Humiliating. That's the first thing Adagio thinks, every day, when she steps into the back and puts on her apron. It's humiliating just how far she's fallen. How effectively Starswirl's little trick of tossing her and the rest of the Dazzling's has worked in seeing them brought low. Oh, sure, for a while she lived like a goddess, but now? Her magical necklace shattered, her voice so broken she couldn't give so much as a falsetto, and her signature smugness smashed into the ground and shattered so thoroughly that she may never, ever, ever recover it. Their riches dried up in but a few days, the charity of her patrons gone with their voices... And all of it done by one Sunset Shimmer.
...Who seems to have promptly forgotten she existed. Just one more indignity to add to the count, she supposes, alongside downgrading from a mansion to an apartment and having to pay rent (a phrase that elicits a myriad of unique and interesting types of disgust both on Adagio's features and in her soul.) Pale yellow hands grip her voluminous hairpoof, squeezing it together and tossing it into something vaguely approximating a ponytail. As much as she'd love to wear it down, people complain when their sandwiches come with half their weight in hair, and as much as she loathes every single person who comes to this overpriced shack for their daily dose of sugarmilk, even she can understand why they'd not be particularly pleased by that. Over her head, her apron goes-- Nametag straightened, sharpies checked, and off to the proverbial races she goes.
"About time," her shift lead says beneath her breath as she steps out.
"Bite me," she responds, a snap that she quickly steps away from before the retort can come-- Quickly sidestepping the new hire running a handful of croissants down to handoff as she casts a look askance, over towards her nominal boss. She's made a point of not remembering any of their names. They don't matter, anyways.
"You're on handoff," she says, waving her away with a roll of the eyes. Fortunately for Adagio, they don't have anywhere near enough staff to think about actually firing her for her attitude-- For all her sourness, she shows up on time and shows up when she's scheduled, and quite honestly that's more than can usually be expected for the sorts of people who have a job here.
Her thoughts get interrupted by a latte being pressed into her hands. Quickly, she steps over to the counter... And calls out the name. And then the next. And the next. And the next...
"Have a cafe order for Firecracker, here!~"
"Mobile order, Aloe Vera!"
"Mobile order, Buzz!"
"Cafe order, Blueberry!"
It's a rote. Easy to get into. Grab a drink. Pull down the sleeve. Look at the tag. Call it out. Set it up. Repeat. Keep doing that for around eight hours and she can go home and stop debasing herself for money. At least the pay's pretty decent...
"...Mobile order, Batmare!"
$14.75 an hour is not worth this.
...
It's only after the morning rush is over that Adagio gets a chance to relax, grabbing a wet rag from the sanitizer bucket and setting to work wiping down what spills and stains remain on her counter. Her shift lead's stepped into the back to pull out more food-- Her bar barista's squatting down, checking her phone behind the counter while nobody's looking... And she's just enjoying the chance to finally have some silence. No weird old dudes telling her to smile more. No people shouting into their phones and snatching their drinks out of her hands. Just plain, normal, everyday silence...
...And then the door's bell rings, as two girls step in. Of course. She had to jinx it, didn't she?
"Hi there! Welcome to Starbucks, Blaze'll help you at the register right over there!" She greets, her face lit up with her most inauthentic retail grin, voice a thoroughly saccharine tone that utterly belies the sheer, seething bitterness of the woman beneath. The two offer their own quiet platitudes in response-- A girl with green hair and a woolen coat, and another with long, streaked blue hair and a dress. The first one is, in some extremely vague way, familiar to Adagio-- But then again, she doesn't keep track of the people who adored her, once.
"I swear to god, Wally, you'll love it," the blue-haired girl starts. "Like, I get that you don't like coffee, I totally get it!"
'Then you're in the right place because coffee's practically an afterthought here,' Adagio muses to herself as she cleans...
"But they have suuuuuch good drinks. Like, even if you don't want espresso, they have fruity stuff, or-- or hot chocolate, or milkshakes!"
"Frappuccinos," the massive woman standing behind the register corrects. "Similar but distinct. Made with coffee or cream. Blended with ice. Want to try one?"
"...no," the green-haired girl mumbles.
"Awh... Alright, well! Here, let me demonstrate." Her companion responds, clearing her throat, straightening her back, and broadening her shoulders as if she was about to march into battle in order to order a drink.
"...I'll have a taaaaall hot white mocha, with two shots of espresso and half pumps mocha!" She says, a polite smile on her face as she lists off. Her delivery, if you ask Adagio, is a little bit overblown-- Confidence stressed as if she went over the sentence in her mind beforehand just to ensure that she didn't stumble over any words and sound less certain.
"And what'll you have, Wally?" She asks, stepping out of the way... And letting 'Wally' take the till. The meeker of the two gives the register partner a look very similar to that a deer gives a car shortly before being hit... Before immediately, her eyes shoot away, to latch onto the menu and let her very, very obvious social anxiety fade beneath the much more familiar feeling of decision anxiety.
Adagio leans forward, one hand drumming against the countertop while her other rests her cheek in her palm, staring boredly at the two as she waits. The girl raises a hand. She lowers it. She goes 'ah!', but never continues. She can almost see her start to sweat. For a moment, it looks like she's about to apologize and step away...
...before the blue-haired girl offers her hand. She takes it... Takes a breath, and points. "Uh, I'll-- A grande, uh, Mango Dragonfruit with Lemonade, please."
"Understood," Blaze responds, brushing back her long golden mane as she taps it in. "A name for the order, if you would?"
"Juniper," the blue-haired girl responds, quickly slipping her card into the reader and offering her thanks to the massive mare behind the till-- Gently pulling 'Wally' away. Adagio watches them as they approach, turning her service industry smile back on once she's confident she's in their view... And, after casting a glance askance to ensure nobody else is planning on walking in, she listens.
"You did great, Wally...!" Juniper says, voice quiet yet full of enthusiasm, eyes shining with excitement and pride.
"I-- uh, I don't, really follow. I still froze up," Wally responds, one hand gripping her elbow as she clearly struggles to maintain eye contact with the other. Adagio's fingers drum, her thoughts running through what sort of relationship these two have. Are they friends? No, a little bit too familiar even for that-- Skinship's fine and all, but they're acting maybe a bit too close for what she understands to be considered conventionally friendly. Roommates, maybe...?
"You did -fine-. More than fine. Give it a few more tries and you'll be able to do it without me or anyone else there. I believe in you." Juniper continues... As she reaches down, takes Wally's hand again, and leans forward to give the other a gentle kiss. Just a peck on the lips. It's still enough to make Adagio's brow quirk.
Oh. They're roommates. In the 'historian' sense, just like how Sappho was close friends with many a woman. All that being said, the saccharine sound of supportive girlfriends is starting to wear on her nerves... And so, she does the only thing she can think of to make it stop. She clears her throat... And leans forward.
"Hi there. You two are cute, can I just say," she drawls, voice low and drawn out, "but I gotta ask-- You sure Starbucks is the place to take such a pretty lady on a date?"
"Oh-- Oh, no no, this isn't where we're going for a date," Juniper responds, glancing between the two of them before releasing Wally's hand... "We're just stopping in for a drink on the way to the date. Juniper Montage, I'm, uh, I'm bringing her to see a movie."
"I'm excited," Wally says, quietly, in the background. Adagio responds only with a momentary glance, eyes lidded with disinterest and boredom that heavily contrasts the fake smile she's wearing.
"A movie. Rrrreally. Now, stop me if the advice is unwanted," she's hardly wanting to give it, anyway, but she'd be even more bored if she wasn't talking, "but movies tend to be pretty crap dates. Sitting elbow to elbow with some random schmuck, listening to the screen boom, getting shushed every time you say a word-- They're fun, yeah, but isn't the point of a date to get to know someone, spend some time with 'em? Kinda hard to do that and still follow theater etiquette."
"All very good points!" Miss Montage responds, hands clasped together-- Eyes alight with joy at the opportunity to talk about something she's so - very - clearly passionate about. "Add in the fact that Wallflower's a bit of a, uh, aheh, wallflower... And normally speaking, a date to a movie theater wouldn't be a very good one. However," She reaches back to grab Wallflower's hand as she continues, almost using her as a prop to emphasize her point-- Make clear how well she knows her... "There are two things about us that change that up a bit. Number one! Wallflower feels a lot more comfortable in conversation when there's something to focus on and talk about. She has some trouble talking to others when it's just, y'know, her and them and nothing else, so having a movie to discuss'll really help her get out of her shell!"
Adagio stares. After a moment, she realizes her smile's dropped. She quickly re-adjusts it to its full, cheek-dimpling form, offering a polite nod. "Yes, but you still run into the problem of not being able to talk with anyone while you're in the theater."
"And that's number two-- I have my uncle's private theater all to myself today. It'll just be me - and - her!"
That gets an actual reaction out of Adagio. Her brow raises... And for a moment, her fake smile turns into a genuine smirk. As much as she'd be happy to laugh about how terribly this date looks like it's gonna go... It seems to her like the woman's actually got it pretty decently figured out. And then, of course, she remembers that she doesn't care about these people or what they're doing or if their days go well and also that she hates this job, and thusly her smile falls back into a fake one as quickly as her real one came.
"Pretty good thinking. What do you think, Wallflower?" Adagio calls out, towards the woman lurking back near the napkins.
"Uhm... I-- I already said I'm excited, right? Yeah. Still excited...!" She responds, after she gets through the split-second panic attack that is being addressed directly. Hearing that makes Juniper smile, casting a look back at her... And just missing the sight of their drinks being brought down. Adagio's quick to grab both of them and push them forward, straightening her back and rolling her shoulder.
"Here you are, you two. Enjoy your movie, now, and feel free to come back any time."
"We will!~" Juniper responds, her voice a singsong tone as she takes the beverages, offers a mock bow... And quickly ushers Wallflower out the door, offering little more than a 'thank you!' before the thing closes behind her. Adagio watches them walk away...
...And offers a sigh. Man. She hasn't thought about Sappho in a while. Good times, they had. Good times. With nobody else to chat with, she pulls out her phone... And starts doing what she does every day, when she's bored. Scrolling through cat pictures.
...
Outside, Wallflower casts a look back, towards the store. Juniper stops, tilting her head in a gesture of confusion. "...Uh, did you forget something back there, hun?"
"...No, no. She's just... Familiar. Feel like I've seen her before." Wallflower's expression is one of thought, lips pursed as she wracks her brain trying to figure out where, exactly, she remembers her from...
"Really! Not a lot of folks you know. Think she went to CHS, too?"
"...Maybe? Been a while. Doesn't matter. Let's go."
...Magical. It was something magical. She remembers that. Maybe she should send a text, just to be safe-- Ask one of her friends to send someone to check. Her hand runs over her phone, in her pocket... And after a moment, she pulls it out.
To: Rarity
{hi}
{Hello, Wallflower darling! How's the date been going?}<
{pretty good, stopped @ starbucks}
{Oh, that's wonderful! I hope you found a good order. <3}<
{yeah. hey, do you know anyone with really big puffy orange hair?}
{It... rings a bell, though the exact person who I've sadly forgotten. Why?}<
{saw a girl behind the counter there who was familiar.}
{remembered it was something magical. maybe visit and check?}
{Interesting! I'm a bit busy with a rush order, right now, though.}<
{Perhaps I'll send Sweetie Belle to grab me an order there soon.}<
{kay thanks, good luck with the sewing}
{Luck is the last thing I need, dear.~}<
Author's Note
Hi there! After reading enough fanfics to permanently melt my mind, I finally decided that I might as well actually put to paper one of my own design. I've most certainly spent more than my fair share of time at Starbucks, and of that, most of it was spent decidedly behind the counter. Much of the technical details and general gripes on how the place works are thusly from personal experience!
I hope that you enjoyed it, and I'll see you soon with the next chapter. <3
On a conceptual level, Adagio can understand why Starbucks does the promotions it does. Their meatless sandwiches aren't selling enough to justify continuing to produce them? Make every Monday two dollars off for them, advertise it as supporting people eating less meat. People need an excuse to come in and buy a ten-dollar drink of blood-sugar spiking 'coffee' during the holidays? Offer them a chintzy free plastic cup if they buy the newest mass-advertised, overly-holiday-themed brand of unhealthy life decisions. It's just that she can also understand on a conceptual level why it irritates her so.
Behind the counter she stands, a pair of goofy foam reindeer horns over her hat, absolutely -simmering- with unvoiced rage at the sheer indignity of it all-- Forced to swallow her pride, lest she find herself without a job and swiftly in need of a new one. Even with that considered, there's a constant back and forth in her head on if it'd be worth it-- If she could find some job behind a grocery store's counter fast enough to justify telling her store manager just where she can stuff her holiday cheer.
A peppermint white chocolate mocha for her. A caramel brulee latte for him. A six-shot straight espresso for herself on her break so that she can at least pretend to have the energy to continue this god-awful shift, and a thoroughly forced smile when she sees Miss Rich come in for her six-shot caramel frappe, take a sip, and insist that she can only taste five shots. All the pain of an average day, mixed with the added humiliation of being dressed like Rudolph throughout-- What's not to love?
Part of her wonders if this is, perhaps, some sort of hell that she's found herself in. A Sisyphean task meant to punish her for daring to force others to serve her in life after she died of the trauma of losing her voice at the battle of the bands. A bigger part of her wonders just when the rush is going to end so she can finally get back to stalking Sonata's new boyfriend to see if he's a creep or not.
...
...It's a good hour and a half later that the last of the people who came in finally, -finally- walk out the door. The (stallion? mare? Too androgynous, can't tell, don't care.) behind the espresso bar all-but collapses, leaning against the counter and placing their head in their hands for a moment. After another, and a furtive glance down the aisle to make sure their shift lead's still in the back playing Peggle instead of actually helping, they squat down and pull out their phone-- Eager to take advantage of the lull in activity in order to get in some much-needed social media.
Technically, Adagio's supposed to scold them and inform them that phones aren't allowed to be out while you're on shift except for a few quick seconds to check the time. In practice, Adagio could not give a single, solitary fuck what the corporate rulebook says, and in fact joins them in their flagrant violation of it-- Retrieving her own phone, and quickly tapping in her password...
...Only to almost drop it in shock as the door's bell rings. She quickly fumbles to recover it, shoving it back into her pocket and offering a trademark Starbucks Gun-To-The-Back-Of-My-Head grin. "Hello, welcome to Starbucks, how can I--"
A pause. Her eyes register what she's seeing. Child, purple hair, orange skin. Second child, pink and purple hair, white skin. Third child, red hair, yellow skin.
Oh, she recognizes them. They fought in the Battle.
"--help you?" she finishes, lamely, glancing to the side and quickly raising her hand to cover her face. Hopefully they don't recognize her-- It -has- been a minute since then, and quite frankly they finished so far from the finals she'd be surprised if they saw her more than twice before the main event.
"Hi! We'd like 'ta place an order," the red-haired child whose name she is certain involves the word Apple and yet has no other thoughts in her head about starts, her voice a cutesy little drawl. "I'll have a tall mocha cookie crumble," the orange-skinned one continues, eyes wide as she speeds up to the counter...
"...That's great," Adagio responds, "but I'm just here to give you your drinks. If you wanna order them, the register's right over there."
"Oh," the three say in unison. They spend a moment, exchanging awkward glances... And then they quickly sidestep down the aisle, to find themselves at the register (and, as Adagio is very thankful for, out of her hair.) Sure, she could listen to what they ordered and do her best to try and figure out what terrible stereotype of a customer they'd be when they grew up... But quite frankly, that's more emotional energy than she's willing to commit to anyone who so much as -watched- that mess of a show. So, instead, her time is whiled away scrolling through social media and idly judging the single person who seems to be willing to put up with her taco-loving-stereotyped partner-in-crime. (Admittedly, it's a stereotype well earned, but she has -more to her than a love for Mexican food, damnit,- even if Adagio's almost always the first to tease her for it.)
She on a subconscious level recognizes the three of them wander back to the handoff counter and begin chatting, but on a very conscious level she makes it a point to completely and utterly ignore them. No glances their way. No acknowledgment of their existence. Nothing that might indicate she's ever seen them before or ever wants to see them again.
"...Sure am glad they trust us again," the one with the orange skin and purple hair murmurs.
"Yeah. Been a little while. I mean, sure, what we did to Sunset was rotten, but they could've--"
Adagio's hands slap the counter, making the mugs that hold the sugars and stirring sticks rattle from the sudden force of the slam. Her eyes focus -immediately- onto them. Their discussion, suddenly speared through by the sound of the woman's outburst, is interrupted, and the three turn to stare at the suddenly much more active Siren-in-disguise.
"...Oh! Sorry. Catching a fly. Can't have it floating around the store, y'know?" She excuses, shaking her hand as if to flick it clean. "But I couldn't help but overhear that it seems you three got into some sort of trouble. Now, forgive me if I'm prying too far, but it's gonna be a little bit until your drinks are ready anyways," she thinks. At least one of them ordered a frappucino, so it's not like it's gonna be -quick-. "So I figured I might as well offer some advice. Y'know, from someone who's been in their fair share of drama themselves."
Understatement of the century, there.
...The trio exchange glances, between each other-- The orange-skinned one seems most reticent, from what Adagio can see... But eventually, the pink-and-purple haired one steps forward.
"Yeah... Yeah. I suppose it wouldn't hurt. We did tell everyone we did it anyways, so what's one more?" She starts.
"I dunno," the orange one interjects, only to be shushed by the red-haired one, who steps forward alongside her friend.
"...Alright, if 'yer askin'. Applebloom, by the way. This here's Sweetie Belle," she gestures towards the one who spoke first, "and that back there's Scootaloo." If Adagio is celebrating her successful guess on Applebloom's name involving the word Apple, she doesn't show it. Instead, she simply puts a little bit more effort into her smile as she leans forward... And speaks, her voice so forcefully twisted to sound as supportive as possible, eyes lidded.
"Nice to meet you all. I'm Ada. Now, what's this about drama?"
"Well, you see..." Applebloom starts, hesitantly...
"...got jealous of the time our sisters were spendin' with her..."
"...just a few pictures, nothin' fancy-like..."
"...whole school got up into a hum-drum about it th' likes 'ya never seen..."
"...turned their backs on 'er, left her all alone without even tryin'a think of anyone else who might'a..."
"...So that's when we decided to come out about it. We told everyone it was us who set the entire thing up-- Just used some'a the old dirt that she had on the folks around and made it look like she was up to her old tricks. Y'know, manipulatin' and lyin' and blackmail." She finishes, eyes downcast. Scootaloo rubs her shoulder, nervously-- Sweetie Belle seems to be more interested in her phone than in matching eyes with Adagio...
...Which she is completely fine with. The last thing she wants them to see is the spiteful little grin on her face-- So carefully hidden behind her hands, raised as if to express shock at their deeds. Oh, how her eyes are atwinkle with sadistic enjoyment of their story-- At hearing how quickly the little 'friendship' Sunset formed to see her and her band broken turned against her at the slightest provocation. Oh, it takes all she has not to break out into a vicious, villainous giggle at the mental image of her nemesis left in despair at her friends' abandonment...
...But she does have something else to direct that energy at. She clears her throat, straightens her back... And puts on her best big-sister glare as she crosses her arms and stares down at them.
"...Wow. An entire organized smear campaign by just you three? All to target one girl? She must have -really- gotten on your bad side. Now, obviously, you've learned not to do that again," 'that', in this case, being 'turn themselves in before the damage is fully done,' "and I most certainly wasn't there to watch," as fun as it would've been... "but even so, I'm surprised. You three are such nice girls, after all. What got into you?"
"...Jealousy, I guess," Applebloom says. "We just... Saw her bein' happy with our friends, an' we felt left out, so we decided 'ta break it all down."
...That much makes the Siren's smirk fade, just a tad. Not because she's any less enthusiastic about the topic of 'Sunset Shimmer suffering for what she did', of course, but simply because in an odd way, she can understand that-- Feeling left out, forgotten about.
It's how she feels. Like she got beaten and tossed on the wayside, an afterthought to the story of Sunset Shimmer's heroism. The mere idea of it is enough to make her want to grind her teeth.
"...Well, jealousy can make people do really silly things. If you do feel bad for it, then I guess that means you learned your lesson." Platitudes, mostly-- She can't exactly be seen encouraging children to keep cyberbullying -behind the counter-, and quite frankly now that she's heard their story she's rapidly losing interest in their continued presence.
"Yeah," Scootaloo finishes, with a sigh. "I guess we have."
...A nudge from the back catches Adagio by surprise. Behind her, the bar partner stands, holding three drinks-- After a moment's pause, the siren takes them, quickly sorting them out in front of the three. Two tall double-chocolate-chip mocha frappucinos (apparently the person on register decided to talk the kids out of having coffee in their milkshakes-- good call,) and one venti strawberry creme frappe. After a moment, her fingers dance to the straw container... And to each, she bestows one, a final flourish to finish off their artery-clogging beverages.
"Enjoy. Thank you for choosing Starbucks, and I'll be seeing you soon, I hope." That's a lie. She hopes the exact opposite.
"You will!" They answer, truthfully and in harmony as they claim their prizes-- The chocolates for Applebloom and Scootaloo, and the strawberry creme for Sweetie Belle. As quickly as they entered, they speed out the door-- Offering little more than a wave in parting, towards them, before the glass door clatters shut behind them. Adagio lets out a sigh of relief at their departure-- Her hands already back to her phone as she returns to enjoying the free time having no customers grants her. A thumb scrolls back to her latest search, and once more, she digs into just who's trying to woo Sonata. Now, who is this 'Bulk Biceps', exactly...
...
...The three of them huddle together, Sweetie Belle's phone the center of their attention. Eyes glance between each other, an unanswered question dancing from each gaze to the next. Were they sure? Was it true? Was it -her-? After a moment, they look down, taking in the unassuming figure of the barista they had just spoken about their misadventures in blackmail to... And then, with a simple swipe up, they send.
To: Big Sis!!
[IMG_0289.PNG]
{hi, got the drink!! also took a picture of the girl like you asked!}
{...Ah.}<
{what's up???}
{Nothing terrible, I assure you, Sweetie Belle. Thank you for going to the effort.}<
{I'm simply going to need to discuss this between our friends.}<
{If she's working there, I doubt she's causing any trouble...}<
{...But, well, leaving the business with those three unfinished always left Sunset with a sour taste.}<
{ooooh, okay. are we good then?}
{If that strawberry creme gets to me and isn't half empty, yes, we are. Your last chore is done.}<
{wooooo!}
{...Your last chore -in repayment for Anon-a-Miss,- anyways.}<
{what}
{what does that mean}
{RARITY}
Author's Note
Hello again! Thank you for the interest you've shown, and I'm happy to present to you the second chapter of this particular tale.
Adagio Dazzle hates her job and is the single most spiteful woman in town, but at least it's a very mellow kind of spite, not 'seeking vengeance'.
...And she does have at least a bit of a soft side, for the other two Dazzlings.
I'll be seeing you again soon for the third chapter-- Involving a certain child who has a very -concerning- personality.
