Sweetie Belle needed out. Another minute of Scootaloo, and she'd probably break something.

How many weeks had it been since they came to Canterlot? Six? Seven? Too many, either way.

And rent was due Friday! Oh, Luna, she never remembered Canterlot being so expensive!

All the more expensive when neither she nor Scootaloo could find any work worth anything.

It was just temporary, she'd told Scootaloo, when she finally scored a job waiting tables at a local pub. There'd be chances to look around, find a proper gig for herself. There'd surely be a way to break into music if she just looked hard enough. But Scootaloo's own attempts at street performing had fallen flat, and here she was to provide for both of them.

And the longer it went, the more depressed Scootaloo got. These days, Sweetie saw Scootaloo asleep more than she saw her awake. And when she was awake, more often than not she was vegging out with a bottle of cheap cider.

Darn it, Scootaloo! This whole thing was your idea!

Nor had Apple Bloom written back. There wasn't even any way of telling if their letters had been reaching Sweet Apple Acres at all. Sweetie had stopped trying to write after the fourth week. It was becoming harder to justify shelling out bits for much of anything right now, even something like postage stamps.

Writing to her own friend had become a luxury. Oh, what a life!

The party was definitely over, and the hangover here to stay. Not even thinking back to Rumble's infectious attitude on the train ride here could rekindle those thoughts now.

It was a brisk, breezy night. Autumn in Canterlot got chilly when the sun came down, and her breath came out in wisps as she stepped out into the streets. The cobblestone paths nipped at the edge of her hooves wherever she walked. She tightened the scarf around her neck as she looked about at the sights of nighttime city life.

There was never a time when Canterlot didn't have loads of ponies out and about. Even on a cold, overcast night like this, with the slightest precipitation falling from above, there were plenty of ponies walking about their business.

So many ponies. So many words. All that talking, all that laughing. All that crying, all that shouting.

"You lost, miss?"

Sweetie looked up to meet the eyes of an elder pony. He wore a friendly smile, clad in a Canterlot Transit uniform and cap. Only when he spoke did Sweetie realize she'd nearly collided headfirst into a streetlamp.

"Yeah!" Sweetie's voice sounded a bit breathless as she struggled to straighten herself out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I mean no. I mean..."

The transit pony chuckled. "Yeah, you mean no?"

How eloquent, Sweetie Belle.

"I meant..." Sweetie swallowed and tried yet again. "I was hoping to see the Row of Crystal Trees. Do you know where it is?"

The transit pony gestured down the street with a hoof. "Head down until you hit Fourth Street. Take a left, head down a bit until you hit Neighpolitan Avenue. Head down, take a right at Seventh Street, and you'll see it dead ahead. You'll know it when you see it." He smiled. "First time in Canterlot?"

For the briefest of moments, Sweetie thought about telling him the complicated events of the last few weeks.

No, she wanted to say. I've been in Canterlot for weeks now. One of my best friends isn't here, and the other isn't helping in the slightest. Won't you help me?

Too much effort. Just thinking about it tired her.

"Yeah," Sweetie Belle said simply.

"Mm." The transit pony touched his cap. "Well, you have a nice night, miss. And enjoy the Row, you picked a good time to visit. Nopony out there around this time, but me? I think it's the best time to go." He turned away now, heading in the direction of the Metro station just ahead.

Again, for the briefest of moments, Sweetie thought to speak out, ask for more.

How could talking with somepony make her feel so alone?

Neighpolitan Avenue was lined with shops and ponies. The chilly air carried with it the rich scent of foods cooking in the restaurants to either side of the street. Voices on speakers, beckoning travellers t come and buy their wares. Lights advertising things, lights from homes and stores and offices.

So many ponies. So many words. All that talking, all that laughing. All that crying, all that shouting.

On she walked. She was surrounded by life, and she was the loneliest pony in the world.

There it was, the Row of Crystal Trees.

A gift from the Crystal Empire, trees made entirely of living crystal planted in the very heart of Canterlot. Every little light of the city shone down upon them, where they burst into scintillating specks of multicolored fire like so many opals.

They looked so pretty, the same way lights looked through tears in half-closed eyes.

She walked amidst the trees, lifting a hoof upwards to gently stroke one of the branches. Dewdrops collected upon the frog of her hoof, into a little pool of water that ran down her foreleg and dripped from her knee. It was cold, colder than the air outside, and it stung at her hoof as she went onwards.

The voices of the city were more muted here, away from the bustle of Canterlot's busiest streets. But Sweetie could still hear them, from somewhere just behind.

So many ponies. So many words. All that talking, all that laughing. All that crying, all that shouting.

None of it for her.

Just the clipclop of her own hooves, walking along the Row of Crystal Trees.

Author's Note

I've got the city stretching all around me
So many broken hearts and hooves around me
My scream rings out above the din around me
But no one hears me cry