershy stopped hopping and tried to brush it off as she pushed some hair behind her ear.
Soarin didn't seem to think they were done celebrating. “No way I’m letting you talk yourself down. I’m gonna pick you up. Y’know what? I’m gonna pick you up. Like, actually. Ready?”
Fluttershy didn’t step away, but did make half a dispute – “Soa-SOARIN, oh my goodness, oh goodNESS!” – as he lifted her up and over one shoulder in one swift motion.
Soarin turned to Flash and Sunset and pointed to Fluttershy even though her face was behind him now. “See? She can do it. I told you. Isn’t she cute? Isn’t she – oh, you wanna talk to them?”
He turned around immediately, and Fluttershy suffered momentary whiplash, but she joyfully, dizzily said, “I’m sorry. He’s like this sometimes, he’s embarrassing. Please ignore him.”
“Ignore me? What was that you were doing before? This?”
Soarin started hopping around again, but with less elegance and more Fluttershy grabbing his shirt to keep from slipping. The two were a hopping storm of laughter and incomprehensible words, in a world of their own that only they shared.
Flash glanced at Sunset with a sullen, dawning expression that Sunset felt herself mirror and took her hand by the fingers.
It was a childish display, Sunset tried to tell herself. Flash and her were beyond that. They were a weathered, comfortable couple.
Then why did she have to convince herself that what was before her wasn't what she wanted?
“But I like our way better,” she whispered.
“Do you wanna grab some ice cream?”
Sunset tugged on Flash’s jacket around her shoulders. “I’m wearing this ‘cause I’m cold. You might wanna try again.”
He sniffed and rubbed his arms. “Yeah. Hot chocolate sounds nice right now, huh?”
He used the sort of joking tone would usually get her to join, but Sunset just wasn’t in the mood. “If you wanna get some, you can. I’m just not feeling it.”
Flash sighed heavily, and after that the only sounds between them were their footsteps and the midnight cicadas.
Part of Sunset tried to look on the bright side: if they weren’t talking, he wasn’t breaking up with her. But then, just the same, if they weren’t talking, they were probably breaking up.
So it didn’t surprise her when Flash jogged ahead a bit and dusted off the seat at the bus stop and motioned for her to sit. “Let’s take a break.”
“Might as well,” Sunset muttered defeatedly. She sank onto the bench.
Flash quietly took his seat beside her, and the distance between them was uncomfortably far. He didn’t wait too long to start talking again.
“Listen, Sunset. After tonight – the way tonight went, I just think.” He shrugged. “I'll be straight: I think we should break up.”
It wasn’t sad this time. It bothered her that it wasn’t sad, and then the disparity clicked. “After how tonight went? Because it kind of sounds like you’ve been planning this for a while.”
Flash rubbed his palms slowly. “Uhm…no. Well, yeah. Yeah, it’s been on my mind, I just thought. I thought now was the right time.”
This was ridiculous. “Why can’t you just tell me that when you wanted to meet for breakfast, it was to break up?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “I just wanted to talk. I didn’t plan – didn't exactly plan to break up with you then.”
“Oh really?” Sunset challenged. She glared at him. “You just wanted to talk, right? Because I’m pretty sure you specifically didn’t want to talk. You just wanted to get this over with, and that’s fine, but you don’t have to lie about things at this point.”
“I’m not lying,” Flash said, and sat a bit straighter. “Look, I – I just want this to be easy on both of us. I don’t want to end things – I want to still be friends and – “
Sunset rounded on him, and didn’t intend to laugh so bitterly. “Don’t you dare start with that, don’t you dare. I said we should go bowling because I wanted things to go better with us, and you just want to get out easy.”
Flash rubbed his forehead, and it occurred to Sunset then that it wasn’t a good thing that he never got mad at her. It just meant he probably didn’t care enough too.
He didn’t look at her when he said, “Sunset, if you really wanted things to work out so much, why would you take us bowling?”
“Because as a couple we should be able to have fun and get along sometimes! It’s not always just doing favours and sending good morning texts – which I’m pretty sure you’ve been skipping out on anyways.”
“You know I hate bowling though.”
“You’ve never said you hated bowling.” Sunset could forget a lot, but there weren’t a lot of things Flash hated.
“Yes I have. I told you last week. Remember when we were watching that movie?”
Flash actually waited for her to respond, but she didn’t give him much more than a throwing shrug of hands.
“The one with the college party, and I told you I hated party sports.”
Sunset couldn’t believe they were really having this conversation right now. “What the hell is a party sport.”
“Like, sports at parties.” He began listing off his hands. “You know: beer ping pong, air hockey, foosball. And bowling!”
Sunset squeezed the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t believe they were really, actually having this conversation right now. “Bowling has nothing to do with parties. You can’t bowl at a frat house!”
“But it’s the same – I cant think of the word. Style? Vibe?” He shrugged helplessly.
“First of all, I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but people don’t just own bowling balls and bring them to parties, so it’s not a party sport. And, so what?” Sunset raised a mocking eyebrow at him. “What, you’re breaking up with me because we didn’t do something you liked? Your missing the whole point if – “
“It’s not the bowling,” Flash cut in, waving his hand. “You just don’t listen to me, and you don’t even listen to yourself. You-you were just saying – accusing me of planning this break up and now you’re saying I’m being, like, whiny and impulsive over one thing – “
“Well you’re not listening to me. You didn’t let me finish, and your just putting words in my mouth now.”
“I’m not doing anything like that.”
Sunset looked him incredulously. “You just did. And why are you laying the blame on me? How could I listen to you when you won’t talk to me? Or when you talk but you leave the most important parts out, how do you expect me to listen to you if there’s nothing to hear?”
Flash halted all together, dropping his hands. “What do you want me to say when you’re shouting at me?”
“Now you’re just looking for excuses by picking on small things,” Sunset bit out.
“Yeah, actually!” Flash responded with a touch of desperation. “Yes! Yeah, it is the small things!”
He looked at her hard, imploring her to understand, desperation written on his face.
But where Sunset could read, she couldn’t see things between the lines, things that weren't written.
“Well, if it's all the small things that you never say anything about, Flash, that’s…there’s nothing I can do about that. And believe me, I’ve been trying like hell. But I guess there’s no point in going over this anymore.
With a defeated look that hurt more than any shouting could, Flash mumbled, “If you were listening to me, you’d know that that’s what I’ve been trying to say."
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Fine then. Fine then. That’s what he wanted – to break up? Fine then.
Sunset threw her phone across the room. It clattered loudly, but not loud enough for her.
She pushed herself out of bed. She spent – wasted too long in there wallowing over someone who wouldn’t do the same for her, who wouldn't even meet in the middle and –
She wasted so much time running after him. Thank Celestia it was kept locked in some mysterious time phenomenon – and why the hell would she even consider something as magical as a time loop had anything to do with him?
If anything, it was some Equestrian-sent vigilante who must have pitied her for being so – so –
He wanted it to be over? Fine then. She had so much more going for her.
Fine then.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
“And remember his thing for Princess Twilight, and then he’d be hung up over our Twilight? Like, what was that?”
“Oh, honey, let me tell you, that’s the sign of a sore bastard, and I’ve met my share of bastards.”
Sunset nodded as she tossed more CDs in the trash. Applejack so got her. “Tell me about it. And, like, he’s whining about small things but there are a thousand small things he does that I’ve let go of!”
“Exactly!” Applejack hollered elatedly. “And that’s not even counting the big things we could’a done! We ain’t never cheated on them or taken their money or nothin’, and they still think they got anything to complain about.”
“Exactly!” Sunset parroted with even more passion. She moved on to her closet with a pair of scissors and started picking out hoodies that weren’t hers. “No one – and I mean no one – is going to be as good to him as I was.”
It sounded like Applejack was slamming her hand on the table. “Sugarcube – oh my God, sugarcube, it – sugarcube, listen. It’s true, I promise you. And it makes you madder than a bull when you look back at all the attention you gave ‘em, and everything else –”
“Applejaaaaaack!” Applejack was a godsend. She just knew like no one else. “You don’t understand how long I’ve been waiting for someone to get it.”
“Sunset I understand. Believe me. And let me tell ya: the best thing you can do is just trash all their old things and get it outta yer system, ‘cause they ain’t worth any more sadness or nothin’!”
“Applejack, I swear – “ Sunset, standing there screaming with scissors tearing through a varsity sweater from a college she'd never associate with again, swore she was going to spoil Applejack with drinks the next time they met up. Finally, someone who got it. “Applejack, I love you. You just – you don’t understand.”
“Sunset, believe. Me. I understand.”
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Of course destroying every non-imperative object that was once Flash’s wasn’t permanent after the restart, but that and talking to Applejack was a cathartic experience.
But any sense of satisfaction she felt quickly fled when, on her way to the train station – she was going to surprised AJ and live large with her until they couldn’t even remember what not being single was like – she ran into Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy and got dragged into a lunch date.
And while Sunset was a little unhappy having her plans delayed until tomorrow-today, Rainbow was a storm cloud ruining a good day. Except Sunset she was the only one who noticed, because Fluttershy was too busy laughing at probably stop signs on her phone.
It bothered Sunset for a different reason entirely – she just couldn’t empathise with Fluttershy’s pink sky and sunshine – and when Fluttershy went to the counter to ask about vegan dessert choices, Sunset tried to figure out Rainbow’s deal.
“Feeling left out?”
Rainbow picked at the pineapple on her pizza. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Prissy. Sunset shrugged and nonchalantly said, “Look, I know it feels crappy when you feel a fallout coming on.” When Rainbow just shot her a dark look, Sunset added, “I’m pretty sure Flash and I are done for.”
“Did he say anything?” Rainbow grumbled, at least a bit curious.
“No. But, you know Flash. He won’t talk about things that go bad, he just lets them pile up.” She was surprised that she could say that without feeling very bitter at all. “Kind of like Fluttershy.”
Rainbow snorted derisively. “Dude, do you even know your own boyfriend? He’s nothing like Fluttershy.”
Sunset flinched.
That was different. Could the loop be different? Did something change?
“But – you said – uh, you’ve told me once before that they both hate talking about things and but still want to be, like, understood and all.”
Rainbow started aimlessly rolling her finger over her phone screen, smearing pineapple juice on it. “Look, man, I didn’t say that. You prob’ly just heard me wrong. But if you’re having problems with Flash, don’t take them out on me.”
This could hardly be ‘considered taking out on’. More like ‘finding a common hate place’. “Yeah, well, you too, ‘kay? If your best friend starts blowing you off for someone she just met, don’t come whining to me.”
“That’s not what it is, okay?” Rainbow spat, glaring at Sunset. “You wanna know the real deal with Fluttershy – and, you know what, Flash too, ‘cause you’re prob’ly chewing him out for nothing, too.”
Sunset tipped her head at Rainbow. This should be good.
“They’re not keeping quiet because they’re afraid to talk, or that they ‘just don’t like it’. They don’t want to bring it up because they don’t think it’s worth anything. They – “ Rainbow pushed herself back and threw her fingers. “They don’t think people should feel like they gotta change for them. They think it’s up to them to-to suck it up and live with how people are.”
That. That – “That’s pretty dumb,” Sunset said plainly. "It's not change, it's adapting. It's working around."
“How’d you and Flash ever get anywhere?” Rainbow reached for her phone but gave up halfway. Something about that made Sunset think of Flash. “Sure, you don’t gotta agree with it, but if you even give a damn about them you’ll let them be them and you’ll do all the changing so they don’t notice and things work right and you never tell them why and – “
It devolved into a frustrated growl and Rainbow motioning angrily at her pineapple pizza before pushing it away. She held her forehead on her thumbs and didn’t say anything else.
Sunset only realised she was holding her breath when she let it out. Seeing Rainbow hit the ground at not get up running shook something inside her – that same part that woke up hurting not too but so very long ago.
Still. If not changing was Sunset and changing was Rainbow Dash, and they were both sitting in the same pizza shop without who they wanted, then Sunset might as well be herself.
“Rainbow Dash?”
Because, at least as herself, Sunset only had to watch Rainbow wipe away any form of anger and beckon blindly at Fluttershy’s call from across the shop.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
On her walk back from the old high school – because there was nothing else left to learn in this loop, still no signs of magical break out – Sunset saw Flash on the other side of the street.
She flipped him off and took the long way home.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
Sunset was starting to think she just had an affinity for bitterness.
“Rarity, maybe you’d only be half as stressed if you stopped having an aneurysm over how you looked.” Sunset crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch. “No one’s even paying attention.”
Rarity slapped her eyeliner pen on her vanity desk. “You know, Sunset, I don’t really need this right now. If there’s something you need me to help with, now’s not the time.”
Sunset lifted on leg over the other, and a placid pout crept up on her face. “Me, help? No, I think I’ve got it figured out. You seem stressed lately, so I just came over to help you.”
The intention was good, but something about no permanent consequences and no permanent success inched over Sunset, whispered to her.
But where Sunset was the high school mean queen, Rarity was the Marilyn of acerbity. She rounded on Sunset with a mask of indifference. “No help, you say? Not even boy troubles? Pray tell, how are things between you and dear Flash?”
That dug into Sunset, being read so clearly and cut so clean. But she turned it into fuel for the fire – if Rarity so clearly saw it, then the break up really was called for – and, just because she could, just because anger was easier than anything else, she pressed on.
“Rarity, let’s be adults about this. You don’t have to blow a gasket just because your eyeliner smudges one day.”
Rarity lifted her nose and tittered – a steady, pitying sound that rang void of humour. She sauntered over to Sunset.
“Oh, of course, my only problems are the way I look. My mistake.” She stopped short of the couch leg. “Oh, but what would you know about problems, darling? Surrounded by supportive friends at every step, a good job and financial stability. Not to mention you’ve always been the most popular in school and just breezing through all your university classes. Why, you even get to be the heroin of a magical adventure, how could you ever get bored?”
Sunset met Rarity’s gaze head on, only tipping her chin, daring her to continue.
“Oh, I know. I know you love to hear the praise. So yes, I do admit, anyone would: you are better. You are most definitely living better. Even ask Applejack.”
Calm before the storm was the phrase that came to Sunset’s mind.
“After all, you don’t have to tell yourself that a place to eat and sleep are all you need when its all you have. You aren’t broke and ashamed of it. Or! “ she raised her finger daintily and didn’t give Sunset a chance to interject. “You don’t have to sit and wander aimlessly because you can do anything. You don’t have to smile and laugh through another unproductive day wondering if it’s worth anything.”
This – Sunset didn't need to hear this. Not when anything she could possibly do would just be undone.
Rarity seemed far from done, though. “Did I forget to mention how lonely you don’t have to be? You can ask Rainbow that, she’s been afraid of that her whole life. And Fluttershy just might finally have found someone for herself but there is now a new frontier of things for her to be frightened of. And Twilight – oh, you would have to be blind to not see that the girl is going to die of stress. But maybe when you live that high on your self-important pedestal, with some God-given gift of exclusivity and good fortune, you become blind to the woes of others.”
In it’s entirety, Rarity managed to keep her voice at the same dangerous level, slowly towering over Sunset. And while Sunset knew when to stay in her place, she also knew when she’d had enough.
“I know my friends, thank you. I’m leaving.” She stood up without waiting and Rarity stepped back to let her pass. Away from the couch, Sunset stopped and added, “If you’re so aware of everything, why didn’t you do something sooner? What, too bothered by your own little problems?”
Rarity shook her head lightly. “I’m not standing here stepping on your toes to make myself seem better. I just want you to know that if in your magical, expansive world, a bump in you relationship is the worst of your troubles, consider that you could afford to take the loss.”
Sunset gave Rarity one last glower before heading to the door, but it was mostly just on reflex. Grief and anger had passed, leaving guilt to fill the space.
On her way out, Rarity called, almost cheekily, behind her. “Oh, don’t look so blue, darling. I’m sure it’ll all work out for you soon. After all, it’s always sunny in Equestria.”
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
“Twilight?”
“Sorry, just trying to collect my thoughts here.”
“Right.” Sunset rested her head back down in her arms.
She heard Twilight turn some pages over. “I’ve made all these notes while you were talking, but. It’s just so much.”
“Yeah,” came Sunset’s muffled reply.
It was late in Twilight’s room, Sunset lying on Twilight’s bed and Twilight seated in her office chair. Sunset was tired, but for so many reasons.
Reasons Twilight had listed and was now trying to help with. “I – sorry. I’m not very good with this kind of stuff. I’m out of my river, right?”
“Depth,” Sunset muttered automatically. And, “Sorry.”, because as much as she wanted to stay angry at Rarity, the point was made: Sunset couldn't let her emotions from one place ruin things in another.
Quiet settled between them again, and it waited there for a few minutes until Twilight closed her notebook. “Well, we should deal with what started all this, shouldn’t we?”
Sunset set her chin on her arms. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, it’s not like we haven’t done this before. Maybe the magic is coming from some artifact you collected recently. Have you – “
“What magic?” Sunset asked suddenly, looking at Twilight.
Twilight set her notebook down. “The time magic. The repeat?”
“Oh.” Sunset let out a soft chuckle. “You meant that the loop was the start of all this.”
“Well, the start and the end. It is a loop.”
Sunset shook her head and rolled on her side so that she fully faced Twilight. “I’m so selfish, aren’t I? Everyone is going through so much and here I am still thinking about a breakup.”
Twilight watched Sunset warily. Then, she got up and sat at the foot of the bed. And got back up again and sat closer to Sunset’s head than her feet. Sunset smiled forlornly.
“Sunset, I’m really not well-versed in this, but I can tell you that after hearing everything you’ve gone through, I sit here thinking that my board exams are nothing compared to your problem.”
“I don’t think the test that has taken all your years of studying and is the decider of your future is smaller than a silly little magic glitch.”
“Well, see that?” Twilight held her hand out at Sunset. “From your perspective, you think your problems are smaller than mine. And I think mine are smaller than yours. And Rarity thinks hers are smaller than everyone else’s.”
Sunset looked down at Twilight’s hand. “Maybe.”
“I think that extends to the heart of this, too: your supernatural trap seems hard for us to handle because we aren’t all winged unicorns.”
“Yeah, well, guess I have special problems. Woohoo,” Sunset mumbled witheringly.
Twilight kept her hand out. “You’re a special person.”
Sunset caved. She took Twilight’s hand. Twilight smiled, then added, “But I guess you could say there’s a place where you aren’t special. And that same place is somewhere where I would be special. Theoretically.”
“Thanks, Twilight,” Sunset said with a little tartness. Twilight’s hand was small and a little clammy. It felt nothing like Flash’s hand.
“Any time.” Twilight smiled. “So what are you going to do?”
Sunset breathed in, held it, and let it out easily.
“I think. I think, after talking about all that, I’m feeling better. Not like when I talked to AJ or Pinkie – this feels like I’m listening to my own thoughts. Sort of like the first time I called you about this.”
“I remember that,” Twilight said. “Well, I remember you told me about it.”
Sunset squeezed Twilight’s hand. “And you know what we said we were going to do first? We were going to fix things with Flash and I.”
Twilight nodded.
“I really do think that before I can do anything else, I have to make that right.” She didn’t know how to, and she didn’t know if that meant staying together or just meeting him in the middle when they end it. She just knew she couldn’t leave it as the mess of bad memories that it was in her mind.
“And I have everything everyone shared with me now – their highs and their lows. Their lessons. Their beatdowns that get me to look at bigger picture and realise that if everyone else has to cut their losses, then I need to learn how to live with the short end of the stick sometimes.” Sunset let out a weak chuckle. “And the comedown that puts my mind at ease.”
At that, Twilight smiled warmly and nudged closer to Sunset. “I have faith in you. We all do, it seems. Even if we have less than ideal ways of showing it.”
Sunset shrugged. Then, “Hey. What time is it?”
Twilight checked her wristwatch. “Almost one.”
“Huh. It’ll be reset time in a while.” A yawn unbidden left Sunset, and she covered her mouth with her free hand.
“You look tired.”
“So tired.”
Twilight looked vaguely around the room. “Well, if it’s going to take you back to your house soon anyway, we might as well stay here, as we are.”
“I haven’t had a sleepover in a long time,” Sunset muttered, already letting herself drift off to sleep.
Twilight laid down in the space beside Sunset. “Me neither.”
Whatever came in the morning was at the same time certain and uncertain, but right then, Sunset was comfortable knowing one truth.
Sunset was surrounded by supportive friends at every step.
Sun., Sept. 15 | ☀
The next day – evening, because she had spent the day thinking through everything that had happened up until then – found Sunset in her own room. Flash sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her.
“I think we should break up.”
“I know,” Sunset agreed, neither loud nor weak. “But I need to know why.”
Flash hesitated, didn’t look at her when he answered. “I just think thing’s have changed. And I think you’d – you’d be happier after this.”
Sunset didn’t feel any anger anymore. She felt a little disappointed that she had gotten so provoked by something that needed attention – the bigger picture of everyone included.
“Is that going to be your answer if I ask you tomorrow? ‘Cause you have a habit of going back on what you say.”
He looked her way, but at her shoulder. He started rolling the cuffs of his sleeve, let out a half-laugh. “Guess I can’t say you don’t know me.”
“But I still don’t know why,” Sunset pressed gently.
But Flash sat an unmovable man on that. “I don’t know. I’m quiet?” He sighed. “I’m scared?”
Sunset sighed as well. She wanted to get this right. “I guess. Are you too scared to tell me when the little things bother you?”
Flash finally looked up at her, softly surprised.
“Could…you tell me now?”
Flash nodded and pulled out his phone. “Here, it – “
“You have a list?”
He smiled wryly. “I didn’t want – like, I didn’t want to feel like – “
“Hard to explain,” Sunset finished for him. No need to make this difficult on him.
“Yeah. So, uhm, do you still – “ Sunset nodded. “ – yeah. Okay. Uh…first: you always have to win.”
“I’m not Rainbow Dash!” Sunset argued immediately.
“Well, I know. But with Dash – she hates to lose, and you need to win.” He shrugged. “It’s different.”
Sunset opened her mouth to argue, but held her tongue when that made her realize he was right. “Okay, fine. Next.”
“This isn’t nece – “
“Flash.”
“You never apologise.” He waited for her to speak, and when she didn’t, he looked back at his list. “And you don’t laugh at my jokes, but you laugh at everyone else’s. And you always go to your friends for help, and that makes me feel like, that – next, also, you – do I have to say more?”
Frankly, Sunset didn’t want to hear more. Especially when she wasn’t saying anything either. “Do you want to?”
Flash scrolled up and down the list – the long list, it seemed – and looked back at her sadly. “One more: you don’t listen to me how I – the way I want to be listened to.”
Sunset kept his gaze. “Maybe. But you don’t talk to me the way I need to be talked to. Flash, I need to be told these things, or I won’t know them.” She risked a laugh at her own expense. “I’ve kind of noticed it takes some world-changing magical intervention to make me realise I might be wrong.”
Flash didn’t laugh at that. “I just can’t do that, Sunset. I can’t.”
And there it was. That unchangeable crux of person, the faults they knew and knew they couldn’t change, no matter how hard they tried. The reason for all their reasons.
Flash couldn’t bring himself to ask someone to change and wouldn’t lay the weight of the consequences of that on someone he loved. And so the small things snowballed, and the big things, well, he'd have to find out one day.
For Sunset, it was the Equestria in her, the magic that weaved between the threads of her skin and soul. It set her apart in a way no one on this side could ever fully understand, even herself. All that she could hope for was that she could meet someone else who could.
And in that room, between the two of them, they both knew that neither could Sunset be compliment to bring out the best of Flash’s shortcomings, nor could Flash be the compliment to Sunset’s.
This is what it really came down to when people weren’t meant for each other. When it wasn’t distance, and not for lack of trying. Seeing it clearly, Sunset could now come to terms with that.
“I understand. And I still wish we could have done something – “ she really, honestly did “ – but I know that this – it’s the best we could do for each other. A good ending.”
“A good ending,” Flash echoed. “Sunset?”
“Yeah?”
He reached his hand out, touched hers, and held it fondly when she didn’t draw back. “Thank you. For everything.”
Sunset rubbed her thumb over his fingers. “And thank you, Flash. Even for breaking up with me twice.”
“Hey, maybe a magical demon will break me into two pieces,” Flash quipped with a genuine, jolly grin.
It still hurt, soft and quiet in her. She matched his smile. “Now I have to deal with missing you, don’t I?”
Flash shrugged. “I do, too.”
And there was still so much left. She still had to return some of his things – well, maybe – and she still had to remember all the places they’d been, all the ways he’d touched her life, and that it wouldn’t be there in the same way anymore. The things that came after the roughest parts of a split.
It didn’t end there: there were all her friends, too. There was the future, even, where she would probably have even bigger break ups and even bigger mountains to climb. And without doubt, there would be magical conflict around the corner.
She didn’t know where she was going, or what was coming. Sitting there, though, she could take her next steps forward with her head held up. Because moving on wasn’t leaving things behind you; it was making peace with everything it was and wouldn’t be, so that it's the thing that helps you move forward.
Looking at Flash, the same person he had been when she was trying to take his hash brown, the same person he had been when she shouted at him after bowling, the same person he had been when he first broke up with her, Sunset smiled.
She could move on now.
Mon., Sept. 16 | 🌤
Alone, Sunset woke up to the outside sky just starting to light up. She groggily slipped out of bed, rolled her chair over by the window, and watched the rousing town with a new fondness.
And so, with the sunrise barely breaking through over the cloudy, overcast day, Sunset looked ahead.
Author's Note
When we walk away, we look back in anger. In sadness.
We might not all get the chance to confine the messy parts of a break up to one day, but we can try to take it in stride.
