The 10th of January would’ve been a normal, uneventful day for Sunset Shimmer, until she found a pink piece of paper folded inside her locker. She took it with curiosity, and when she opened it, she was surprised at the words written in it with a white pencil.
When the sun rises, the day starts,
People wake up, ready to enjoy their life,
And then the day ends, once the sun departs,
But in my case, I had a big strife,
Dawn and sunset had no meaning to me,
No different than the ones of the next day,
The day before, or the previous three,
I felt trapped in a loop, an endless replay,
But one day, the sunset took a new form,
Its flames turned into blazing hair, its shine became sapphire eyes,
It now had a voice that could be soothing, or conjure up a storm,
And each time I look at it, I feel my heartbeats rise,
My day now starts when I see that sunset walk around the school,
Sharing laughter, a helping hand, or a bright smile,
And ends when it leaves for home, leaving me smiling like a fool,
It’s always a beautiful sight, even if it only lasts a little while,
Sunset stood motionless, and read the poem one more time, trying to figure out how to react. “Who wrote this? Why didn’t they sign it?” She thought before looking around her, trying to find the culprit observing her reaction, but no one seemed to be paying attention to her.
She put the note back inside the locker, looked around one more time, and when no one came, she went back to class.
The 10th of January was supposed to be a big day for Wallflower. She had decided to express what she felt in writing to build up bravery for what she wanted to say to the girl that had been in her mind for a very long time.
She waited just at the opposite side of her locker, and when she saw her, she felt a familiar feeling seize her heart and raise its beats. She waited with both excitement and dread as Sunset Shimmer read the poem she had written for her. Then, step by agonizing step, she moved closer.
It was then that the girl she was fascinated by turned around, looking for the author of the poem, and found the shy girl trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Wallflower opened her mouth, but barely a whisper got out. Just looking at the girl of her dreams made her heart drum in her chest, and her brain was so flooded with emotions and doubts that she couldn’t think of what to say.
Sunset’s wonder about the poem quickly turned to confusion and worry as the girl in front of her looked like she was about to faint on the spot. “Hey, are you okay?” Since Wallflower’s voice refused to work, she raised a shaky finger toward the poem in Sunset’s hand. “Wait, you wrote it?”
Wallflower finally found a bit of a voice to talk. “Y-yes,” she squeezed out, looking away from her to try and calm herself a bit more, but then she noticed that everyone was looking at her, trying to figure out what was happening. She could hear their silent judgement of her, making her lock up even more.
“This is... I don't have words... Do you really-” before Sunset could finish speaking, Wallflower’s hand went into her right pocket and pulled out a stone with strange carvings.
Memories exited the minds of Sunset and the witnesses while Wallflower ran away, quickly finding one of her hiding spots in school, a small storage room. She sat down, clenching her fist and teeth before hugging her legs.
“You ruined it… You knew it would happen…” she said to herself in frustration. “What made you think it would work?” she asked herself as tears began running down her cheeks. “You always freeze or stutter or get ignored. Why would this time be different?”
Wallflower heard the bell ring, announcing the start of classes, so she wiped her tears away and got out of the storage room, returning to her lonely, invisible life.
That night, Sunset Shimmer arrived at her home, locked the door, and took off her boots and jacket while one question ran around in her mind; “Who wrote the poem?”
“I don’t think any of the girls would leave me a poem in my locker, they would probably be upfront about it. Maybe Fluttershy, but she hasn’t given any hints of liking me before. At least, not like this.” Sunset laid down on her couch, staring at the ceiling. She knew she was popular in school; she was the literal magical girl from another dimension, but no one at CHS seemed to look at her the way the poem portrayed her.
And that was the second question in her mind; “How should I feel about it?”
Letting out a long sigh, Sunset stood up and went to cook dinner. “Are they in love with me, or just obsessed? Should I be worried that someone may be watching me from afar?” Before she knew it, a plate of cooked vegetables was in front of her, and a fork was already in her hands.
Sunset shook her head to push the thoughts away, but the questions were only replaced by the words this nameless author had used to describe her.
She grabbed a flock of her blazing hair, inspecting it as if it hadn’t been a part of herself since she had memory, and then started to sing a little tune, paying attention to her own voice.
“Are they really that special?” Sunset wondered as she sent her fork to the plate once again, but it was already empty. “Uh?” She looked at the clock and saw that she had spent around fifteen minutes spaced out. “I think I need some rest, I’ve been losing track of time a lot.”
Sunset took her empty plate and washed it along with some other dishes she had piled up and went to bed, hoping that she would be able to figure things out tomorrow.
That night, Wallflower arrived at her home, locked the door, and walked to the kitchen to prepare dinner while one question ran around in her mind; “What do I do now?”
In her panic, she had forgotten to take the poem away from Sunset, or even make her forget about reading it. “I can do it tomorrow. Wait for her to open her locker again and take it out while her memories are taken away.” She thought as she took out some microwave dinner from the fridge. “No, she probably already threw it away. Why would she keep the poem of a stranger?”
After the microwave dinged, she sat down to eat while her mind continued to think of a way to salvage the situation. “I should just give up. Maybe move to another school. It’s not like someone would miss me if I’m gone.” She started eating her dinner, trying to drown out those ideas with the sound of her chewing. The food was bland, and she had to put extra condiments to give it a bit more taste, but she had gotten used to it with time. It was cheap, quick to make, and left her enough time to do nothing the rest of the day.
After finishing her dinner, Wallflower threw the empty plastic tray in the trash, making a mental note to take it out in the morning, and went to her bed, but on her way to it, she saw her desk right beside it.
On top of said desk, was a notepad of pink paper next to a white pencil.
She stared at the objects for a few seconds, as her mind filled with ideas. “Maybe I can try one more time.” She walked up to the desk and took the pencil. “At worst, she throws it away and I can be sure that taking her memories will end everything.” She sat down at the desk and placed the pencil on the pink paper. “At best…” Her mind wondered about the possible outcomes of a good response, but she knew they would never happen. Still, she wrote on the paper with the same passion that made the first poem, focusing on the girl that inspired her.
I’m sorry I appear like a Flytrap,
I wish we could start on the right track,
I wish you could gift me an Aster,
But I’m terrified it will end in disaster,
But my failure doesn’t make my words untrue,
Glory Flower’s like you are very few,
And not just your beauty is something to admire,
You stand against every challenge no matter how dire,
From your lowest you climbed to your best,
Showing that your goodness was just suppressed,
I do not blame you for who you became,
Loneliness is a hard thing to tame,
You chose anger to cope with it,
And in a very awful way, I must admit,
But that awfulness was just a mask for your real feelings,
Frustration, abandonment, and insecurity that reached the ceilings,
You’re a flower that grew in hostile ground,
Those are the more beautiful that can be found,
You’re the flower that took my heart,
And made me start to express my feelings through art,
Sunset smiled as she read the poem, feeling moved by its words. “This… this is love, isn’t it?” She looked around, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of the author, but once again, no one was looking at her.
She read the poem one more time, feeling some sort of familiarity with it. Like when you hear a song from a band you like and you can instantly recognize them.
Sunset was sure she had met this author in person. The question was; who was it?
She finally folded the poem to fit it in the pocket of her jacket before going to class, her smile still bright on her lips.
Wallflower was once again hidden in the storage room, but instead of the usual fetal position and tears, she was almost jumping in place with a big smile that barely contained a shout of celebration.
“She smiled!” She exclaimed in her mind, equal parts excited and terrified. “She even took the poem with her. That means she liked it, right?” She looked at the Memory Stone in her hand, wondering what she should do now. “Well, I can’t take the poem from her person, so I can’t erase her memories of it.” She put the stone back in her right pocket without the usual feeling of regret. “Maybe… maybe this could work…” she said to herself while hugging her arms, and she almost, almost, felt like it wasn’t a lie.
The bell rang and Wallflower went to her class, doing her best to avoid coliding with others, and once she reached her classroom, she kept her distance from the rest of her classmates, never making eye contact until she reached her seat at the end of the classroom. She pulled out her math books and listened to Ms. Harshwhinny talk, but her mind wasn’t paying attention. It was occupied with two things; Sunset, and how Sunset made her feel.
After a few more minutes of unsuccessful learning, she gave up and pulled out a small green notepad out of her bag. Opening it up behind her math book, she started pouring in all the ideas that were filling her mind. The white pages were filled with descriptors, rhymes, phrases, and rough poems that she would refine in the night.
The bell ringed far too soon for her liking and was forced to stop and move to the cafeteria, but as she finished getting everything in her bag, she remembered something.
Sunset was going to be there.
“What’s the joke?”
Sunset suddenly snapped back to reality and looked at the origin of the question. “What do you mean, Pinkie?”
“You’ve been smiling every now and then and barely eaten a thing.”
Sunset quickly compared her tray of food to those of her friends, noticing that hers had barely been touched. “Oh, I’m just not that hungry.”
“Oh, come on Sunny, what got you in a good mood?” Pinkie insisted, her nose almost touching Sunset’s as she leaned over her.
Sunset pushed her friend a safe distance away from her. “It’s nothing. Just got a little gift, that’s all.”
Pinkie’s eyes practically grew three sizes from the excitement. “Oh! Was it a gift from a secret admirer?”
Sunset was too busy blushing to notice how Pinkie had perfectly guessed her situation. “Kind of…”
Pinkie gasped, but before she could say anything else, a white hand covered her mouth. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, you won’t utter another word unless Sunset’s comfortable with it,” Rarity ordered menacingly, and the pink girl nodded. “Also, Sunset, I’m happy for you.”
Sunset’s face was now completely red. “Double thank you.”
“It was about time someone made a move on you,” Rainbow said absentmindedly, not noticing Rarity’s disapproving glare.
“Who do you think she is?” Pinkie asked, and Rarity cleared her throat to signal them to stop.
“Actually, I’m wondering that myself,” Sunset admitted, finally facing her friends. “They haven’t even left me a signature or initials. I don’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl.”
“Which one would you prefer?” Rainbow asked.
“I’m okay with both, but what confuses me is that they don’t sound like anyone I know.” Sunset was about to pull out the poem but decided against it. “Is there a gardening club in the school or something like that?”
“Nah, I would’ve heard about it,” Rainbow answered.
“The closest thing we had was that tree planting project vice-principal Luna organized years ago,” Applejack recalled.
Sunset sighed and looked at her still uneaten food.
“Don’t you worry, darling, they’ll surely show themselves once they build up enough confidence,” Rarity assured her.
“I hope so. I’m still not sure just how–” Sunset turned around, looking around the cafeteria, searching for… something.
“Are you alright?” Fluttershy asked.
“Yeah, it was just… I thought I heard something.” Confused, Sunset finally started eating her food. “It happened again, but I was barely thinking about the poem. What’s causing this?”
Wallflower walked out of the cafeteria, the Memory Stone going back into her right pocket. “I failed again.” She wiped away some tears from her face as she remembered how weirded out Sunset’s friends looked at her sight. She could hear their thoughts, judging her as she stood still like a statue. Applejack and Rainbow looked like they were about to tell her to get lost, Rarity was making a long mental list of all the problems with her choice of clothing, Fluttershy seemed as uncomfortable as her, and who knew what Pinkie would be thinking?
“I can’t do this.” More tears fell as she crossed the school’s exit. “I need to stop trying. I need to…”
Wallflower’s hand went back to her right pocket as a scary thought entered her mind. “Could I just forget about Sunset?”
She slowly pulled out the stone, feeling it heavier than before in her grasp. She looked intensely at the eye carved into it, feeling the temptation of its power. The power to make everything null and void. The power to feel nothing.
The stone went back into her pocket. “I don’t want to forget Sunset.” She looked back at the school, the bell for her next class was ringing. “Even if she eventually forgets about me.” She walked back inside, moving towards her class. “She will find someone one day. Until then… I can keep dreaming.”
The 15th of January was the day the Rainbooms had gathered for practice, but one of their members wasn’t in the mood for music, and her friends knew why, so when the practice ended early, they intervened.
“So, any news on this secret admirer of yours?” Applejack asked as she hung her instrument over her shoulder.
Sunset let out a long sigh, looking at her guitar. “Nothing. She just keeps leaving me…” She looked away from her friends. “…gifts. But I still have no idea of who she is?”
“But you know it’s a she?” Rainbow questioned.
“I doubt a boy would write things like that on pink paper. I could be wrong, but it’s at least something.”
“What is she leaving you Sunset?” Rarity asked as she put away the microphones, her gossiping nature helping her keep track of the conversation. “You haven’t told us yet.”
Sunset paused for a moment before finally speaking. “She’s leaving me poems in my locker. They’re all about me and the things I’ve done.”
Fluttershy held her tambourine a little tighter. “The good things I hope.”
“She also writes about the bad things, but in a comforting way. She seems to understand a bit of what I was going through after the Fall Formal.” Sunset looked at the ground, remembering just how alone she felt every time she wasn’t close to her friends, how everyone wanted to keep her away and pretend she had left the school along with Twilight. “I would’ve liked to have received those poems then.”
“Yeah, sorry for not being the best support back then,” Rainbow admitted, her voice and head drooping.
Sunset snapped out of those memories and smiled at her friends. “It’s okay, it was a stressful time for all of us.”
“Well, if your secret admirer won’t come out, how about we go find himhertheyit?” Pinkie proposed.
“How would we do that?” Sunset questioned.
“Well, we can guess it’s a girl, that reduces the suspects a bit. What else can you guess from those poems she wrote?”
“She mentions flowers and nature a lot. That’s why I asked about a gardening club of some kind.”
Fluttershy thought for a moment. “The only one who would know a lot about that would be vice-principal Luna. You don’t think it could be her, right?”
“Not if she wants to keep her job,” Applejack answered.
“And I doubt she would like me with all the problems I caused before the formal,” Sunset added.
“We also know that she likes poetry, we could ask around if someone knows a friend who has that hobby,” Rarity proposed.
Sunset thought back to the poems she had read, and the rare bits where the author hinted at emotions other than what she made them feel. “I don’t think she has friends.” The words almost scared Sunset. After learning just how valuable and vital friendships were, she never wanted to be alone again.
Rainbow let out a raspberry. “Not having friends? In this school? Impossible.”
“Yeah, we’re the friendliest people in town!” Pinkie exclaimed cheerfully. “Except when we’re under the influence of sirens. Or become she-demons. But those only happened once.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Once was too much, honestly.”
An awkward silence took place in the room for a few seconds, as each girl was reminded of their lower points in this small “career” they had, dealing with magical phenomena.
“So, we just ask around for someone who knows about plants and literature and hope to get lucky?” Sunset questioned.
Rainbow shrugged. “She isn’t giving us much choice. She should’ve already shown her face. I mean, she knows you can’t just wait forever, right?”
“Maybe it’s a platonic kind of love?” Fluttershy proposed.
“Or maybe she’s just a creep.”
“Applejack!” Rarity exclaimed angrily.
“Sorry, but you all have to admit that this is a bit creepy. I mean, she supposedly has feelings for Sunset, but doesn’t show her face? Couldn’t it be that she’s just obsessed about her? What if we’re dealing with a stalker that follows Sunset around?”
“I think you’re exaggerating, darling.”
Applejack turned towards Sunset. “Ever since you’ve been receiving these “gifts” I’ve noticed that you look around yourself from time to time, like you want to find something or someone.”
“Well… I…” Sunset tried to come up with an explanation, but she wasn’t sure herself. She had been feeling distracted recently, zoning out and losing track of time.
“Are you sure you’re not denying being scared?” Applejack asked with genuine worry for her friend.
Sunset moved a hand through her hair. “Look, I don’t believe this person’s a creep or just reveres me like some sort of magical hero. It’s hard to explain but, I know they’re being genuine. Can you please trust me on this?”
Applejack looked at the rest of her friends, like if she wanted to confirm something before speaking. “Okay, I trust you.”
Sunset let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“So, we play hide and seek with this mysterious author?” Pinkie asked.
“Actually, I think I’ve an idea,” Sunset said with a smile.
The 15th of January was the day the Rainbooms had gathered for practice, and Wallflower had sneaked her way towards the practice room to hear them.
She loved their music, Sunset’s voice in particular, and it always gave her some time of happiness and peace during the day. She had tried joining them inside the room a few times, but she always ended leaving with the stone in her hand filled with new embarrassing and awkward memories.
Laying her back against the wall next to the white doors of the practice room, Wallflower closed her eyes and listened to their music, feeling it’s magic seep into her body and touch her heart. It was always comforting and relaxing, far different from the numbness that the stone provided her.
Wallflower opened her eyes and took out her green notepad, adding fresh ideas to its pages and going back to older ones to do some fixes and improvements. She got so lost in her sudden rush of inspiration that she barely noticed that the music had stopped playing, and the girls inside the practice room were talking to each other.
“...if your secret admirer won’t come out, how about we go find himhertheyit?”
“How would we do that?”
“Well, we can guess it’s a girl, that reduces the suspects a bit. What else can you guess from those poems she wrote?”
“She told them about the poems?” Wallflower thought as she placed her ear closer to the thin wall.
“She mentions flowers and nature a lot. That’s why I asked about a gardening club of some kind.”
“There is one… barely...” Wallflower’s hand went to her right pocket, instinctually wanting to take the sad reality out of her mind.
“The only one who would know a lot about that would be vice-principal Luna. You don’t think it could be her, right?”
“Luna...” Wallflower remembered when the vice-principal had found her working in the garden. She was about to use the stone on her, but Luna showed great interest in the flowers she was planting, and knew a lot about them and other types. They had spent a long time chatting and working together. It had been the most normal interaction Wallflower ever had, and she even forgot that the stone was in her pocket during that time. But when the day ended and they said goodbye, Wallflower knew it had been too good to be true.
And it was.
The vice-principal had promised to come back the next day to help her plant some Acacias, but Wallflower spent the entire day alone.
Luna had been busy, and forgot about her. Like everybody always did.
“Applejack!”
The loud shout snapped Wallflower out of her memories, bringing her back to the happier present.
“Sorry, but you all have to admit that this is a bit creepy. I mean, she supposedly has feelings for Sunset but doesn’t show her face? Couldn’t it be that she’s just obsessed about her? What if we’re dealing with a stalker that follows Sunset around?”
“S-stalker?!” Wallflower exclaimed in shock, covering her mouth as a splash of shame made her shiver. “I… I didn’t want… it’s just...” She covered her face as the consequences of her invisible existence started to shine. “They’re right… Even now I’m spying on them.” Wallflower bit her finger as tears ran down her cheeks. “Why would I even think someone like Sunset would care for a creep like me?”
The green notepad fell to the floor and the Memory Stone exited her right pocket, ready to take painful memories away, and the ones she cared the most too.
“Look, I don’t believe this person is a creep or just reveres me like some sort of magical hero. It’s hard to explain but, I know they’re being genuine. Can you please trust me on this?”
Wallflower froze, the stone seconds from being activated. “She said that...?” Her mind double checked, and yes, Sunset had said those words, in a tone of voice that sounded… hopeful…
“She… doesn’t think I’m a creep? But... I am… she just doesn't know it yet. I could change… for her... ” Wallflower grabbed her head like she was in pain. “No, people can’t change. I will always be a creep… Sunset did change… but I’m not Sunset. Maybe she could help me?... like she does with everybody?” Wallflower clenched her teeth. “But I’m not like everybody… I’m... me...”
The battle in her mind was starting to become too much to bear, and she had already lost track of the conversation between the Rainbooms, so Wallflower decided to flee, hiding the stone and taking the notepad from the floor before running to the exit of the school.
The next day, a Friday, Wallflower was the one who found a surprise on Sunset’s locker.
A small red note taped to the door, with one sentence written on it. A simple question:
“Could you write me a poem about yourself?”
Wallflower looked around, stone already out, but she was alone in the hallway. She always arrived earlier than everybody to be extra sure she wasn’t seen.
“She must’ve left it yesterday before leaving. Which means… after practice.” Wallflower took the paper with her and slipped her poem inside the locker before walking away to her hiding spot to see Sunset’s reaction.
After a few minutes, the hallway filled with students, and the flaming girl of her dreams was among them, but even as she smiled at the poem in her hands, Wallflower wasn’t really paying attention.
Her mind was filled with one single thought: Herself.
This thought overwhelmed any other that tried to make her think of something else. It haunted her all day, until she finally sat down on her desk, in front of the pink paper and white pencil that had created so much before.
When she picked up the pencil to write, the thought became unbearable.
Sunset’s weekend was spent waiting for Monday, the day she could return to school and receive a new poem.
She couldn’t stop imagining what she was going to find in her locker when she opened it, finding herself losing the track of time various times. She had spent the entire Sunday night exchanging theories with the girls, who were getting as excited as her, laughing at Pinkie’s usual string of random ideas.
When the day finally arrived, she sprang out of bed already with a happy smile. She resisted the temptation of coming earlier, not wanting to catch her secret admirer before the time was right, but when it was time to enter school she almost skipped to her locker, opening it wide to find… her books… Celestia’s diary… some other personal belongings…
But no poem.
“I tried...” Sunset turned around, finding a green girl with wild green hair wearing a brown striped sweater and jeans. “I really tried… I spent all weekend on my desk…” The girl was crying, hiding her face by looking straight at the floor in front of her shoes.
“You’re...” Sunset wracked her brain, trying to pinpoint a name, but the girl didn’t give her time.
Wallflower pulled out the Memory Stone from her right pocket, and pointed it at her. “You deserve someone better.”
“Wait!” Sunset shouted, and found herself standing in front of her locker, hand extended forwards, with no memories of why she did so.
When the night of the 18th of January fell on Canterlot, Wallflower was staring at a handful of pink papers with white words written on them.
Sunset had kept them in her bag, something only a friend or a stalker would know, and Wallflower knew she was the latter.
She read all of them one final time. All the beautiful words that could describe her feelings. Of what Sunset was to her.
Of what Wallflower didn’t deserve.
She folded the papers two times before throwing them in the thrash. She then took the bag outside and left it for the night crew to take it away.
Returning inside her home, she pulled out the Memory Stone from her right pocket, ready to bury the final evidence of her actions; her own memories.
She lifted the magical rock until it was in front of herself, and stared at the single eye on its surface.
Then nothing happened.
She had done this countless times, it was almost second nature to her, but even when she was staring at it in its stony “face”, the stone remained inactive, waiting desperately for her to issue the mental command so it could feast on more unwanted memories.
Wallflower let out a scream of frustration, and the stone flew across her room, bouncing unharmed against the wall.
She didn’t expect to feel more pathetic than she already was.
Even now, when all her chances had been ruined, and she had accepted that Sunset deserved someone that just… wasn’t her... she couldn’t let go of Sunset.
“I need to change schools,” she told herself, but all those plans she had already made for that escape were escaping her thoughts. And again, it was because of Sunset.
She loved her.
But didn’t deserve her.
Wallflower slowly stood up, and made her way back to her bedroom, finding her desk with the white pencil and pink paper notepad. The window of her room opened, and both items flew into the neighbor's lawn.
Defeated, exhausted, and hopeless, Wallflower fell on her bed, not bothering with removing her clothes or using the covers, and did her best to fall asleep despite the tears coming from her eyes.
In the morning of the 19th, Wallflower returned to school once more with a lethargic step. The world around her only emitted white noise, and it’s colors seemed to have dulled overnight.
She hadn’t really thought about coming to school, but she had taken the bus before realizing she had woken up, so here she was, moving on autopilot to complete another day.
She opened the entrance door, and after a few steps in, she noticed a crowd gathering in front of one of the walls of the hallway.
“What’s happening?” Wallflower wondered as she walked closer to the crowd, pushing her way into it so she could get a look at the source of so much attention, and when she finally got to the front, the world recovered its colors just for what was in front of her...
A painting.
A painting of Sunset. With blazing hair, shining sapphire eyes, smiling as she offered a hand to some unknown figure hidden in shadows that were receding from her warm, golden glow.
“I think Shimmer let a bit of her fame get to her head,” someone critiqued, but Wallflower knew what the painting meant.
She looked at the date… 11th of January.
“That means...” Wallflower moved out of the crowd and sprinted down the hallways, inspecting the walls until she found another painting, a flytrap surrounded by a circle of Asters, which was also surrounded by a circle of Glory Flowers.
She looked at the date… 12th of January.
Wallflower took off running again, finding more paintings, more dates, until eventually, when she turned a corner… she saw her.
When the night of the 18th of January fell on Canterlot, Sunset was laying on her bed, deep in thought.
Something magical had happened, which the average person would think is a good thing, but Sunset was from Equestria.
She somehow forgot about everything her secret admirer had done for her, her poems had been stolen, and even her friends questioned her sanity until she showed them the conversations they had about the girl.
Whatever magic had been used, it hadn’t erased the data from their phones, and also didn’t steal the paintings.
Sunset turned her head towards the canvas that lined her wall, the only evidence she had that the poems existed.
She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, trying to understand.
What had happened?
“Magic erased my friend’s and my own memories of the secret admirer.”
Where did it happen?
“In front of my locker, it was the last time I found myself losing the flow of time.”
How did it happen?
“Equestrian magic, of course.”
Why did it happen?
“Because…”
Who did it?
“…”
Sunset sat on the bed and faced the paintings, taking in the colors, the shapes, and the feelings in them.
She felt a spark in her brain, and she stood up before making her way to an empty canvas. Preparing the usual colors she had used in the previous paintings, Sunset took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and started to imagine what she would paint. Its colors. Its shapes.
Her feelings.
In the morning of the 19th, Sunset hung all her paintings around the school, hands sweating with anxiety, wondering if her plan would work.
But the last one, the one she painted the night before, was still in her hands.
A Weeping Willow surrounded by a garden of flowers, and resting against it, was the silhouette of a girl writing on a notepad.
Sunset heard sneakers scraping against the tile floor, and turned her head to see Wallflower arrive, out of breath, and riding on some small level of adrenaline.
Sunset looked at her. Her colors. Her shape.
She then looked at the painting in her hands. The colors. The shape of the silhouette.
Wallflower was about to take a step backwards, hand reaching for her right pocket.
“What’s your name?” Sunset asked softly, making her freeze in place.
Wallflower’s head was working overtime. “What do I do? The stone didn’t work. She remembers what I did. She probably knows that I took her memories… and yet… she’s asking my name.”
“W-Wallflower...” she answered, her foot now moving forwards.
Sunset smiled, taking a step towards her. “You probably already know my name.” She looked at the painting one more time before showing it to her. “I didn’t have a poem for this one.”
“S-Sorry...” Wallflower’s hand moved away from her right pocket, and she took another step forward. “I… I’m sorry about… all I did.”
“Don’t worry, we can talk about it. I-” They both heard steps getting closer to them. The rest of the students had figured out the trail of breadcrumbs.
Wallflower instinctually went for the Memory Stone, but her hand was caught by Sunset’s.
“Let’s go to the practice room.” The redhead pointed to the white doors nearby with her head, hoping to prevent the girl from escaping back to anonymity.
Wallflower looked at Sunset in the eyes for the first time at this close distance.
She didn’t see ill judgement, or caution, or rejection, or disgust, or even uncertainty.
Sunset’s eyes were just how she had described them in her poems.
“O-okay.”
The two girls quickly entered the practice room, and Sunset locked it to make sure they wouldn’t get some unexpected visitor. She then turned around to face the girl that had both evaded and followed her the entire week, probably even before that.
She looked scared, nervous, insecure of what to do. A total mess of a person.
Sunset started to understand a lot of things about her, especially the words “You deserve someone better.”.
“Do you like the painting?”
Wallflower moved her head towards Sunset, her doubts about what to do being put aside at the sound of her voice.
She looked at the painting Sunset was holding, and immediately noticed a clear difference between it and the previous paintings she had seen.
It lacked their brightness. Their charm.
The flowers were generic and had no meaning behind them.
The tree gave a depressing feeling to the whole piece, and the silhouette was… shaped like her.
Wallflower slowly shook her head. “Sorry.”
Against her expectations, Sunset smiled. “I know, some works aren't good on the first try, but I’m rather fond of this one.” She looked down at the painting. “So, I think with a bit of practice and effort, I can paint a version that truly shows how beautiful it can be. Would you like that?” Sunset raised her head, and saw Wallflower’s hand exit her right pocket, a weirdly shaped stone in her hand.
She held the painting more tightly, hoping that her words had worked.
“I...” Wallflower looked at the stone, then at the painting, and finally at Sunset.
Her hands were still shaking with anxiety, her heart still drummed almost painfully in her chest, the stone still suggested she just erased everything and went back to feeling numb, and her mind still had a million reasons why she didn’t deserve to be near Sunset. But despite all that, she wanted to hope for a better future. One where she could wake up every morning with a smile, have someone who genuinely wanted to see her, and be there for them, just like they were for her.
“I would like that.” She took her bag and threw the stone inside, denying it its meal, before taking out her green notepad. “Maybe… maybe some poetry will inspire you?”
Sunset smiled, leaving the painting against the wall. “I know it will.”
They both took some chairs and sat down together, looking at Wallflower's notes and poems, sharing ideas and inspiration as the hours passed.
The 20th of January was a special day for Wallflower and Sunset.
It was the day of their first date.
Author's Note
I oficially hate poetry, and anyone with the dedicated braincells to write good poetry has my respects. 
