Sowing the SeedsView OnlinePotted PlantSowing the SeedsAnon adjusts his sun hat before stepping outside with a smile. He takes a deep breath, appreciating the fresh air and the warm summer sun. There’s a gentle breeze in Ponyville this morning, and it’s looking to be a pleasant day. With his overalls secured and a trowel in his hand he steps off of his back porch, ready to spend a long morning tending to his meticulously-cared-for garden. He’s got plants of every shape and size back here. There are a few shrubs and ferns along the fence, as well as a healthy-looking lemon tree growing in the corner of the yard. However, the most notable aspect of the garden are the countless vegetables being grown in rows across the sizable plot of land. Eggplants, onions, peppers, cucumbers, cabbages, potatoes, tomatoes, even a few cauliflower plants each have a section all to themselves. They’re all at varying stages of growth, of course, but they look to be coming in well. This is due in no small part to Anon’s dedication. He always has had a bit of a green thumb, and learning that crops grow way easier in Equestria than his old world (and that the growing seasons aren’t quite the same) came as a pleasant surprise. On top of the assortment of veggies, there’s one plant in particular he’s extremely proud of. Against the back fence, right there at its center, is a massive rose bush. The roses themselves haven’t fully bloomed yet, but it’s a sight that he’s been anticipating all year. Still, compared to the countless other plants in the yard, the bush doesn’t stand out much at the moment. He glances towards the right side of the fence, where a large, unlocked gate hangs partially open. He sighs, but a gentle smile creeps along his face. He keeps that gate unlocked on purpose. As far as he’s concerned, if his vegetables are making someone happy, he’s doing a darn fine job as a gardener. He welcomes anyone who wants some fresh veggies to come on in and pick what they want, so long as they don’t harm any of the other plants. Of course, Anon does have some limits he places upon himself. He doesn’t grow certain crops that might compete with Sweet Apple Acres, for example, nor does he allow anyone to pick the flowers. They’re simple enough rules, and those geared towards everyone else are written on a wooden sign hanging on the outside of the short fence. He just wishes that whoever came in last would have shut the gate behind them. Rabbits are no joke, regardless of what Fluttershy may tell you. He gently shuts the somewhat-rusty gate before turning back towards his garden, ready to get to work pulling weeds and planting some new carrot seeds he bought yesterday. However, before he can start, something strange catches his eye. “Uhh… hello?” A small mare rests under the shade of the lemon tree. She’s not doing anything in particular, apart from perhaps enjoying the shade. When he calls out to her, she looks right at him. Her face looks distant, almost bored. However, as soon as she locks eyes with him, those eyes go wide. She actually blends in with the garden fairly well. Her coat is a light green, with her mane being a darker shade of green. It’s wavy and somewhat unkempt, not unlike some of the shrubs growing around her. Freckles dot her cheeks, and her brown eyes look gentle and unassuming. Her cutie mark looks to be a small, somewhat stifled and droopy potted plant. “Are you okay?” A light “eep!” escapes the mare and without missing a beat, she leaps over the nearby fence and runs around the side of the house, directly out of his line of sight. “Well, that was strange.” Anon shrugs. He’s never seen the mare around before, so maybe she’s new in town? Oh, well. She’s definitely the timid type, that’s for sure. If she doesn’t want to speak, so be it. As far as he’s concerned, this garden is public property that he just takes care of. Nothing wrong with her taking a rest here if she enjoys the environment. After all, he naps under that tree sometimes, too. Now, it’s time to plant some carrots! “Ow ow ow ow ow.” Anon tries to straighten out his back, only to be greeted with several loud popping sounds and some searing pain. He really needs to work on his posture when he’s gardening. Speaking of, it’s been a few hours since he started. All the seeds are in the ground, all of the weeds have been pulled, everything has received an adequate amount of water, and he even caught a couple of his tomato plants with diseased leaves. A bit of trimming and some vinegar later and they should be good to go. He glances to the sky. The sun hangs directly above him. It’s right around noon, and the breeze has more or less disappeared. It’s gotten a lot hotter, and while he could just go back inside, he wants to appreciate the garden that he spent all morning tending to. Deciding to take a page out of that mysterious mare’s book, he takes a seat in the shade beneath the lemon tree, leaning his back against its sturdy trunk and removing his hat before resting his hands behind his head. In the cool shade of the tree, it’s much more pleasant outside. He’s still quite sweaty and has soil in every nook and cranny, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t content and comfortable. The satisfaction of a job well done is all he needs on days like this, and he dreams of the day that every single plant in the garden is fully grown and beautiful. He doesn’t even realize that he’s tired until the sound of quiet trotting rouses him from a light slumber. Hooves gently and rhythmically strike the dirt road along the side of his house before coming to a sudden stop. From the ground, Anon can just barely see a familiar green mane poking out from over the fence before the gate slowly creaks open. The unnamed mare from before carefully peers around the opened gate, slowly scanning the garden before locking eyes with Anon. He looks back at her for a moment before giving her a gentle smile and wave, causing those brown eyes of hers to widen. “Hello again!” “...” She looks behind herself, just to confirm that she’s the only pony he could possibly be referring to. “Uh… hi?” “I don’t know if you saw the sign, but it’s perfectly fine for you to enter the garden. I know I look a bit strange, but I don’t bite.” “...Right. Right.” She repeats that word quietly as if trying to convince herself to believe him. She slowly steps into the garden while using one of her back legs to close the gate behind her. “Um…” Anon chuckles as he slowly sits upright, adjusting his hat along the way. “My name is Douglas, but everyone just calls me Anon.” “...” The mare tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. “Why?” “Er, that was what the papers called me when I showed up one day. No one knew what I was yet, so I figured I would just stick with what ponies were already calling me. Besides, I’ve been told Douglas isn’t exactly a common name around here.” “Neither is Anon.” “...Hehe, true.” The mare sighs. “Alright, ‘Anon.’ We’ve got a bit of a problem.” “Oh?” He straightens his back in an effort to show that he’s taking her seriously. “What kind of problem?” “The kind of problem that involves us having this conversation at all. You’re… you’re not supposed to be able to do that.” Anon blinks. “That’s a strange thing to say.” The mare stares at him for a moment before sighing yet again, something she seems to do often. “Look, my whole thing is passing under everypony’s radar. I blend in so well that I have to make a concentrated effort for someone to notice that I’m even there. It’s my cutie mark and everything.” She turns somewhat to show off the potted plant decorating her flank. “So how in the world did you see me earlier?” “Well…” Anon grumbles as he rubs his chin. “I’m not sure. I didn’t really think anything of it, I guess. I like my garden, and there was a mysterious mare over in the corner. It just seemed polite to say ‘hello.’” “Gardens are, like, the most difficult place to identify me, though! It’s in my name!” “Which is?” “O-oh.” A slight blush spreads across the mare’s cheeks. “S-sorry, I’m not very used to introducing myself.” She sheepishly clears her throat before continuing. “Wallflower Blush. I’m an artist.” “Well, it’s nice to meet you properly, Miss Blush.” “...” She awkwardly shuffles in place for a moment before continuing. “I-I’m just not really sure what to do about this.” “I think I’m still a bit lost. You’re concerned because I was able to see you?” “Well, yeah!” “How is that a bad thing?” “I’ve… ugh.” She rubs her temple with a hoof as she tries to think of how to explain her situation. “I’ve made a habit of ponies not noticing me. It grants me a lot of privileges others don’t have.” “Such as?” “I never get needlessly bothered by ponies I don’t like, I can go wherever I want without fear of getting judged or tossed out, I can get away with just about anything–” “Er, not to interrupt, but that sounds a lot like you’re doing something illegal.” “N-no!” She stomps a hoof on the ground as she looks at him with wide, genuinely pleading eyes. “W-well, maybe I trespass every so often. But I never take anything or do something wrong! I just…” “Nap in gardens?” “Yes, actually.” She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. “So, I was a little freaked out when you noticed me this morning.” “Hm.” He does his best to give her a reassuring smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re always welcome here.” “That’s not the problem. You being able to see me is weird, and I’m kind of uncomfortable with it.” “I can’t help the fact that I can see you, Miss Blush.” “Do you think you could like, I don’t know, try to ignore me from now on or something?” Anon tilts his head as he quietly thinks for a moment. “I guess I could, but I’d be missing out on a potential friend.” “F-friend?” “Anypony that can appreciate a nice garden is fine in my book. And I’ve seen you looking around since you got here.” He motions towards the garden around them, causing the sense of pride he felt after finishing his work to return. “I’m happy to share this with others. Especially those that can understand how much work goes into it.” “A friend, huh?” Her voice is a mumble, and Anon can’t quite make out what she’s saying. “That’d be a new one.” “I’m sorry, what was that?” “It’s nothing.” With a shake of her head, Wallflower turns around and starts walking towards the gate. “I’m sorry for bothering you.” “It was really no trouble. Come back any time!” Anon shouts as she walks back through the gate. “Hmhm. She seems like a nice mare.” He grunts as he finally brings himself to his feet. “If only ponies would remember to close the darn gate when they leave.”
Happy to HelpView OnlinePotted PlantHappy to HelpWallflower quietly strides through the crowded marketplace with practiced ease. Even in broad daylight with dozens of ponies around, not a single pair of eyes falls on her at any point. This is what she is used to. This is who she is. With a bored expression, she approaches a familiar stall. It’s tucked away in a shady corner and doesn’t typically attract many ponies, but there’s a larger crowd than usual perusing its wares. While she isn’t a fan of crowds, Wallflower isn’t all that concerned. In fact, she was expecting this. The stall is dedicated to art supplies. Paints, brushes, pencils, high-quality canvases, basically anything an artist could possibly want. There’s no dedicated store for these things in Ponyville, so this stall is really the only place to go. That’s largely because in a small town like this, there isn’t a whole lot of demand for these supplies most of the time. Right now, however, that isn’t the case, as the Ponyville Art Exhibition will be taking place in just a few days. Aspiring artists from Ponyville and a few other neighboring towns will gather for the annual showcase, eager to show their greatest works off to the world. As one such artist, Wallflower is also interested in the event. She’s gone to every single one ever since she was a filly. One piece in particular captured her imagination way back when. It was little more than a detailed depiction of the landscape outside of Ponyville, but something about it absolutely mesmerized her. That was what set her on her current path, selling art anonymously at auctions between a few odd jobs here and there. However, despite having been to every Exhibition since that fateful day, she has never once actually submitted an art piece. Being invisible is who she is, after all. The attention that she might gain from submitting a piece that does well was always enough to scare her away from trying. This year, she intends to change that. In fact, she’s gonna go all the way. She’s not just going to put her work on display, oh no no no. She’s going to enter the Art Off. A silly name, sure, but an important event all the same. It’s exactly as it sounds: an art competition. Potential competitors submit their art to the Art Off for a chance to be judged and voted on by crowds. They are given little more than a brief chance to discuss their work on stage, then it’s up to the Exhibition attendees to decide what the “best” submission really is. It’s a great way to receive plenty of comments and criticism on one’s work, for better or for worse. On top of that, entering the Art Off means forfeiting your chance at having your work on display elsewhere. If you win, you reap plenty of benefits. Media coverage, a spot in the Canterlot Art Museum, recognition among the greater art community, and a generous cash prize. If you lose, you’re left wondering what you did wrong and will likely consider never attempting showing off your passions to anyone ever again. Or maybe that’s just Wallflower. With a deep breath, she slides between a few ponies standing in the long line for art supplies, slowly making her way to the stall. Once she arrives, not a single pony acknowledges her cutting to the front. On top of that, nopony, not even the mare running the stall, says a word or even looks in her direction as she grabs a few paints she was needing, places the appropriate number of bits on the counter, and shuffles away. It’s one of Wallflower’s favorite perks of being who she is. “Hey, Wallflower!” “Ah!” She jumps back in surprise, immediately falling onto the grass below her. “Oh, s-sorry! Here, let me help you up!” Wallflower’s vision is partially obscured by the sun until a shadow blocks it out. The head shape is familiar, and the next thing she knows, there’s an open hand right in front of her face. Without really thinking, she places a hoof in said hand before feeling herself getting tugged back onto her hooves. “Oops, you dropped some stuff.” Still processing what’s going on around her, she stands in stunned silence as Anon picks up the bottles of paint she just purchased before handing them over to her. “There you go. Sorry again, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Wallflower blinks. “Anon?” “That’s what they call me!” “You’re doing the thing,” she mumbles. “I’m doing what?” “Bringing attention to me.” “No I’m not!” Anon looks around to see numerous ponies staring due to the commotion he just caused. They all look more surprised by Wallflower than him, only just now noticing her presence in the first place. “Ah. My bad, I guess?” “Just… don’t talk to me in public, okay?” He tilts his head and furrows his brow as he looks back at her silently for a moment before responding. “That’s a tough thing to ask of me.” “How? Just ignore me like everypony else.” “I-I really don’t want to do that.” “Well, I do want you to do that.” He sighs after another moment, his expression quickly going from concerned to downtrodden. “Fine. I was busy helping Mrs. Posey anyway.” He turns around while forcing a smile. “You’re still welcome in my garden anytime, by the by.” Without another word, Anon walks off, leaving Wallflower awkwardly standing amidst a group of ponies that absolutely know she’s there now. She can practically feel their eyes digging into the back of her head. It doesn't take long for her to make herself scarce. Wallflower smacks her lips together as she finishes off her smoothie. After putting some distance between herself and the ponies that saw Anon talking to her, it was pretty easy to fade out of the public’s perception again. She doesn’t have anything better to do today, so she went ahead and ran a few errands. At the moment, she’s resting beneath a large oak tree with her art supplies and a few groceries in plastic bags on either side of her as she sips at pineapple-banana goodness. “I’ve got it!” A familiar voice catches her attention. A couple dozen feet away, Anon heaves a few unmarked sacks onto his shoulders before carrying them across the dirt road beneath him and loading them into a cart. She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on. The cart itself is nothing special, but it’s loaded with veggies of all kinds. She recognizes the spread as the usual wares of Mr. Daikon. This realization only further increases her confusion. Mr. Daikon is a capable stallion, still very much in his prime. In fact, she can see him just across the way lounging on a wooden box and watching Anon do all of the work. It doesn't look like there’s anything wrong with him, so what gives? She focuses on Anon, who is clearly sweating like a pig under the hot sun. It takes him quite some time to get all of those veggies loaded into the cart. It looks like nothing short of backbreaking labor, but there’s a smile spread across his face all the same. “There you go, Mr. Daikon!” “Thank ya for volunteerin’, Anon.” “I’m just happy to help!” “I can see that. Welp,” he grunts as he stands from the box. “Guess I’d better be on my way. You take care, now.” “Will do, sir!” With a nod and a tip of his hat, Mr. Daikon throws a saddlebag on, gears up, and starts hauling the cart away. Shifting her attention back to Anon again, Wallflower silently watches his reaction. After giving Mr. Daikon some time to trot away, he nods to himself and walks towards the outskirts of the market. He seems to have a purpose in mind, and against her better judgment, Wallflower decides to feed her curiosity. Bags in hoof, she begins to sneakily give chase. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his destination. Unfortunately, she’s not a fan of the destination in question. It’s the home of Miss Oldbag, an older mare that’s somewhat infamous for being extremely rude. To Wallflower’s bewilderment, Anon doesn’t even knock on the door. Instead, he walks around the side of her house and opens an unlocked shed, disappearing for a few seconds before stepping back outside with a metal toolbox in hand. Stopping only to wipe some of the sweat from his brow, he gets to work… fixing her fence? Why in Equestria would he be doing that? Oh, well. She has nothing better to do today than creepily watch someone from the bushes, anyway. After almost an hour of aimlessly watching Ponyville’s resident human fix a fence, something else catches Wallflower’s attention. Two sets of hooves trot along the dirt road before coming to a stop just a few feet away from Anon. Immediately, Wallflower feels an eye twitch. She knows those mares. “Heya, Anon~!” “Hiiiii Anon!” “Hm?” Anon looks up from the fence to see the two mares smiling at him, causing him to smile right back. “Hello, Sweet Pea! Good day, Spice Berry!” The two mares continue to give Anon warm smiles, but Wallflower knows better. From the bushes, she actively has to stop herself from scowling. Those mares are Sweet Pea and Spice Berry, two girls about her age from the other side of town. The former has a grass-green coat with a light-magenta mane, while the latter has an orange coat and fiery-red mane. Both wear very expensive, carefully applied makeup, and she can smell their perfume from the bushes. Those two are the darlings of Ponyville, the apple of every lonely stallion’s eye. But Wallflower can see right through them. From their looks to their reputations to their personalities, everything about them is fake. They play nice and give award-winning smiles to anyone foolish enough to look their way, and the next thing they know, they’re putty in their evil hooves. But, being the nigh-invisible mare she is, there’s nopony around to listen to Wallflower. She is the only one who knows the truth. She can already tell how this conversation is about to play out, but something about the fact that it’s happening to Anon rubs her the wrong way. “Whatcha doin’?” “Miss Oldbag asked me to fix her fence for her. I figured it wouldn’t be too hard, so here I am!” “Uh, Anon? You know she’s more than capable of fixing it herself, right?” “Sure, but I’m always happy to help!” “Is that why you were helping Mr. Daikon earlier, too?” “You saw that?” Anon sheepishly rubs the back of his head as an embarrassed grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, he seemed like he needed a helping hand. I’m heading back into the market after I’m done here, too. I volunteered to help a few stalls close for the evening.” “Well, aren’t you a little angel?” Sweet Pea gets closer to Anon than Wallflower is comfortable with, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “You wouldn’t happen to have a little room in your schedule for a couple of struggling mares, would you?” “O-oh, do you need help with something?” “Welllll~” Spice Berry circles around Anon while Sweet Pea stays close to him. It might seem endearing to most, but it reminds Wallflower of a shark circling its prey. “We really really really wanted to enter the Art Off at this year’s Ponyville Art Exhibition, but–” “But our grandma came down with a really rare disease!” Sweet Pea looks up at him with big, pleading eyes. “We sent her all of the spare bits we had, and now we can’t afford any art supplies!” “It’s truly terrible,” Spice Berry adds as she continues circling him. “And we were hoping to donate the prize money to Ponyville Elementary!” “Uh… need me to lend you a few bits?” “Well, we don’t want to seem uncouth, but…” “No, that’s totally fine!” Anon continues to grin as he reaches into his back pocket, producing a sizable wallet. “Would fifty bits cover it?” “Y-yes, absolutely!” Without skipping a beat, Sweet Pea snatches the bits from his hands. “Thank you so so so much, Anon! We promise to pay you back as soon as we can!” “Hehe, there’s no need to worry about that.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah! It’s for a good cause, right?” “Oh, Mr. Anon, you are a saint!” Sweet Pea swiftly hops up onto her back hooves and places a quick peck on Anon’s cheek, leaving a magenta-colored lipstick stain that’s difficult to miss. “Thank you so much!” “But we need to get going! The art stall is closing soon!” “Goodbye, ladies.” “Goodbye, Anon!” they enthusiastically cheer in unison as they trot away. Anon chuckles to himself as he turns back to the fence, the smile on his face never fading. Wallflower sits in quiet frustration for several moments, eventually sighing when she catches herself literally shaking with anger. After taking a few seconds to compose herself, she stands up and steps out of the bushes. Anon has his back to her, but he turns around before she raises her voice. “Hello, W–” Anon cuts himself off mid-sentence before turning around. “It’s alright,” she mumbles. “I wanted to talk to you.” “A far cry from the last time we talked,” he lightheartedly laughs. “What’s going on?” “Er…” Suddenly, she realizes that she doesn't really know how to broach this topic. “Do, uh… do you know those two mares?” “Hm? Oh, you mean Sweet Pea and Spice Berry?” “Yeah, them.” “Sort of,” he ruminates as he continues working on the fence. “They live a few doors down from me. We haven’t spoken too much, but they seem nice.” “Yeah, that’s what everypony thinks.” “Hm?” Wallflower takes a deep breath before continuing. “You’re being taken advantage of.” “What?” “Ponies are taking advantage of your kindness. Trust me, they have absolutely no intention of giving you those bits back.” “So?” “‘So?!’” Wallflower recoils, not expecting that response from him. “What do you mean, ‘so?!’” “I mean, so what? If their grandma needed the money, she needed the money. We’ve all been down on our luck before.” “Anon, their grandma isn’t sick!” “And how do you know that?” “I…” She trails off for a moment before shaking her head and continuing. “I know that they’re liars. It’s basically all they’re good at. They manipulate ponies into giving them what they want.” “And how do you know they’re lying now?” “I-I just do, okay?!” Wallflower stomps a hoof in agitation, catching Anon off guard. She looks like she’s about to say something else before turning her head. “Whatever. Get scammed. See if I care.” “Wallflower.” Anon finally turns away from the fence, fully facing her with a flat expression. “Even if they are lying, I don’t feel bad about helping them.” “Excuse me?” “If giving them fifty bits makes them happy, I’ll give them fifty bits. Just as I’ll fix this fence for Miss Oldbag, or load veggies onto a cart for Mr. Daikon. I just like helping others.” “All of those ponies are using you. Every single one of them.” “Maybe so. And yet…” Anon turns back towards the fence, facing away from Wallflower. She can no longer read his expression, but she catches a minor change in his tone. It’s slight, almost completely imperceptible, but it’s there. “I’ll do what they ask. And I’ll do it all with a smile.” “...Why?” Her voice is almost a whisper, but she’s not quite sure why that is. “That’s my business.” His voice is firm, but just as quiet as her own. After hesitating for a moment, he starts digging through the toolbox once more. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’ve only got so much daylight left to get this done.” “Fine.” Wallflower turns around once more, making sure to grab her bags along the way. Before she can properly leave, however, Anon interrupts one more time. “You’re still welcome in my garden, by the way.” She freezes, but does not respond. “You don’t need to worry about attracting too much attention there, either.” “...I’ll think about it.” Without another word, Wallflower walks away.
Flowers and VegetablesView OnlinePotted PlantFlowers and VegetablesAuthor's Note Now featuring new cover art! Flowers and Vegetables Wallflower sighs as she slowly trudges down the familiar dirt road. She doesn’t know why she keeps feeling compelled to come back. Is it her frustration with Anon’s friendliness? The allure of such an aesthetically pleasing garden? It couldn’t be that she actually likes Anon. That’d be ridiculous! She doesn’t like anyone. And yet, as the familiar white fence comes into view, she can’t ignore her increasing heart rate. With a sigh, she prepares to step into view of the garden. However, just before she finally does so, the sound of voices causes her instincts to kick in. She ducks her head and hides behind the fence, knowing darn well that she’s practically invisible now. “Thanks, Anon!” “No problem, I hope you enjoy the eggplants!” “Oh, these look just lovely!” “Haha, they just ripened up yesterday! I hope you get some use out of ‘em!” Wallflower watches as pony after pony steps out of the garden, none bothering to close the gate behind them. She stands completely still, listening for any other ponies that might still be present. And just as she is about to relax, they walk up to the garden. “Hiiiiii Anooon~!” “Ah, hello, ladies!” Wallflower feels her brow furrow as she watches Sweet Pea and Spice Berry saunter into the garden like they own the place. Those fake smiles of theirs are plastered across their faces, and she feels her blood begin to boil. “We heard you were giving away free vegetables.” “And we came to see what all the hubbub was about!” Wallflower watches as they each take a position on either side of Anon, giving him no chance of escaping the situation. However, he appears completely unbothered and oblivious to what’s actually going on. Just like they want. “Well, it’s like I always say: This garden is open to the public. If you see something you need, feel free to take it.” “Wow, really?” “That’s, like, so generous of you!” “We certainly wouldn’t want to let your kindness go to waste!” “Hey, Spice, is there anything you need?” “Personally, I’ve been having a real craving for some fresh roses. And wouldn’t you know it, there are some about to bloom right there!” Without giving Anon so much as a second glance, both mares begin to trot towards the rose bush. As they said, the buds have nearly bloomed, but they’re not quite there yet. To a pony, they’d be delicious all the same. “W-wait, you two!” Anon is ignored as the pair reaches the bush, sharing an amused glance before reaching for some of the biggest buds they can find. “P-please, I–” “These roses aren’t yours to take.” “AHH!” Sweet Pea and Spice Berry fall onto their butts as a head pokes up from behind the rose bush, catching them completely off guard. Before them stands Wallflower, who makes a concentrated effort to step around the bush without catching herself on any of the thorns. By the time she’s safely on the grass, the mares have gotten back up, their shock quickly turning to annoyance. “Oh, lovely. It’s Ponyville’s resident weed.” “Why don’t you go back to hiding in the shadows? At least then we wouldn’t be subjected to that horrific, tangled mess of a mane of yours.” “My friend tends this garden. I know you ladies aren’t used to following the rules, but in case you didn’t notice, there’s a sign right over there you could have read.” Wallflower steps towards the pair, a cold, dark expression on her face. The mares stand their ground at first, but gradually find themselves backing up as she advances. “Don’t touch his roses. It’s not that difficult of a rule to follow.” “A-Anon, she’s being mean to us!” “Yeah, make her stop!” “I… I…” “Get out of here before I turn you into jam.” “...Ugh, whatever. Come on, Spice.” Without another word, the mares leave in a huff. Throwing the fence gate open, they don’t look back as they trot down the dirt road away from the garden. With a sigh, Anon walks up to the fence and gently closes the gate behind them. “Um… thank you.” “Seriously dude, you’ve gotta learn how to stick up for yourself.” “You say that, but I’m just as surprised that you did. And for me, no less.” “Hm?” “I thought your whole thing was going unnoticed. You really put yourself into the line of fire for me there.” “Y-yeah, well.” Wallflower’s cheeks go pink as she paws at the ground. “It’s not like you were about to do it. B-besides, I just took a chance to put those two in their place.” After a brief moment of silence, a warm smile spreads across Anon’s face. “Well, thank you regardless.” “Don’t mention it.” In a noticeably cheerier mood, Anon heads back towards the center of the garden with a spring in his step. “Anyway, what brings you here? Want another nap under the lemon tree? Oh, or maybe you heard about the zucchini? It just finished growing and it’s super tasty, you’ve gotta take some home with you!” “W-well…” In truth, she’s not really sure what brought her back, but she’s not about to tell him that. “I-I wasn’t going to visit your stupid garden in the first place. I just happened to be passing by when I saw those two harassing you.” “‘Harass’ is a strong word. Still, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” “Not really.” Wallflower makes her way beneath the lemon tree and takes a seat on the ground, relishing the comfort that the shade brings on such a sunny day. Anon happily sits a few feet away, clearly feeling the same. “I don’t have much of a schedule. I work when I get inspiration.” “Oh yeah, you’re an artist, right?” “Yup.” “You gonna enter that Art Off thing?” “That’s the plan.” “Heh. I looked into that last night out of curiosity. If you want to be a successful artist, that’s not a bad way of going about it.” “...” “Still, it must be uncomfortable for you.” “How so?” she asks with a tilt of her head. “Well, the competition requires a lot of eyes to be on you, and that would only be worse if you won. I thought you didn’t like being recognized.” “I don’t. And the Art Off doesn’t change that.” She looks him dead in the eyes expecting to see boredom, disapproval, or anything in between. Instead, there’s a shine behind those eyes, a sparkle of interest that she’s not used to seeing in anyone except children. Even worse, those eyes of his are focused entirely on her own. “...I-I want my WORK to be recognized. Not me.” “Why is that?” Wallflower pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Just because I don’t like being seen doesn’t mean I don’t have a life. I spend a lot of time thinking. There are… a lot of things in this world that Equestria likes to glaze over. When the Exhibition comes around, you’ll see what I mean. There will be dozens upon dozens of landscapes and portraits. Expect a lot of rolling hills and depictions of the princesses.” Wallflower clicks her tongue in disdain. “It’s not like there’s anything wrong with that stuff, but sometimes it feels like they’re afraid of anything deeper.” “And I take it that’s the kind of art you make? The ‘deeper’ stuff?” “Heh. Even if I showed you my work, you probably wouldn’t get it.” “Try me.” “You actually want to see my work?” “Sure! It sounds like something you’re passionate about, and a labor of love like that deserves to be shared, I think.” Wallflower hesitates as she feels a blush return to her cheeks. She shakes her head and looks away in embarrassment before responding. “Th-thanks. I’ll consider it.” “...You know, it isn’t to the same scale, but I think I understand where you’re coming from. To a point, at least.” “What do you mean?” “I mean, look around you.” Anon gestures at the garden. It’s as beautiful as ever, but there are noticeably fewer vegetables around and upturned dirt here and there. “My garden is serving its purpose. Ponies are getting their veggies out of it. They’re happy, and the vegetables are doing what they’re supposed to do. But…” Anon sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s foolish to maintain a garden on aesthetics alone, but sometimes I wish I could just do what I want with it. Make it beautiful, you know?” “Then why don’t you?” “Hm?” “Who is telling you that you have to grow vegetables?” Anon hesitates before answering. “I guess I just want to make ponies happy more than I want a pretty garden, haha.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his head, but his squeaky voice makes it blatantly obvious that he’s not telling the truth. Wallflower tilts her head, but says nothing. This doesn’t seem like a line of questioning that she’s ready to pursue. “Is that why you’re so protective of your roses?” “Bingo.” Anon’s smile returns as the pair looks at the not-yet-fully-bloomed bush. “It’s the one part of the garden I don’t want anyone to touch. It’s my favorite plant, and it’s going to be so, so pretty when it finally blooms.” “Hmhm. I’m looking forward to it.” “Oh?” “...Hm?” “Was that a chuckle I just heard? Is that a smile on Wallflower Blush’s face I’m seeing right now?!” He leans forward with an amused smile on his face, causing Wallflower to blush yet again and stand up while turning away from him. “Y-you’re so annoying!” “Sorry, sorry!” “...Ugh.” Wallflower shakes her head yet again, but she can’t hide the growing smile on her face as she exits the garden. Unlike the ponies before her, she takes care to close the gate. “I’ll see you around, Anon.” “I’m looking forward to it!” “Me too,” she mumbles.
A Good CauseView OnlinePotted PlantA Good CauseIt’s been a few weeks since Wallflower stuck up for Anon. However, as the two of them wipe the sweat from their brows after finishing up their work plucking weeds from the carrot patch, neither realizes how quickly that time has passed. “So, how’s your painting going?” “It’s mostly finished, thankfully.” Wallflower gives Anon a smile as he tosses her a bottle of water. “And just in time, too. The Exhibition is this week.” “It’s here already? Heh, I guess that explains all the tourists.” Anon stretches as he takes a sip of his own water. It’s another scorcher, but the garden is as comfortable as ever. “How do you feel about your chances?” “Well… like I said the other day, I don’t expect my work to connect with most audiences. But, I am really proud of what I’ve made.” “And that’s the important part, right?” Wallflower hesitates for a moment, tapping the water bottle to her chin as she thinks. “I know that the ‘correct’ thing would be to agree with you, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care if nopony saw my work.” “Hey, I get that.” Anon throws his hands up with a grin on his face before motioning to the rose bush. The flowers still have yet to bloom, but at this point, it could happen at any time. “I’ve been thinking about doing the exact same thing with my roses here.” “W-wait, what?” “You know, pluck ‘em, put ‘em in vases, hand ‘em out to everypony.” “I-I thought you loved that bush!” “I… I do.” For a brief moment, Anon’s expression darkens. However, his face quickly lights back up again. “But Spice Berry and Sweet Pea made me realize something.” Wallflower shudders with frustration at the mention of their names. “And that is?” “Ponies really love roses, especially at this time of year. I think it’d make everyone’s day if I handed some out once they’ve finished blooming.” “But you’ll be left with a completely barren bush if you do that! Weren’t you the one that said how proud you were of it? That’s the whole reason you don’t want anypony touching it!” “Y-yeah, that’s true. But this is for a good cause, right?” “What cause?! Making ponies that wouldn’t even give you the time of day happy by handing out free stuff? Roses don’t come cheap, you know.” “Making ponies happy is a good enough goal for–” “Is it? Is it really?” Wallflower steps towards Anon, immediately entering his personal space. Her eyes are fierce and focused, but they aren’t entirely angry. There is some frustration there, sure, but she looks more worried than anything else. “I think there are two things we need to get straight here.” “A-and those are?” “First, ponies aren’t going to like you because you give them free stuff or offer to help them over and over again. Sure, some might appreciate it, but you aren’t really connecting with them.” She looks towards the rose bush yet again as what little frustration was still showing on her face melts away, her voice growing softer all the while. “And second… you deserve happiness too, you know.” “...Eheheh.” After an awkward moment, Anon sheepishly rubs the back of his head, glancing around anxiously at anything other than Wallflower. “I’ve gotta say, it’s weird hearing advice about connecting with others from you of all ponies.” “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?!” “S-sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean it as an insult!” Anon’s eyes go wide as he tries to shake off his accidental slight. “You just didn’t seem like the type of mare to care about that stuff. Wh-what with you trying to go unnoticed and everything.” “...” Wallflower sighs. “Maybe you’re right. I just don’t want to see you making yourself miserable for ponies that don’t care about you.” “How about this, then?” With a grin on his face, Anon heads towards the back door of his house. Reaching down next to the wall, he picks up a wicker basket that was obscured by some shrubs. His smile only widens as he returns to Wallflower’s side and places the basket down in front of her. “What’s this?” “Fresh-grown tomatoes, right from this garden. There’s about a dozen of them here.” “And why are you showing them to me?” “I want you to have them.” “M-me? Why?” “Because. I like sharing the bounties of this garden with others.” “I-I thought you said you wished ponies didn’t take your vegetables.” “Having a nice garden does bring me joy, yes. But when I see the look on ponies’ faces when I hand them some fresh produce? The light in their eyes as they scamper off with the fruits of my labor? I get happy then, too. But unlike keeping my garden as-is, it’s not just me leaving that scenario happy.” “Alright, alright. I get where you’re coming from.” Wallflower chuckles as she picks up the basket, wincing at how unexpectedly heavy it is. Anon certainly knows how to grow some healthy plants, she’ll give him that. “Still, watch yourself, okay? I worry about you.” “That’s really sweet of you, Wallflower.” The two remain silent for a moment as they look into each other’s eyes, their growing smiles unable to be contained. Then, simultaneously, they find themselves blushing and quickly looking away. “W-well, I think I should go try to finish up my painting.” “Y-yeah, good idea. I need to finish watering the melons, too.” “Same time tomorrow?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” With a quick, awkward gait, Wallflower scampers out of the garden, remembering to carefully close the gate behind her as she does so. Once she makes it down the dirt road and out of sight of the garden, she places a hoof on her chest. “Why does my heart beat so fast when I’m over there?” She finds herself clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, noticing for the first time just how dry it is. “Ugh, and I’m not used to talking that much. That man is spoiling me. Heh, now I feel kinda bad about not telling him the truth about my stupid painting. There’s no way I’m gonna get that thing done by the Exhibition.” With a shake of her head, she continues on her journey back home. As is her habit, she sticks to the darker, shadier, less-traveled roads on her way through town. Eventually, she glances down at the basket in her hooves. She can’t see it herself, but in the dark, shady alley between two large Ponyville homes, her eyes sparkle with inspiration. “...Actually, I think I have an idea.”
The Art OffView OnlinePotted PlantThe Art OffWallflower places a hoof on her chest as she takes a deep breath. Said breath is shaky and anxious. She can feel herself beginning to tremble, and if she weren’t actively focused on keeping her breathing as steady as possible, she would likely be in a worse state. It’s early in the morning. The sun has barely risen, and dew is still coating the grass on either side of the dirt road. Almost nopony is awake yet, and aside from a few chirping birds, the town is quiet. That quiet is interrupted by the creaking sound of the gate leading to Anon’s garden opening as Wallflower lets herself inside. The first thing that catches her attention is the rose bush. Despite her nerves, a smile spreads across her face as she passes it and takes a seat beneath her favorite lemon tree. Anon probably isn’t awake yet, but she wants to talk to him as soon as possible. At least, she thinks she does. Anxiety is nothing new to Wallflower. She’s never been confident in social situations, and she can only function as well as she does thanks to her uncanny ability to be ignored. As a result, she’s never really sought comfort in times like this. It would only serve to compound her problems. And yet, she still finds herself being drawn here, to this lemon tree. To this garden. To Anon. She closes her eyes and leans back against the trunk of the tree. For most, this would be an ideal time for a nap. She would be inclined to agree, if it weren’t for the fact that she couldn’t possibly hope to fall asleep in her current state. Instead, she simply sits with her eyes closed, listening to the gentle sounds of a Ponyville morning and soaking in the atmosphere of the well-kept garden. She’s not sure how much time passes as she sits there. Eventually, the sun begins to rise higher in the sky. The sounds of voices and movement become more common as the town wakes up. A gentle breeze begins to pick up, somewhat offsetting the increasing heat. Then, finally, she hears the back door of Anon’s house opening followed by a few heavy footsteps. She opens her eyes just in time to see him yawn, covering his mouth with one hand while scratching his back with the other. Once the yawn is finished, he opens his own eyes properly. Immediately, his gaze falls dead ahead of him, landing directly on his rose bush. It takes a fraction of a second for the morning drowsiness to disappear from his face. His eyes go wide as he gasps, his face immediately brightening in excitement. Without any hesitation, he crosses the garden with surprising haste despite avoiding all of the other plants in the way. Once he reaches the rose bush, his joyous laughter spreads throughout the garden. Even Wallflower feels her anxiety begin to fade somewhat at the sight of Anon’s sheer jubilation. The roses have bloomed. The flowers are massive, much bigger than Anon was expecting. Their scarlet-colored petals practically light up the whole garden. He wasn’t kidding when he mentioned how the bush was the garden’s centerpiece. Now that they’re finally able to be shown in all their glory, they really do tie the garden’s aesthetics together. Even Wallflower, who is no stranger to gardening herself, is impressed. How he managed to grow such a beautiful rose bush is beyond her, but she isn’t complaining. In fact, she doesn’t even realize how wide her own smile has gotten, both at the sight of the bush and at the sight of Anon’s excitement. “You did good, Anon.” “Woah!” Anon’s head quickly swivels as he jumps at her voice. “Hah! I was so excited, you actually managed to fly under my radar for a change!” “Gee, maybe you should get excited more often,” she teases as she stands up and approaches the bush alongside him. “They really are beautiful.” Anon doesn’t respond immediately. He glances down at her, his smile still spread across his face, before looking back at the roses. She watches as he wipes at his eye before a tear can fall from it. “Yeah. They are.” “You must be proud.” “Eheh.” He lets out an incredulous chuckle, a mixture of emotions hitting him all at once. “It’s definitely a new feeling.” “Oh? You don’t feel like this when you do stuff for other ponies?” Wallflower has a sly grin on her face, though Anon doesn’t see it. “I do.” He nods confidently, though he appears lost in thought as he does so. “I can’t say it’s ever been this strong of a feeling, though.” “Sounds to me like doing something for yourself now and again is good for you.” “...Hmhm. Maybe.” Anon takes a deep breath as he stretches out his back. When he finishes, a familiar warm smile is spread across his face. He looks back to Wallflower, who tilts her head. “But that’s a conversation for another time. You’re here for a reason, aren’t you?” “D-do I need a reason?” “No, but I didn’t forget about the Exhibition. Today’s your big day, right?” “O-oh.” Wallflower blinks. “I, uh, didn’t expect you to actually remember.” “Come on, give me some credit! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Wallflower feels her cheeks reddening as she looks away. “W-well… I’m not used to being supported like this.” “But you still came here all the same.” “...” “Haha. That’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself.” Anon clears his throat and begins to stretch out his legs, clearly still a bit fatigued from having just woken up. “Shall we go, then? They open soon, right?” “S-so you want to come with me?” “Course I do!” Wallflower hesitates for a moment before the smile returns to her face. For some reason, she no longer feels as afraid. She’s no longer shaking, and her breathing is no longer strained. “Then let’s go. If past years are anything to go by, we can expect a long line.” “Lead the way!” “Hm.” “Well…” “It’s definitely pretty.” “Yes, it most definitely is.” The curious pair gazes at an impressionist painting done of the Ponyville market. While the skill behind the painting is plain to see, what with its brilliant use of color and shading, the battle taking place in the center of the piece between Princess Twilight Sparkle and Princess Celestia somewhat spoils the beauty of the landscape. “Well, I’m sure the artist is quite proud of it.” “R-right. Good for them!” Wallflower awkwardly clears her throat before looking around the hall they find themselves in. The Exhibition is exactly as big as she remembered it. There are countless ponies in every direction. From the youngest colts to the oldest mares, everyone and their mother is quietly appreciating the fine arts. It’s a lovely sight to behold, even if the majority of the attendees are just looking for an easy way to keep themselves entertained during an otherwise uneventful afternoon. As per usual, none of them pay Wallflower any mind. “I-I don’t mean to rush you, but can we get going? I want to make sure we get to the Art Off in time.” “Sure, sure. I kinda wanted to check out the sculptures, but the Exhibition is open for a few more days anyway, right? I’ll lead the way.” “Thank you.” With a smile and a nod, Anon begins pushing his way through the crowded hall. Wallflower sticks to his shadow, carefully weaving through the gaps in the sea of ponies that his large stature creates for her. As she follows him, she becomes acutely aware of just how sweaty she’s getting. Whether that be due to her nerves or the intense heat from the massive gathering of ponies during a summer afternoon, she’s not sure. Eventually, the pair emerges into a large auditorium. While there are a couple hundred seats prepared, only a dozen of them are filled. It’s extremely clear that they’re much earlier than they need to be, but doing so ensures that the fear of being late is not among Wallflower’s growing anxieties. “You’re gonna do great,” Anon whispers as he gives his friend a pat on the back. “Just remember to breathe, alright?” “I-I’ll be fine,” she mumbles unconvincingly. “Besides, it’s not like it’s a whole speech or anything. The artists just give a sentence or two to introduce their work and say what it’s called.” “Either way, I’m sure you’re gonna kill it.” Anon chuckles and gives her a warm smile. “Let’s take our seats, shall we? I’m gonna enjoy being in the front row!” It doesn’t take long for Anon to conclude that front-row seats are overrated, especially when you have to wait several hours for the show to start in order to ensure your spot in them. The two make light conversation, both about art and about whatever else they can think of to keep Wallflower’s mind preoccupied. It isn’t until the lights dim that they even realize the competition is about to begin. An older stallion dressed in a fancy cardigan steps on stage as a spotlight focuses on him. He gives the crowd a big, award-winning smile, causing said crowd to fall silent almost immediately. As he opens his mouth to speak, two foals shuffle about in the darkness behind him to bring an easel covered by a large cloth into the light. “Ladies and gentlecolts, welcome to this year’s Ponyville Art Off!” The presenter waits for the crowd to cheer, which they wholeheartedly do. “As always, today is a day to appreciate the fine arts. We have many, MANY submissions this year. In fact, it’s one of the largest competitions we’ve had to date!” Another pause, another round of cheers. “Yes, yes, I’m sure we’re all in for a real treat! We’ve got so many styles, so many passions, so many expressions of creativity that I guarantee you will leave here a changed pony!” There is a round of thunderous applause at his words. The ground rumbles as hundreds of ponies stomp their hooves. Anon glances at Wallflower, who is doing a better job than he was expecting at keeping herself together. “I’m sure most of you know how this goes, but if you don’t, the rules are simple. We will unveil the entries one at a time. The brilliant artists behind these entries, who sit in the crowd amongst you all, are to then come up on stage, state their name and the name of their art, and then provide one sentence to say whatever they want! Once everything has been shown off, the voting will begin!” One more time, there is a huge round of applause. Wallflower takes a deep breath as the first work is unveiled: A portrait of what seems to be Prince Shining Armor made entirely out of abstract shapes and colors. An energetic mare by the name of Ms. Peachbottom excitedly introduces herself and the painting before saying a dozen too many sentences about how she was inspired by a trip to the Crystal Empire some time ago. Whatever tensity was in the air seems to disappear as the crowd laughs at the mare getting shooed off the stage. At least, it does for everyone but Wallflower. The Art Off goes by surprisingly quickly. More time is spent admiring the work than letting the artists speak, but Anon supposes that’s probably the point. The paintings themselves range from abstract to insultingly obvious, from the image of beauty itself to literal garbage thrown onto a canvas. He is far from an art snob, but even he can see that there is a large disparity in the skill of some of the artists in this competition. Looking around at other ponies’ reactions, it seems he isn’t the only one with this opinion, either. Suddenly, a new painting is unveiled. The crowd collectively gasps as the work is revealed to them. The energy and optimism in the room suddenly vanishes, replaced by complete silence. Confused, Anon looks to the stage for answers. The painting is a curious one. A dark swirl of black and gray encapsulates most of the image, with little hints of green and brown mixed in. It’s like an endless vortex consuming all in its path, its victims little more than strings of colors that once made up something beautiful, but can no longer be identified as themselves. Most shockingly, however, is not the painting. Instead, it is what has been smeared all over it, as three rotten tomatoes appear to have been thrown at the piece, their red-and-brown juices and skin ruining the work and making about half of it unable to be seen. “W-well, this is a shock. It appears that one of our works has been vandalized, and it never even got a chance to be shown off!” For the first time, the speaker’s demeanor goes from cheerful and kind to cold and aggressive. “What an affront to art! If we find out who did this, I swear on Celestia’s name that I shall–” “It was me.” Anon blinks. Amongst the confusion of the painting’s unveiling, Wallflower snuck all the way on stage without anyone noticing. She now stands next to the presenter, placing herself between him and the painting. “H-hello? Who said that?” “I did. I’m right here. Right next to you.” “Right next to me? How is that– WOAH!” The speaker nearly falls over as he suddenly recognizes Wallflower’s presence. The audience remains completely silent, their eyes darting between the art, Wallflower, and the presenter. “M-Miss Wallflower? But isn’t this YOUR entry?!” “Yes. No one vandalized it. This is the piece as it’s meant to be.” “O-oh.” The speaker awkwardly clears his throat as he sheepishly rubs the back of his head. The crowd does not respond. “W-well, that’s certainly a… unique take on things. Ahem. Very well! You may now present your work.” Wallflower slowly turns to the crowd. She feels her legs beginning to tense up as her knees lock in place. Her brown eyes shimmer in the bright spotlight, and she’s fairly certain everyone can see just how sweaty she is. As her gaze anxiously darts from one place to the next, she finds herself at a loss for words. “It’s just three sentences,” she thinks to herself. “Speak up, darn it!” Her eyes continue to dart around the crowd. The presenter clears his throat, and the crowd’s confusion only grows, their silence infinitely more deafening than any noise could ever hope to be. Just as she feels herself about to mentally shut down, her eyes fall onto one seat in particular, where the only human in the crowd resides. Anon gives her a big, warm, encouraging smile. “...M-my name is Wallflower Blush. This piece is called ‘Potted Plant.’ It’s a representation of what it feels like to… to want someone to see you. Thank you.” With an awkward bow of her head, Wallflower shuffles away, eager to get off of the stage. It only takes a few moments for the staff to present the next work, being just as eager as her to move on. “You did great,” Anon whispers as she retakes her seat next to him. “Please don’t lie,” she mutters back. “That was a nightmare.” “I don’t know about that. You said exactly what you needed to, nothing more and nothing less. Besides, your art really is–” “HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PONYVILLE~!” Anon and Wallflower feel their eyes go wide at the sound of a familiar voice. Turning back to the presenter, they are greeted by two beautiful mares rollerblading onto stage. Sweet Pea and Spice Berry give the crowd their award-winning smiles as they put on a performance all their own, their intricate outfits and copious amounts of makeup easily standing out from the crowd of humble artists that came before them. The art itself hasn’t even been unveiled yet, so how they know that it’s their turn to go is a mystery to all. However, as the cover is lifted and an extremely generic painting of a treeline (that really could have used more time in the oven, so to speak) is unveiled, their charisma wins over the crowd. Cheers ring out, hooves stomp the ground, countless ponies hoot and holler as they excitedly introduce themselves. “No,” Wallflower mumbles. “No!” “What’s wrong?” “They’re doing it again! They’re doing the same thing they always do, no matter where they go!” “Wallflower, what are you talking abou–” “They did it to you, and they’re doing it to them! And it’s working!” Wallflower’s panicked expression only grows as the two mares skate off-stage. Their art is taken out of the spotlight, but nothing else takes its place. Instead, the presenter walks towards the center of the stage once more, his charming smile shining over the crowd. “Well, everypony, it’s time for voting to begin!” “No…” The voting doesn’t take long at all. Pamphlets with little boxes letting everyone vote on their favorite piece are passed out to the crowd. Neither of them even need to look up to know who the crowd is looking for. All they can do is let out an incredulous laugh at the fact that the Exhibition didn’t even spell Wallflower’s name right. “Wow, voting took absolutely no time at all this year! I think it’s clear who our winners are, but let’s present them all the same! Everypony put your hooves together for…” “Woah!” Anon nearly falls out of his chair as he is pushed aside by Wallflower. Tears fall from her eyes as she rushes past him, paying no attention to any of the ponies in her way as she sprints out of the Exhibition, not willing to hear what she knows is about to be said. And yet, in spite of her efforts, the microphone is loud enough to reach her even as she escapes the venue. “Sweet Pea and Spice Berryyyyyyyyy~!” The crowd erupts one final time into a roar of excited cheers while the pair walks on stage. Anon, knowing that he is needed elsewhere, tries to leave, but his large form can’t escape from the sea of high-energy ponies. As the two boisterous mares thank the crowd for their support, he realizes the gravity of the situation. Wallflower’s worst fears have come true.
SeenView OnlinePotted PlantSeen“Wallflower! WALLFLOWER!” Anon’s voice echoes through the empty Ponyville streets. Basically everyone in town is attending the Exhibition, making the atmosphere eerily quiet. If only she hadn’t gotten such a huge head start on him! “Wallflower, please! Can’t we talk?” He stands by himself in the middle of the abandoned market. He looks around, confident that wherever Wallflower went, she can definitely hear him. After several more moments of silence, he finally relents. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he lets out a deep sigh. “Okay. I know you prefer to be alone, so… just take care of yourself, you hear? If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be in the garden, alright?” After receiving no response, Anon gives himself a somber nod and begins to trudge back home. A gentle breeze washes over him, but he barely registers it. It wasn’t even his competition, and yet, Wallflower’s reaction to Sweet Pea and Spice Berry won’t leave his mind. Like a bright light burned into his retinas, every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is that look she had. That awful, terrified, destroyed expression. He just wants to tell her that– “Don’t go.” He freezes. His eyes widen as he glances at his surroundings, but he doesn’t see anything. “Wallflower?” “Don’t… don’t move, please.” “Why?” “I’m right behind you. P-please don’t turn around.” He takes a second to process her words, but ultimately decides to acquiesce. “O-okay.” He clears his throat before continuing. “Wallflower, I’m so sorry.” “I… I should have seen it coming. It’s fine. Don’t worry yourself with my troubles.” “I’m not going to do that. You’re my friend, Wallflower. Your problems are my problems.” “There you are again with that bleeding heart of yours,” she chokes as she fails to stifle a sniffle. “Maybe if I’d just given you better tomatoes, you could have–” “Shut up!” He feels a punch on the back of his leg, but although there’s an obvious frustration in her voice, said punch has almost no force behind it. “Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for this! I’m just… I’m just…” Anon hears Wallflower slump to the ground behind him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he finally turns around. Sure enough, she’s fallen to the dirt below, tears falling freely from her eyes. He doesn’t say a thing as he drops to his knees, lifts her up from underneath her front legs, and pulls her into a tight, wordless hug. “I’m not good enough!” There it is. The answer to everything. He had a feeling this would come to light eventually, but… “I’m not talented enough to be an artist, I’m not likable enough to be social, I-I can’t even say three freaking sentences without you there to help me!” “Wallflower, you–” “I’m worthless!” “You’re not!” Wallflower sniffles, but her tear-filled eyes open for the first time in a while. She can’t see Anon’s expression with her head resting on his shoulder like this, but she can feel him tightening his grip on her. This is the first time she’s ever heard him raise his voice. “You’re not worthless. Sure, you’re quiet. And yeah, maybe you’re a bit awkward. But that doesn’t make you any less of a pony! Your art was incredible!” “...T-tell that to the crowd.” “What, the crowd that was made up of everypony in town? Look around you! Everyone and their mother was there! They weren’t looking for something deep, they were looking to be entertained by the cool new thing in town! Do you really think Pipsqueak or Applejack understood what you were going for?” “No, but that’s because I didn’t do a good enough job conveying my meaning.” “‘Potted Plant.’ A representation of what it’s like to be Wallflower Blush. To feel like you’ve been reduced to almost nothing, like you’re little more than an abstraction amidst a sea of darkness and confusion. But even then, even as you cry out for help, for someone to notice you, all you get is more backlash, more confusion, more ponies that don’t, that can’t, understand you.” “H-huh?” “I’ll be honest, I figured you’d just eat the tomatoes I gave you like a normal pony, but frankly, your use of them was genius. And let me guess. As time passes, the tomatoes will age, and the piece will only become more rotten? The image will blur more and more until even your plea for someone to notice you in the form of a piece of art is unrecognizable.” Wallflower freezes. For several seconds, the air is silent. “How?” “Hm?” “How did you get all of that from my painting?” “I know you, Wallflower. It didn’t take more than a glance for me to feel the emotions pouring out of that piece.” “But… but nopony else–” “Nopony else understands you. I hate to say it, but in that regard, your piece was correct.” “...” “That’s why you shun everyone around you, isn’t it?” “Hmph. They shunned me first.” Another sniffle, though her tears aren’t running quite as freely now. Anon relaxes his grip on her and pulls away just enough so that he can look into those hazel eyes of hers. “I know I’m not much of a consolation prize, but for what it’s worth, I love being around you. I… I know how hard it is to connect with others, but I swear to you, it’s worth it. And I hate to say it, but that art competition isn’t the place to be seeking validation.” “...Heh.” For the first time since leaving the Art Off, she lets out an incredulous laugh as she wipes at her tear-stained cheeks. “You could have said that before I dragged you there hours early.” “I didn’t really get it then. Your art changed that,” he whispers with a wink. “It really meant something. To me, at least.” After a moment, she lets out another chuckle. “Then I guess it was worth something.” “And so are you.” Wallflower blushes at his comment, but doesn’t avert her gaze as he gives her a warm smile. She happily returns it as he helps her back onto her hooves. “Anyway, it’s really darn hot out here. Care for some lemonade?” “Lemonade?” “Sure. I happen to know where we can find a healthy tree full of lemons to use, too.” “Hmhm! Sure. Lead the way, Anon.” The two of them smile and laugh as they make their way down the quiet Ponyville streets. The results of the Art Off might have been disappointing, but Wallflower isn’t going to let that hold her back. With her head held high, she walks with a confidence she hasn’t felt in a long, long time, and with Anon at her side, she feels ready for whatever tomorrow might bring. In fact, she thinks she might already have an idea for a new art piece! … “N-no! What happened?!” Her thoughts are interrupted by Anon’s panicked voice. Standing quietly there before them is Anon’s garden. The gate had been left wide open by somepony wanting some free vegetables, and thanks to this opened gate, countless rabbits are scampering around the property. At the arrival of the large human, they all sprint out of the yard from the gate behind him, most carrying dirt-covered vegetables in their mouths. The garden has been picked clean.
Lemons and RosesView OnlinePotted PlantLemons and RosesAnon and Wallflower stand silently for what feels like an eternity. She slowly turns her head to look at him, but he doesn’t notice. In fact, his gaze doesn’t turn away from the garden. His expression is cold and distant. His mouth is a straight line across his face, and his eyes lack the color and brightness she’s come to know from them. Even amidst the quiet serenity of the garden, she can’t even hear him breathing. Every single crop, every single vegetable has been torn from the ground. There are a few loose eggplants and zucchinis scattered across what was once the garden, sure, but they’ve already been plucked from the soil and ruined by the animals. The only bits of color left in the garden are the lemons hanging from the lemon tree and, miraculously, the roses. “L-look! Your roses!” Wallflower rushes across the garden and stands next to the bush. Sure enough, they’re just as bright and beautiful as they were in the morning. “They’re okay!” For a long moment, Anon doesn’t move a muscle. However, all at once, the light returns to his eyes as if a switch had been flipped. He looks up at her, and though the sorrow is still evident on his face, a tiny smile begins to creep along his lips. “Huh. So they are.” With a slow, exhausted gait, he trudges across the garden and stands next to Wallflower. He gently brings a hand to one of the flowers and lifts it closer to his face, taking in the lovely scent of the little bit of crimson beauty he brought into the world. “So they are.” “...Are you okay?” “Heartbroken,” he responds matter-of-factly. “Those vegetables were my… th-they were going to make a lot of ponies happy.” “Ugh, and it’s those same ponies that ruined them.” “Excuse me?” “It’s not hard to close the gate. You remind everyone that comes here. You don’t ask a lot of anyone, and it’s not a difficult thing to do.” “...” After failing to respond for some time, Anon clears his throat. “I-I don’t want to be mad at anyone.” With a loud popping sound, Anon straightens out his back and lifts his arms above his head. “I’ll just have to start again tomorrow. N-no biggie.” “‘No biggie?’ Anon, how can you not be mad?” “It’s just not worth it.” “What do you mean?” “I… I have a lot riding on my image, Wallflower. I can’t afford to get mad at anypony.” “What are you talking about?! They ruined your garden!” “And I have to greet them with a smile anyway.” Wallflower’s eyes widen as she sees the dark, serious expression on his face. “That’s just how it is for… for someone like me.” “Anon, please. Unlike me, you haven’t made a piece of art for me to peek into your psyche. I don’t know what it is you’re going through, but you know you can tell me, right?” Anon glances away, his gaze falling to the ruined crops below. He stutters for a moment before finally closing his eyes and sighing. “How about we talk over a glass of lemonade?” “I’d like that,” she warmly replies, giving him the most genuine smile she can muster. “You have a really nice house,” Wallflower comments as Anon pours her a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade. He takes a seat across from her at his kitchen table. She looks around the space, making note of how few possessions he owns. There is furniture and a stocked kitchen, sure, but there is almost nothing that denotes the space as “his.” “But I get the impression you don’t spend much time in here.” “That’s what the garden is for,” he chuckles as he takes a sip. It's the perfect mix of sweet and sour, thanks in no small part to the lemons the two of them picked together. “Anyway, I’m sorry to say that my story isn’t very long, and it isn’t very glamorous.” “I’d like to hear it anyway. If you’re willing to share, of course.” “No, no, you deserve to hear it.” Anon stares at the table as he collects his thoughts. After some time, he takes a deep breath. “Did you see the papers when I first arrived in Equestria?” “I don’t really keep up with the news.” “Well, that explains it. Hmhm.” He takes another sip before continuing. “To this day, I still don’t know how I got here. Just woke up in a small crater not far from Miss Fluttershy’s cottage one day. It really freaked out everyone in town, and I can’t say I blame them. They’d never seen a human before, and I’d never seen ponies like you before. We were all panicking a little bit, and my fearful demeanor made everyone think I was dangerous. Long story short, the Royal Guard got a hold of me before too long.” “You were arrested?!” “Yup. Thankfully, the princesses were kind to me. Confused, but kind. They, along with Miss Sparkle, tried to figure out how I got here and how to send me home.” “And?” “They still don’t know how I got here, and they’re even less convinced they can send me back to where I came from.” “That’s horrible!” “I’ve… I’ve tried to make peace with it. I left a lot behind, after all.” He scratches the back of his head and lets out an obviously forced laugh. “It’s not easy to leave behind all of your friends and family. Or your old garden!” “Anon, you don’t have to act like you’re okay if this story hurts to tell.” “Well, it’s not very long.” Composing himself, he continues. “They gave me a house and a job tending to some of the local flora. Just enough to sustain myself, you know? I didn’t want to seem ungrateful and I definitely didn’t see any other options, so I just went with it. That’s how I ended up here, specifically.” “But that doesn’t explain your behavior.” “That was due to the locals. Now don’t get me wrong, not everyone in town was bad to me. But when all of the headlines say things like ‘Monster Appears in Ponyville!’ or ‘Aliens Confirmed Real - Are YOU Safe?!’ it doesn't really inspire confidence. Most ponies avoided me, or they looked at me like I was going to eat them.” “They didn’t even get to know you?” “Nah. Why get to know the tall, freaky, fur-less monster that the princesses decided should be your neighbor? They didn’t even know my name, but they had to call me something, so–” “They started calling you Anon.” “Bingo.” He lets out a long, deep sigh before taking another swig of his lemonade. “I wasn’t super popular back home, but being isolated like that was new to me. I hated it.” “And that’s why you started helping everypony?” “Every single day. I’d wake up, tend to my garden, make my rounds through town watering flowers and the like, and if I saw somepony doing… well, anything? I’d offer to help. It took a long time for them to actually accept my help, but by the time Miss Oldbag was screaming at me to ‘walk faster’ as I was carrying her groceries for her, I think everyone finally realized that I wasn’t going to eat them or anything.” “And that’s how you were when we met.” “Exactly! Making my garden open to the public was a part of that, too. I was happy to finally be accepted. That was all I needed.” “Was.” “Hm?” “It ‘was’ all you needed. Having second thoughts?” “...” “You know, you sound a lot like me.” “I do?” “Dude, it was only a few hours ago that you were telling me how I’m not worthless. The same is true for you, you know. You don’t owe anyone anything.” “Well, that’s very kind of you, but–” “I like you, Douglas.” He freezes. “Huh?” “That’s your name, right? I like you for you. You’re always so nice to me, and you want to talk to me, and you actually tried to understand me. That’s more than I can say for anyone else.” She blushes as she brushes a bit of her mane out of her face. “Besides, I think Douglas suits you.” “I… I haven’t heard that name come from anyone else’s mouth in a long time.” “You were too afraid to correct anyone, so you let their stories about you become true.” “I… yeah.” “I’m not gonna tell you how to live, but I think you’ve earned some time to be you, not the person you think everyone wants you to be.” “I’m not sure I can tell the difference anymore.” “Well, try to answer this: What do you want?” “I–” “I don’t mean like helping ponies, or making anyone happy. What do you want to do that will make YOU happy?” Douglas falls silent once more. His brow furrows as he gets lost in thought. He tries to sip at his lemonade, but his lips only meet ice in the bottom of an empty glass. After putting it back down, he nods to himself. His eyes open fully, and Wallflower notices that the bright enthusiasm she’s come to know from him has returned. “I want to plant flowers. Lots of them.” “There ya go.” With a smile and a nod, she stands from her seat and stretches her back. “Why don’t you meet me at the market first thing tomorrow?” “The market? Why?” “So we can buy you some flower seeds, duh! We’ve got a long day of planting ahead of us tomorrow!” “Wallflower, I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” “You’ve been doing things non-stop for ponies that don’t actually care. Please, let me help you. As your friend.” “...My friend. Right.” Slowly, a smile spreads across Douglas’s face. He can’t stop himself from laughing as a blush makes its way to his cheeks. “Right! Yeah, that sounds like fun!” “I’ll see you there.” She nods and makes her way out the back door, but freezes just before making it outside. Swiftly, she turns around, rushes to Douglas’s seat, and wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. Then, just as quickly, she rushes back to the door. “And thanks for the lemonade!” “Any time!” She waves as she exits the house and makes her way out of the garden, the smile never leaving her face as she closes the gate behind her.
Potted PlantView OnlinePotted PlantPotted Plant“Alright, what are you thinking?” “I’m thinking some petunias and lilies for the first couple of rows, and maybe some mums after that. Do you think lavender would be a nice addition to the space around the fence?” “Ooh, they’d compliment the bushes really well. And look, they have multiple colors of both petunias and lilies! You could make arrangements!” “Ooooooooo, I’m already getting so many ideas! This is gonna look great!” The energy pouring off of Douglas and Wallflower is infectious. Roseluck, who watches the two from behind her stall, can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. “It’s been a while since I’ve had customers this excited to plant flowers.” “He’s trying something new,” Wallflower chuckles. “And I think it’s gonna go great.” “Hah! Experimenting with flowers is always a great idea. And it makes for a nice date,” she adds with a wink. “I wish both of you luck!” “Woah, wait. You heard her?” Douglas asks as he points a thumb at Wallflower. “Uhh, yeah?” He looks at Wallflower with shock, but she just laughs and brushes him off. “I’m not gonna try to hide anymore. If someone wants to talk to me, they’re free to.” “Wallflower…” “Come on, we’re holding up the line.” “R-right!” After another couple minutes of deciding, the pair depart from the stall with a bag full of countless seed varieties. They both beam with happiness as they energetically saunter across the market, checking out a few other stalls along the way. There are so many options, and Douglas has plenty of space for planting! “Ah, Mr. Anon!” “Huh?” The pair turns around to see Mr. Daikon loading up his cart with bags upon bags of vegetables. “Oh, hello, Mr. Daikon.” “Do you think you could–” “His name is Douglas!” Wallflower shouts. “I… what?” “He goes by Douglas now. Please respect that.” Daikon tilts his head at Douglas, and although he stutters for a moment, he eventually finds his voice. “Anon was a nickname I’m trying to leave behind. Please, call me Douglas.” “Well… alrighty, then.” Daikon laughs to himself as he chucks another bag into his cart. “What are you two doin’ out here, anyway?” “My garden got torn up by some rabbits after somepony left the gate open, so we’re buying flowers to plant instead.” “Not doin’ the veggies anymore?” “Nah. I’m sorry, but…” He stops himself for a moment, and Wallflower notices his expression get serious for a brief instant as he nods to himself. “I think I’m done handing out veggies. I want to grow flowers now.” “Well, those are pretty tasty too!” “Not for eating.” His voice is clear and confident as he responds. “I want my garden to look nice. I want to feel satisfied with my work, and I want to be able to admire it without giving it away.” “Oh. Well, that’s a darn shame. Your garden was a real nice place.” Douglas is quiet for another moment before he smiles again. “I think it’ll still be open to the public. Just… for viewing, rather than for taking.” “Hm. You know, I might just need to stop by sometime.” “I’d be happy to have you,” he replies with a nod. “Are you sure about this? I thought you were gonna try to live for yourself a bit,” Wallflower whispers. “I am. And I don’t want anyone taking advantage of me anymore.” He turns to look down at her, the smile never leaving his face. “But I really do enjoy making others happy.” “That’s gonna be a difficult balance.” “Hah! True, but I’ll have you there to help me, right?” Wallflower blushes, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she returns his grin. “I’m not going anywhere, big guy.” The two continue on their walk, and Wallflower notes that Mr. Daikon didn’t finish his request for help. Instead, he appears to be loading the vegetables on his own with no issue. It’s difficult work, but he doesn’t seem too hung up about it. That’s a good start. “Besides, having you around might help you get accustomed to talking more.” “W-wait, what?” “That’s what you wanted, right? To be noticed?” “Well, sure, but–” “The Art Off was just about the worst possible place to do that. If you want to make connections, real connections, it’s gonna take a lot more than a piece of art at a show most ponies don’t understand.” “I…” “Though the art does help. Please don’t give up on that, you’re really talented.” “Peh. Wasn’t planning on it.” She gives him a side-eye before chuckling. “Maybe I’ll throw some picked flowers at my next piece and see if that goes over any better than ‘Potted Plant’ did.” Douglas snorts as the pair begins to laugh, finally making their way out of the market. They make idle chit chat as they return to Douglas’s ruined garden, though they both catch a few whispers and stray thoughts from ponies passing by along the way. “Did you hear about the Art Off?” “Yeah, those two mares ended up donating all of their prize money to Ponyville Elementary.” Wallflower blinks, and Douglas playfully nudges her. “Maybe not everything they say is a lie.” “Ugh. I still don’t like them.” “I’m not gonna say ‘I told you so,’ but it is nice to know that my kindness really was good for something.” Not long after, they hear another passing conversation. “Who was that artist?” “I don’t know, but some ponies petitioned to have her piece displayed on the show floor. Not sure if they actually did it, though.” “Can you blame ‘em? Those tomatoes have to smell terrible.” “True, but the artist had to know that, right? Personally, I think it’s genius!” The couple disappears around a corner, their words quickly becoming inaudible. Wallflower turns to look at Douglas, her mouth hanging slightly open. “What did I tell you?!” he laughs. “I knew there’d be ponies that would appreciate your art!” “I… I…” She groans, but that groan quickly turns into an incredulous chuckle. “I hate it when you’re right!” The two continue to share that laugh as they finally arrive at Douglas’s garden. Sure enough, it’s still completely barren save for Douglas’s rose bush and Wallflower’s favorite lemon tree. They glance at each other and nod, determined smiles spreading across each of their faces. The hours quickly begin to fly by as they get their hands and hooves dirty. Gardening isn’t easy, especially on a hot summer day, but both are able to enjoy the moment. The satisfaction of a job well done, the excitement of flowers yet to come, and the contentment of a moment spent together is enough for them. At some point, they both turn their heads as they hear the gate creaking open. Standing behind it is none other than Miss Oldbag, who glares at them with angry eyes. “Mr. Anon! You said you’d repair my fence days ago!” “I did.” “I wanted you to paint it chartreuse! You clearly painted it closer to a green-yellow!” “Aren’t those the same thing?” “No! Not at all! Ugh, you–” “If you’re not happy with the job he did, you can paint it yourself.” Wallflower stands from her position on the ground and faces Oldbag directly, who scoffs at her approach. “And his name is Douglas.” “A-and who are you?!” “A friend. One that doesn’t take others for granted.” She steps closer to Oldbag, who takes a step back. “He and I are busy tending to his garden. If you want something from him, how about starting with a ‘please?’ Or better yet, a ‘thank you?’” “I… ugh, I don’t have time for this.” With a huff, Oldbag trudges away. Wallflower has to close the gate behind her. “We’ll talk again later, Miss Oldbag! Thanks for coming!” Douglas shouts after her. “That was a little harsh.” “If you’re not gonna put a hoof down, I will. Helping others is fine, but you need to set boundaries.” “And you could probably stand to be a little more polite.” After stuttering for a moment, she sighs. “You’re probably right. Think you can help me out with that?” “With pleasure!” he laughs. The two continue to work, the energy level a bit different but still very positive. Then, for the second time, the gate opens with a creak. “Mr… Douglas?” “Hm? Oh, hello again, Mr. Daikon!” Daikon steps into the garden with two other stallions behind him. Wallflower doesn’t recognize them, but Douglas does. “Mr. Bright! Mr. Dim! Good afternoon.” “Hey there, Douglas. Wow, that name is gonna take some getting used to,” one of them laughs. “Anyway, figured we’d swing by and see what you’re working with,” Daikon says with a tip of his hat. “You weren’t kidding, this place looks like it’s been wrecked.” “Yeah, well, we’re trying to make the most of it.” “Thought so. You’ve always been the tenacious type. That’s why I figured I’d gather some buddies and offer a few helping hooves.” “W-wait, what?” “You’re always helpin’ us out, and I don’t think we’ve ever heard you complain once. It’s only right that we should return the favor in your time of need. Ain’t that right, fellas?” The two other stallions smile and nod before awkwardly producing some trowels from their saddlebags. “I-I couldn’t ask you to–” “We insist, Douglas. Just tell us where to begin!” The three offer him big, toothy grins. He glances at Wallflower, who just smiles and shrugs. “Th-thank you! In that case, could you start with the orange lilies in that corner over there?” With a little cheer, the three stallions step further into the garden and set out on getting to work. With three more gardeners, the job begins to speed up. All of them make light conversation, including Wallflower, as they work. It makes for a pleasant afternoon, and their joy only increases as more ponies that were passing by stop to take notice. Most ignore the group effort, but a select few, most of which Douglas recognizes as ponies he’s helped in the past, offer to pitch in themselves. By the time the sun has begun to set, there are about a dozen ponies wiping sweat from their brows and looking out at the garden. It still isn’t pretty considering nothing has grown yet, but it will be. The soil is in place, the flowers have been planted, and after some weeks of love and care, everything will be good as new. Better, even! One by one, the many visitors see themselves off. Every single one of them is all smiles as they step outside of the garden, each making sure to close the gate behind them as they do so. Eventually, Douglas and Wallflower are left alone once again. “That went better than I ever could have expected.” “You know, I never would have imagined all of those ponies coming to help you. Maybe all those favors were good for something after all.” “Not everypony has been taking advantage of me. I’d like to think today is proof of that.” “Hah. Yeah, yeah, you told me so.” “I wasn’t gonna say it!” The two start to laugh, but are interrupted one more time. While the gate does creak open, they smell the heavy perfume of their new arrivals before they see them. “Sweet Pea! Spice Berry! Good evening, and congratulations!” “Oh, thank you, Mr… Douglas, right?” “You actually got his name right? That’s a shocker,” Wallflower mumbles to herself. “It’s all thanks to you!” Spice Berry shouts as she rushes up to Douglas’s side with Sweet Pea right behind her. “We got the stuff we needed, we put on a show, and we donated all of the money, just like we said we would!” “I saw. Congrats again, I’m glad the school is getting more funds thanks to the likes of you.” “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re as talented as we are!” Sweet Pea says with a cocky smile. “And here.” She brings a hoof to one of Douglas’s hands and places a small bag into it. “The bits we owe you!” “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” “I repay my debts! Anyway, we’ve got places to be. Later!” She turns to exit the garden, but freezes as she spots the rose bush. “Are you sure we can’t have just one little rose?” “He said no!” Wallflower shouts. “We weren’t asking you!” “Now hold on.” Douglas places a hand on Wallflower's back and looks back up at the pair with a smile. “You can each take one, and only one. I’m really proud of this bush, but… if you really want a piece of it, I think I can part with that.” “Thank yoooooou~!” Without another word, Sweet Pea plucks a rose from the bush, takes a bite out of it, and happily trots out of the garden, leaving the gate open behind her. Spice Berry, on the other hand, has been quiet for some time. She pokes at the ground below her before clearing her throat. “M-Miss Wallflower?” “Huh?” She tilts her head in confusion, not expecting to be addressed. “I… I really liked your art piece. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked the staff to put it on display.” “You did?” “Mmhm. It… it really touched me. I-I know Sweet Pea and I have plenty of fans, but I think seeing your work was the first time in a really long time that I actually felt seen, you know? …I-I’m not making sense, please ignore me.” “No, I get you.” Wallflower’s voice is quiet and unsure. “I wasn’t really expecting that from you, of all ponies.” “Yeah,” she replies, her voice just as quiet. “I understand.” She turns to leave, but Wallflower places a hoof on her shoulder. “You know, if you ever want to discuss art for a little while… I’d be willing to talk.” “Hah! I wasn’t expecting that from you.” “That’s fair.” The air is silent for a long, tense moment until both mares simultaneously begin to laugh. They stay like that for a while until a voice rings out from the road nearby. “Spice Berry! Are you coming or what?!” “Yeah, I’m coming!” She turns back to Wallflower and Douglas before giving them one last smile. “I’ll see you around, okay?” With a wave goodbye, she follows Sweet Pea’s lead and trots out of the garden. She doesn’t take a rose, and she’s sure to close the gate behind her. When it finally shuts, Douglas and Wallflower turn towards each other. “Looks like you made another friend.” “Yeah,” Wallflower mumbles. “From the last place I ever would have expected.” “I’m happy for you.” “I’m happy for us.” “Haha!” With a content sigh, Douglas takes a seat underneath the lemon tree, and Wallflower doesn’t hesitate to join him. After a few moments, she sighs as well. Without a word and without warning, she scoots up to Douglas’s side and leans against him. Although surprised, he reaches out an arm and wraps it around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. It’s nighttime now, and a calm silence has fallen over Ponyville. For a while, the two stay just like that. No words need to be said. Douglas, the man who tried to please everyone to the point of taking on a fake name, denied himself true happiness. Wallflower, the mare who rejected everyone to the point of isolation and disappeared from the public eye, did the same to herself. Despite how different their approaches were, their problems were one and the same. In their attempts to please or deny everyone around them, they lost what they truly wanted: a real connection with someone that understands them. But now, they have each other. As they sit in that quiet garden, they look forward to the coming days. The days when Wallflower will make new, genuine friendships with others. The days when Douglas will allow his true self to be seen by those around him. The days when their flowers will bloom and their little garden becomes the place of beauty they both long for. The days that they’ll spend together, inseparable for the rest of their lives. As these thoughts swim through both of their minds, they look deep into each other’s eyes. And there, beneath the lemon tree in Douglas’s quiet garden, they share a kiss under the moonlit sky. Author's Note At long last, the finale! Thank you so much for all of your support! A lot of work went into this story, and I'm so glad to have taken this journey with you! As always, I appreciate any and all feedback!
