As Rarity stepped into her workroom, her sewing machine stashed in the corner and half-finished designs chucked into an overflowing trashcan, she felt her already hollow heart somehow crumble further, still in denial over one simple fact: 

Rarity used to be a designer. A good one and a bad one all at once.

But... she wasn’t a designer anymore. 

And if she wasn’t a designer, then she had no use to anypony. 

And if she had no use to anypony, she was worthless.

And if she was worthless, she was better off dead.

Thank you to Maxima for the cover art, and to Jykinturah and RBDash for seeing the absolute worst parts of me as I went through hell last year yet staying with me as if it was the most natural choice in the world. Thank you as well to my supporters on KoFi and Patreon for having faith in me even when I didn't.