The Century's Smile

by Jean_Pierre

Rating: teen
Tags: Adagio Dazzle, Sunset Shimmer, Romance, Equestria Girls
Length: 9019

Adagio faces the consequences brought by the defeat in the Battle of the Bands. It'll be the least expected person who changes her reality.

Defeats are not easy; they often symbolize failure and linger in memory as a sign of inadequacy. There are ways to overcome the ghosts of the past, and after a few years, Adagio manages to find one that brought her closer to happiness.
Sunset Shimmer represents much more than Adagio ever thought.

Entry for The Rainbow Rocks Shipping Contest.

Published 2024-07-07 04:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-07-07 04:00:01 UTC

Adagio's way.

The sun, which hadn't shone so brightly since the previous summer, illuminated the thousands of people cheering at the start of the concert. Adagio Dazzle, with an indelible smile, had no interest in anything outside the stage.

The Dazzlings had already seen the crowd, both getting off the bus and at the hotel where they stayed; indeed, the number of people exceeded their expectations. It would be a special concert, especially for Adagio. Sonata, happier than usual, spent an hour signing autographs and taking photos with fans who showered her with praise. Meanwhile, Aria was practicing her choruses, despite her sisters telling her more than once that her singing was excellent and that today would be no exception. She didn't want to let the minutes before the show slip away.

More than three hours had passed since the bus arrived at the stadium, a time when the place remained empty and quiet, adorned only with the giant screens installed two days earlier. The sound system was also in place, and the audience, whose volume of cheering increased every minute, seemed ready to shout at the top of their lungs when the curtains opened. Special effects, mostly smoke launchers and laser lights, would be used as night fell, which would come after their nine-song set from their latest album.

"It's almost time," Aria commented, approaching Adagio, who was looking at herself in the mirror. "Are you ready?"

"More than ready."

Adagio finished adjusting the sequins resting on her clothing; the reflection affirmed her statement. She turned her head to see Sonata at the other end of the stage, who was bouncing joyfully in her efforts to contain her excitement. How could she not be happy?

Smiling, Adagio recalled those distant times when she thought she had buried those dreams, when the most she'd aspire to was having enough money to buy a pizza at a shady restaurant and share it with her sisters. However, she no longer felt sadness when recalling those moments; now she cherished them for what they had become—the experiences that led to the joy of her present.

Outside, thousands of voices merged into a single shout, chanting their band's name: The Dazzlings.

She couldn't keep them waiting any longer. Adagio stood up and assumed a posture that conveyed the conviction and pride enveloping her new identity.

Allowing herself one last minute before stepping through the curtains, Adagio smiled and reached into the smallest pocket of the backpack resting on the floor. In her hands, she held a photograph of someone who still stirred a warmth in her chest. Adagio shed a tear, gazing at the image while her heart recalled sweet sensations of the past.

She couldn't escape the monotony of the city, the darkened lights from the building windows that so frequently resembled closed eyes in the sleepy sky, contrasting with the vivid glows descending from the streetlights. The corners, which she couldn't quite remember if they had changed in the last decade, seemed to whisper the same stories of routine and repetition. On the sides of the road, the gentle swaying at the tops of the trees seemed to be the only effort to sprinkle a bit of novelty.

Adagio had a clear path, the lane had no obstacles other than a speed bump; sixty meters ahead she would encounter the second one and then she'd take a moment to think. Overall, everything remained the same.

Adagio assumed that Aria and Sonata were already at the cinema, ready to watch the action movie they had been eagerly anticipating for weeks, which had been the cause of their good mood lately. She took out her phone when she noticed her worry starting to demand more attention, even causing her fingers to tremble.

"Hello?" she said after a few seconds of ringing.

"Adagio, you won't believe it! This line is the worst! I don't think we'll get in before forty minutes."

"Are you and Sonata okay?"

"If by okay you mean I'm about to lose my mind, then yes."

For Adagio, that response was enough.

"I understand, enjoy the movie."

"If we even get to see it," Aria muttered. "Bye, take care."

She continued driving towards the flora-filled ravine on the edge of the city, a spot about eighty meters from the nearest structure, mostly an open field of grass that was also mostly free of people. She couldn't quite understand why people didn't frequent that place; maybe they couldn't find the spark that Adagio saw.

The evanescent surroundings kept reclaiming the sky, the stars above shining like a string of pearls that mitigated the moon's solitude. Adagio hit the brakes and got out of the vehicle, observing her surroundings; a distant tree peeking from the right, the waves of the sea emitting natural whispers, a group of...

She immediately wrinkled her nose and looked up at the clouds. She had something in mind to say (or to shout, if she wanted to get rid of the sudden burning in her head), but that something had to stay in the hidden zone of her soul. She couldn't afford another fine.

'Disturbing the peace? Of course not, officer, I was simply expressing my exuberant joy at being able to enjoy the meteor shower. I swear.'

She had learned to clench her fists in every situation that caused her such discomfort, doing it so often that it became an involuntary yet useful gesture.

The Rainbooms, their mere presence made Adagio tempted to slap herself in the face and growl. In retrospect, she should have seen it coming; it had been a good number of days without any negative event, but she didn't expect them to claim the spot Adagio already considered her own.

She thought about turning back, getting in her car, and stepping on the accelerator without looking back, but that would be admitting defeat, another one to the list. Releasing a deep sigh, Adagio walked behind the silver fences that bordered the area. The Rainbooms weren't shouting, yet Adagio could hear their voices, their laughter, and their comments about the excitement they felt.

The silver lining (because there had to be one) was that they hadn't seen her. They were sitting on a light cloth, their backs turned, their faces fixed on each other and the star-filled atmosphere around them.

Adagio stopped walking once she reached thirty meters, where she felt she'd enjoy the celestial show without losing that connection with the place. She sat on the grass and waited in silence, resting her arms on her knees.

The report she had seen last night indicated that the shower would start at ten, and her phone showed that less than five minutes remained. Five minutes of auditory void, five minutes of feeling her own breathing rise and fall, five minutes of watching the beach from above and admiring the sand soaked by the waves' assaults.

She looked at the grass suddenly, not because she wanted to find a lottery ticket or something like that (though she wouldn't mind), but because she noticed that time was losing its meaning, and paradoxically, that was what made it so complex.

What was the meaning of life? That was the most acclaimed question by humans. For Adagio, the answer was as simple as every living being having to continue until they fulfilled their purpose, whether it was a goal assigned by nature or a personal desire driven by whim. That simple—why seek more logic? But when she shared it with others, they seemed to reject the idea that such a vague answer could ideally correspond to the extensive complexity of the question. Wow, they kept going around the issue.

The ruin experienced after losing the Battle of the Bands would always be there, like a thorn embedded in her heart. She remembered the details of that tragic night when their dreams, along with their pendants, shattered. She recalled the desperation the three of them suffered when they ran aimlessly; their actions were reduced to a simple escape from everything they had come to know until then. The worst part was that defeat had never seemed like a possibility. For years, the issue buzzed around in her head like an annoying hum, and Adagio couldn't pinpoint the failure. They were defeated because they weren't powerful enough, and when she realized that, she couldn't acknowledge it.

Sunset was approaching, Adagio could see her silhouette heading toward her out of the corner of her eye, but chose to maintain her posture as if she didn't notice. Clenching her fists harder and tightening her lips, Adagio decided to be a victim of fate.

"Adagio, it's great to see you here," Sunset greeted cheerfully, waving her wrist.

"Hello, Sunset."

What else could she want? Adagio kept looking straight ahead, eyes half-closed, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation.

Sunset didn't share her thought. Contrary to what Adagio would deem appropriate, Sunset sat beside her and started fiddling with the soft grass.

"How are Aria and Sonata?"

"They're... still alive. Despite everything we've been through, the three of us are still alive," Adagio said without any alteration in her voice. "I suppose that makes you feel better, doesn't it, Sunset?"

"I'm not trying to make things worse."

"No, even if you tried, it would be hard for you to succeed."

"Adagio..."

"Do you remember the Battle of the Bands? I don't know what it meant to you, but for my sisters and me, it marked a change in everything. A before and after," she declared, glancing at the multitude of stars.

"I did what I thought was right. Look, I know what you were seeking and I understand the role you felt obliged to take. In your place, I think I would have done the same."

"We had to leave Canterlot for several months before finding a way to feed and survive," Adagio's patience was wearing thin. "Do you have any idea what it's like to go nights without eating, live on the streets, and subsist on odd jobs that pay a pittance?"

"Things could have gone much better. After the battle, I went looking for you but couldn't find you. I wanted to help..."

"You already did enough for us," Adagio said, feeling the vivid memories regain strength and undermine the firmness of her voice. "Sunset, you don't know how much I hated you."

"It's not too late," Sunset said, placing a hand on Adagio's shoulder. "I can offer financial support and maybe later..."

"That's not how it works," she whispered. "But believe it or not, I'd like things to be that simple too. I don't hate you anymore; that should be more than enough for you, and if you refuse to believe it, that's your problem."

Adagio stood up, noting the cold was more intense than it had been a few minutes ago. Behind her, the first signs of the nightly spectacle could be glimpsed. Adagio turned around, revealing a bittersweet expression that reached deep into her being, and looked directly at the girl in front of her.

"Goodbye, Sunset Shimmer," she said before leaving.

The seat of her car no longer seemed as comfortable, and the coat she wore seemed to be made of tiny, low-quality threads that caused itching. No growls were heard. Only, in the same position as before, her fists lost their firmness and began to shake like sad forest twigs. She could see the meteor shower through the window, the Rainbooms raising their voices and their enthusiastic arms at the scene. Leaning back in the seat, Adagio covered her eyes. She thought she heard a sob, then two, until the passing seconds informed her that she had indeed lost another battle against her emotions. She wanted to hit the steering wheel, but her hands refused to move away from her face. She started the engine a minute later, just as she saw Sunset enter her field of vision and approach her group of friends. The fatigue of her own breathing was her faithful travel companion.

While Aria prepared the sauce for lunch, Sonata was busy cooking the noodles in the boiling water. She had to stretch her arms well to carry out the task; the bubbling combined with the crunchy sound of the mixture was not very friendly to her. She still remembered the time she burned her fingers by accident. But instead of creating a trauma, the moment filled her with the spirit to challenge the soup again as soon as possible. Aria instructed her as she had been doing for months. If anything good came out of the Battle of the Bands, it was the bond the group of sisters was able to develop. Fortunately, it was Sunday, so they could take the day off before returning to work at the Call Center the next day.

Unexpectedly, there was a knock on the door, which caused Aria and Sonata to exchange glances since they both knew Adagio wouldn't be back from the supermarket for at least another twenty minutes.

Sonata opened the door, and the delivery man handed her an envelope, simple and accompanied by a single stamp marking the apartment’s address. Before leaving, the man asked Sonata to sign the sheet on his clipboard.

“Did you order anything?” Sonata asked, looking at Aria while noticing that the envelope did not indicate the sender's name.

“It must be for Adagio. Could you call her for me? I have my hands full”

Sonata nodded and searched for her phone, waiting in silence for her older sister's voice to interrupt the ringing.

“Dagi, were you expecting an envelope to arrive at our place?” she asked anxiously.

That was when Adagio's steps stopped, her eyes pointing but not really paying attention to the dairy and light condiments aisle.

“Did you open the envelope?” Adagio asked calmly.

“No, I thought it'd bother you if I did it for... you know, a personal matter.”

“Open it,” Adagio said, “and please tell me the amount it contains.”

As confused as a panda in a desert, Sonata obeyed her sister's order, struggling to ignore the avalanche of questions swirling in her head. Seeing the greenish tone, she felt a sharp chill run down her spine.

“Oh my god! It's dollars, hundreds of dollars!” she exclaimed, hearing Aria's footsteps approaching quickly.

“All right,” Adagio sighed, feeling a bundle of emotions she had to compress for a while. “Don't do anything with the money. I'll go solve a matter and be back before six,” she said before hanging up.

A new sigh escaped her lips, accompanied by the knowledge that it wouldn't be the quiet day she had planned before getting out of bed. With her hands hidden in her pockets and an expression that didn't radiate friendliness, Adagio headed to Sunset’s house.

While waiting for the food to thaw, Sunset held a pen in her hand, trying to find the six-letter word that'd complete the left side of the crossword puzzle. The ring of the doorbell took her by surprise, especially since she had just spoken with her friends a few minutes ago in a group video call. The mystery ended when the visitor, with a firm voice, started calling out Sunset Shimmer’s name.

Adagio wasted no time; as soon as the doorknob turned, she entered the house with heavy footsteps and tense shoulders, barely able to perceive the grimace she wore as she wrinkled her nose.

“Give me an explanation. Now,” Adagio ordered, crossing her arms.

“I thought you needed it,” Sunset hurried to say. “It’s one hundred and fifty dollars. I know it’s not a lot, but I hope it helps improve your quality of life, at least for a few days. Look, I can send you some amount every weekend, can’t I…?”

“Sunset,” Adagio said with a booming voice. “Do you know what… Rather, do you know who is the reason we’re living this way?”

The answer remained locked in Sunset’s memory box, refusing to come to light.

“Say it,” Adagio added, doing her best to ensure her legs didn’t forget how to keep her standing. “I want to hear it from you, right now.”

Sunset hesitated for a moment, but seeing the expression before her made her lower her arms and adopt a posture of surrender.

“It’s me, Adagio. I am that reason.”

Ignoring the pounding of her heart against her chest, Adagio remained silent, observing the face of the girl who had turned her life upside down.

“But it doesn’t have to stay that way,” Sunset added, gaining conviction in her words. “I shouldn’t have overlooked what would happen to you after you lost your pendants. I made a mistake, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“It happened three years ago. Don’t you think it’s a bit late?”

“You say that as if I’m only trying now,” Sunset retorted, taking a step forward. “When I saw you again, you don’t know the joy I felt knowing you were still together. I thought it'd be best to give you some time. I knew you were wishing the worst for me. I waited a few more months until we'd cross the same streets without provoking a fight. What about the Christmas party? I invited you, but you didn’t come.”

“We preferred to spend the night together,” Adagio stated.

“Sonata said she'd have liked to come,” Sunset replied. “Please, Adagio, let’s fix things.”

The leader of the Dazzlings, far from what she thought she'd do at first, slightly bowed her head in a gesture imperceptible at the distance Sunset was standing.

“Listen to me,” Adagio said, heading for the door and stopping as she stood in front of the other girl’s face. “All I ask is that you don’t come near me or my sisters again,” she added before leaving.

From Sunset’s perspective, the sound of the door closing seemed to shake the whole house, as well as her emotions.

With an itching sensation in her hands, Sunset closed her eyes, sighed, contemplated the absolute silence surrounding her home’s walls, and let herself fall while forcing her mind to think about what she should do.

'We're fine, and we achieved it through our own effort.'

The phrase seemed reluctant to lose its strength and continued to linger in Adagio's mind as she sat resting at one end of her room. Silence no longer existed; the volume was muted but managed to filter through the walls. Her sisters were accustomed to watching the same TV show every night at the same time, a series so long that it caused Adagio to lose interest by the fourth season. Yet, thinking about it only redirected her thoughts to a certain idea. Aria and Sonata got along well, forming a duo that a few years ago seemed unimaginable. She understood that what had stopped them from arguing every five minutes were the circumstances, what a curious word. Despite this, she knew that if she had the option to go back in time, a part of her would take it. She would return to the time when their voices were the most prestigious that could exist.

"Maybe Sunset was right," she told herself after a long period of wandering thoughts. She felt stupid whenever her mind returned to these reminiscences, but she knew they were necessary; Sunset did nothing but protect her own. Adagio had accepted it from the beginning: Dazzlings vs Rainbooms, that was the brief description of the duel she had decided to lead. Her sisters seemed to have accepted defeat a long time ago; they didn't seem to have conflicts or violent reactions towards the Rainbooms even though they were responsible for the change. They had already accepted it, so why couldn't she? Once again, she recognized the peculiar way humans acted. The important thing, the matter that kept resonating, was: Why? What is the purpose of protecting each other when there isn't even a significant bond? It went against what a siren could understand, and Adagio feared that the doubt would persist for a thousand more years.

She knew the TV show had ended when a couple of screams enveloped the living room, followed by the brief minutes in which her sisters would process what had happened in the episode. And then it would be time to practice.

Ten minutes later, Adagio left her room, encouraged by the inconsistency of her thoughts that was beginning to invade her, and fortunately were interrupted by Aria's call. Upon arrival, she saw Sonata repeating the seven musical notes with a soft voice. A few meters away, Aria seemed impatient to start, as she regulated her breathing.

"Alright," Adagio mentioned, clapping her hands once and seeing her sisters in front of her. "Are you ready?"

Encouraged, both girls nodded. Adagio counted to three aloud and smiled at her sisters as her hands became gestures made by the leader of an orchestra. Or at least she tried. She didn't say it aloud because it seemed unnecessary and could ruin the naturalness of the atmosphere, but she was grateful to have them there one more day. As usual, Sonata smiled and spread her enthusiasm. Aria took a somewhat different route; on more than one occasion, she declared that practicing was a waste of time, but Adagio concluded that it was a superficial thought, considering she never missed a practice. It was the day they left the past behind and prepared to return to being themselves, the time when they would try to achieve the hypnotic melody they released at the beginning of their songs. As expected, her voice stood out because her chant was the loudest. There was no surprise, no miracles; their voices, mere disguises hiding the magic contained in the pendants, continued to refuse to show any significant progress.

Adagio stopped singing and asked them to take a deep breath, an inhalation that filled them with peace.

She recalled the chant performed on the Canterlot High stage after their defeat. She thought she relived the surprise of hearing such distrustful sounds escape her lips. She believed she felt the touch of a claw against her hopes when visualizing the moments of that tragic night, where the beginning of a fear was marked, in which each of them had no interest in pronouncing a musical note again. Just thinking about singing brought a feeling of discomfort to her throat. Adagio could feel that the wound was still open, but neither she nor her sisters wanted to continue depending on time. Singing was what they enjoyed the most; giving it up forever caused a sadness that none of them wanted to experience again. Even if it meant seeing themselves fail hundreds of times more.

"Sonata, focus a bit more on the tones, try to think only about the flow of your vocal cords. And Aria, try to tune and sharpen the prelude; imagine you're not pronouncing any letters, but your heart is speaking."

The suggestions sparked a slight enthusiasm in her sisters, who nodded again and believed they glimpsed a spark indicating that the next attempt would be the one they dreamed of.

Adagio listened to them for five seconds before stopping them again. Feeling the sweat drops on the tips of her fingers, she asked them to listen to her. She began forming the image of dozens of musical notes floating like balloons expelled from her mouth, filling the room as a display worthy of applause. It had to be positive, wasn't that what everyone said? An instant before Aria interrupted her, she herself realized the timelessness of her voice.

"Adagio, be honest," the ponytailed girl commented, not very convinced of what she was about to say. "Do you think there's a goal?"

Adagio simply nodded.

"I think what Aria means," Sonata indicated, "is if we can be sure this will yield results. I mean, even without the pendants, will we be able to sing again someday?"

Adagio didn't have the answer, and acknowledging it brought a cold current to her lips and eyelids.

"I don't know," she admitted softly, "but it's what we enjoy doing, right? Whether we can or cannot sing again depends on how much effort we put into it, doesn't it? It won't be easy, it never has been, but if we stay united as we have been all this time, what can't we achieve?"

After a few seconds, both Sonata and Aria could see her point. They prepared to resume practice and continued to illuminate the room with their efforts. Adagio was the only one who had to hide her dismay with a smile.

The session ended after fifty minutes. The night, more evanescent than usual, appeared as a layer of darkness through the window that Adagio couldn't stop looking at. She told her sisters they could rest and that she'd make dinner, an action that earned their thanks. Two thanks were more than enough for her to open her eyes the next day.

Three months had passed before Adagio thought about the matter again. Aria, as direct as ever, told her to take things easy as she and Sonata left home. Where to? The answer shouldn't cause much intrigue, Adagio understood that much. It wasn't the first time they had gone out without her, but it was one of those rare occasions when she had a feeling—though she couldn't identify if it was a good or bad one. They said their goodbyes at five in the afternoon; it had been two hours and almost forty minutes since then. Adagio was tempted to send a message asking, "What's the surprise you mentioned?"

Yet, the dawn before her didn't indicate any bad omen. Unconsciously, Adagio had adopted the habit of associating her surroundings with what would soon happen to her, as if it were a message from destiny—a concept she had read in a book and decided to test for a while. Whether for better or worse, bedtime was approaching. The streets were no longer as crowded as during the city's rush hours, but she managed to encounter the same citizens at every corner she reached. A profound feeling distracted her from the root of her concern.

The singing lessons seemed to be paying off, at least for her. They still couldn't sing like superstars or have the potential to win first place in any singing contest they entered, but a spark of improvement existed. Adagio supposed the progress came from the confidence they had gained over time and their conviction—something cheesy at first, but the more she thought about it, the theory made more sense. The conclusions brought with them a comforting cloak that Adagio didn't want to let go of. They had improved their coordination, and the hypnotic rhythm no longer came out choppy. She still had serious doubts about whether they would ever achieve the excellence they had reached in the Battle of the Bands.

The air was cold, and the gusts brushing her face made her think how unfortunate their lives would be if, like humans, they could get sick too. It would be one more problem on the list, oh yes! But the walks were useful; even that last word seemed insufficient to describe the emotions Adagio experienced with each step she took. Apart from the sense of improvement, the days remained monotonous. It didn't bother her in the slightest, as long as the three of them remained united, she thought she had no serious reasons to complain.

She remembered in great detail the last conversation she had with Sunset, the gestures on the girl's face still engraved in her memory; it looked like the expression someone makes when they recognize they've lost, that the best thing they can do is throw in the towel. Looking at the blackness of the sky, Adagio again recognized that she owed her some apologies.

A new shiver overtook her, and Adagio succumbed to her worries. Maybe she was falling too much into the hole of mysticism, but she didn't care, she took out her phone and sent a message to the group chat she had with her sisters: "Are you both okay?"

Before she could put her phone back in her pocket, a notification shook her hand. Quick reply. She wasn't sure whether to be glad or fear the worst. Aria said yes, they were fine. A moment later, she sent a picture of her and Sonata smiling, although their faces covered the place where they were.

Adagio sighed with relief. She could continue walking in peace, her heart beating at a steady pace and her eyelids closing without anything to fear. But that peace was interrupted by something worthy of being called "unreal". First, she heard the distant squeal of tires struggling to stop, and a second later a car appeared on the same street she was walking along. It was a car that Adagio thought she had seen somewhere, but her memory succumbed to the fleeting terror. When the vehicle turned towards her direction, Adagio (true to her new beliefs) assumed it was over, she would die run over by an out-of-control vehicle and become a famous note saying: "Woman dies run over after chatting with her sisters."

But the car quickly regained control, stayed firm on the road, and its speed decreased slightly, but Adagio didn't calm down at all. The windows were closed, so Adagio couldn't see any faces on the other side. However, one of them rolled down, and through the small opening came a paper airplane. After overcoming the shock, Adagio thought she should applaud the driver's aim—the airplane had landed directly in her hands. Without further mystery, the car started to disappear down the road.

Adagio wanted to scream. Her heart took a while, but after a few seconds, it settled back inside her. Turning her attention to the object, she noticed the paper airplane was a letter, its words stretching from the wings to the fuselage. She unfolded the folds and began to read, realizing that the handwriting didn't match either of her sisters'.

"Dear Adagio, I know our last conversation didn't reflect the best part of us, and you were very direct when you said you didn't want us to speak again. Despite that, I'd like us to meet again at the karaoke bar, in an hour if you're okay with it. I understand the reasons why you don't want to see me or talk to me, and perhaps this letter will make you hate me again. But I'm willing to take that risk. Either way, if you refuse to come, I'll understand."

Underneath the message, Sunset Shimmer's name was written.

Adagio looked up and glanced around. She hesitated; a moment ago, she thought she was fine, and now this. She realized she didn't feel anger, much less hatred. It must be an apology, she thought, the perfect opportunity to apologize was unfolding before her eyes as the work of some divine creature that had heard her inner monologues. The clock on her phone indicated that time shouldn't be a concern. Adagio returned home and got into her car, rehearsing how she should articulate the regret she felt for her actions.

The Canterlot bar was a peculiar construction; from the outside, it looked like a spacious establishment that could fit two volleyball fields, but inside, its size seemed capable of housing ten buses. There was no sound to be heard, and although the windows were transparent, they were made of a material that, from the outside, made the place appear to be flooded with a colorful, prismatic fog. Adagio pushed the doors open, and the surprise that hit her prevented her from taking more than a step.

"Adagio!" echoed through the four walls—a joyful exclamation from six voices to the left and one to the right. The Rainbooms were there, standing around one of the tables. Sunset approached Adagio and wasted no time in telling her, with a voice free of uncertainty, how glad she was that she had come.

However, Adagio was in a state of confusion that left her petrified. She couldn't stop seeing Aria and Sonata standing on the bar's stage, smiling at her with their hands on two of the microphones. She turned her head from side to side, confirming that her sisters and the Rainbooms were the only ones populating the place.

"What's going on?" Adagio murmured, her gaze fixed on Sunset.

"Go ahead," Sunset replied, gesturing towards the stage. "Do what you do best."

The perplexity began to fade, and Adagio took a few steps toward the space where two pairs of familiar and beloved faces awaited her. She understood what Sunset meant the moment she noticed the third microphone placed between her sisters.

"You two... are you okay with all of this?" Adagio murmured.

"Come on, Dagi," Sonata said.

"Will you go up alone or do you need help?" Aria joked.

With a smile on her face, filling the room with a new silence, Adagio stepped onto the stage where her sisters awaited. Moved, Adagio expelled traces of tension in the form of a deep sigh.

You're here, show that you can still do it.

The melody flowed, enveloping the air with a sweet musicality. Keeping her eyes closed and releasing every ounce of finesse her heart could convey, Adagio showed herself as the girl who no longer wanted to dwell in failures, presenting to the world her soft yet powerful voice. Aria, emitting that warm spark of pride she so cherished, colored the chant with harmonizing blends full of passion, her intonations bringing forth happy recollections she felt fortunate to remember. The projection that Sonata added to the performance was thanks to the obstacles life had placed before her; she continued to sing as if each note filled her with confidence, with the fulfillment she felt every time she sang.

The rhythm extended until it reached the climax of the song, where each second passed with the slowness only they could grant it. Adagio felt the satisfaction that embraced her fears and turned them into a stream of experiences arising from the passion with which her voice illuminated the stage. Adagio felt as alive as if the flame within her had taken the courage to burn like a great bonfire of fervent zeal. Then, the world narrowed down to the three girls standing on the wooden floor, the three people who, after a long journey of obstacles and failures, once again showed that they did not want to remain locked in the darkness of the past.

From Adagio's lips, the last note, sweet and with a melancholic meaning, emerged. The bar filled with a crowd of applause; the Rainbooms looked with heads held high at the group of sisters who now commanded fervent admiration with their silence.

"That was incredible!" exclaimed Sunset after the applause ended, her voice lost in what her eyes had just witnessed. "I'm so proud of you..."

Lost in her emotions, she was surprised by Adagio's hug.

"Oh my God! Sunset! You have no idea how sorry I am!"

Sunset, after the surprise, stroked her hair in response, still struggling to breathe. After a few seconds, Adagio stepped back, wiping her tears and offering a smile to disguise her embarrassment.

"Everything's okay, Adagio. Everything's okay."

However, the silence in the bar lasted less than expected.

"Very well," said Sunset suddenly, regaining the lively state with which she had planned to make the announcement. "I still have one last surprise for you."

Still on stage, Aria and Sonata exchanged looks of confusion.

"Huh?" Sonata asked.

"What are you talking about?" Aria inquired.

Sunset Shimmer simply widened her smile and took out her phone from her pocket. Adagio watched as she tapped the screen until, after a few seconds, she looked up again.

"I'm sorry if I didn't tell you before, I just thought this way would be more appropriate," said Sunset, pointing to the top corner of the bar's room and placing the screen in front of Adagio.

Aria and Sonata, still intrigued by the mystery, guided their gaze to that direction and understood why there had been so much secrecy. In the corner, hidden in such a way that it would be impossible to notice casually, was a camera.

And at the top of Sunset's screen chat, Adagio could read: "Music Producer."

Aria and Sonata rushed to the screen, their six eyes watching attentively the rise and fall of the three dots in the chat bubble. The wait seemed to have claimed every trace of patience in their bodies.

But the notification sound came, and with it, a glow integrated into the Dazzlings' gaze.

"What?" Sunset said, squinting. "Is it something good?"

After a few seconds, three cries of euphoria flooded the bar.

"THANK YOU, SUNSET! THANK YOU SO MUCH!" Adagio expressed as tears fell down her cheeks, the agitation of her heart, stronger than she could ever remember, made her witness a powerful feeling of joy.

Frozen and limited to her lips forming a tiny smile, Sunset hugged Adagio in return for the strength the girl exerted in her arms, heard her faint sobs, even the thumping of her heart. Then Adagio stepped back, her flushed cheeks adorning the expression on her face.

"I'm sorry," she admitted, still holding a trembling voice and bringing two fingers to her eyes to wipe them. "I should have handled the situation better, I let the past steer my present, and... I can't be more sorry... Sunset, I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. The past is always a part of oneself, there's no way to go back. But it's us who can choose to move forward. And you, Adagio, did much better than you think."

Sunset hugged her again, and Adagio rested her face on her shoulder. Then her sisters joined in, filling her with honest praise, the main one being, "You're the best sister." The Rainbooms all ran at once to complete the scene, where beyond the hustle of the streets and the twilight of the city, fulfillment enveloped the atmosphere within those four walls.

As they got into the car and drove to the address agreed upon by the producer, the Dazzlings couldn't help but watch the buildings whiz by through the windows, sunlight illuminating their surroundings. It felt strange. They knew they'd return in a matter of hours; it wasn't a move or anything similar, just a visit. Yet, the sense of change seemed palpable.

After a series of questions, a couple of introductions, and statements that strictly had to be sincere, the three signed the contract that marked something crossing the boundary between reality and dreams. The recording of their first album took place in a professional studio, a spacious and pleasant place. They were granted more freedom in melody and lyrics than they could have hoped for. With the help of a group of vocal coaches, their lyrical abilities continued to rise.

The debut of their song attracted their first followers; the listener count increased daily, serving as yet another source of motivation. Over time, they managed to advertise their song on local radio channels and small venues. Their website gradually filled with content, from interviews to pleasant conversations with their followers. Nevertheless, there was still ample room for progress.

Adagio could never have seen it coming, but the Rainbooms became that group of friends who only added to their lives; within reason, any differences that arose were resolved with great naturalness. Furthermore, the inspiration they emitted through the bond they maintained was largely the protagonist of many of their song lyrics.

A month after celebrating the first anniversary of their debut song release, the Dazzlings managed to release their first album, fueled by their experiences of overcoming and the significant change they had lived through thanks to their friends. Their audience grew massively due to the marketing campaign of their new sponsors. The reviews were positive, and their group's name climbed the popularity charts.

Immersed in ethical integrity, Adagio didn't need to achieve the utmost glory to feel fulfilled. She smiled as she saw Sunset close by during local performances, helping her adjust the microphone or offering reassuring phrases to calm her nerves.

It wasn't long ago, at a café just across the street, where Sunset had been sitting alone for ten minutes, waiting for the girl with fluffy hair to arrive. The little bell chimed as her guest pushed the door open, her jacket darkened with mud stains and tendrils of hair going in random directions. Despite this, she carried a small bouquet of roses (surprisingly pristine in contrast). Adagio took her seat and adjusted the folds of her sleeves. Before Sunset could utter a word, Adagio said, "Don't ask."

After that, both found it easy to enjoy the surroundings. Coffee cups arrived after a few minutes, their aroma mingling with the rustic ambiance that made Adagio's cheeks blush, reminding her of that beautiful moment.

"I still can't believe you organized all that at the bar, it was... unexpected, but somehow I guess it was necessary. I hope the five hundred dollars you spent didn't cause you any trouble."

"No, not at all. My friends helped with the money, I just contributed the idea and planning," Sunset languidly replied.

"Still, it was a huge surprise that I think about every hour of the day. Seriously, thank you so much."

"I knew you needed something like that," Sunset said, smiling. "All of you, really. Closing that chapter was best for us too."

"I know, but it's not easy to forget. I spent hours wondering... Why?"

"All three of you have been through so much. Music was always what you loved most, your sisters made sure I knew that. I thought what I should do was give them a chance to show that you could turn those negative experiences into something beautiful. If done right, mistakes can turn into learning."

"It was a cathartic moment, I suppose," Adagio chuckled. "I felt vulnerable when I saw all of you together."

"Vulnerability isn't a bad thing, in fact, it's what allows us to connect."

"Thank you for this conversation," Adagio said with a slight smile. "It's curious that someone as strong as you can speak so gently about these things."

"It wasn't always like this, and you know that well," Sunset replied, briefly glancing at her reflection in the coffee. "But I've learned that there's always something good to be found in what once held us back. You have something, Adagio, something you can't fully see, and I'm willing to help you discover it."

Adagio couldn't hold back, she left her seat and concluded the conversation with a hug filled with love and gratitude.

It was nine o'clock in the evening, and the festival's energy seemed unwilling to cease.
The flutes continued to play as they had been doing for several hours. As for the other instruments, Adagio was unaware of their names, but Sunset informed her that they were Chinese musical instruments such as drums and cymbals. They evoked a musicality full of contrasting expressiveness, as if a young man, whose voice embraced joviality, were singing along while playing an electric guitar. Yet, the powerful melody made Adagio sway her neck slightly with a pleasant grace.

Red and yellow—those were the standout colors at the fair, a beautiful combination to say the least. Adagio took another bite of her dumplings and after chewing, remarked:

"This place has everything."

"Isn't it just amazing?" affirmed Sunset, scanning the surroundings. "Oh, look at that!"

She took Adagio's arm and, maneuvering through the crowd of people of all ages, hurried to the attraction that caught her attention. Adagio noticed Sunset's smile before seeing the dragon in front of them, exuding majesty with its serpentine movements and predominantly reddish hue that demanded acclaim. The audience around them looked on in wonder, their hands moving to the rhythm of the music. Adagio took another bite of her dumpling and approached Sunset.

"What are we watching?"

"The dragon dance!" exclaimed Sunset, feeling a fervor that filled her with enthusiasm. "Don't you love it? It's the second-best event at the festival."

Adagio assumed they had seen much more incredible things but didn't voice it aloud.

"What's the first?"

"The lantern release."

Adagio didn't continue the conversation (or, more specifically, she started talking to herself). She had an interesting idea in mind.

She took two steps back where Sunset couldn't see her and grabbed the remaining two dumplings from the box, quickly stuffing them into her mouth.

"Sunset," Adagio said, tapping her shoulder. "Look, we're out of dumplings. I'll go get more, stay here."

Sunset simply nodded and continued smiling at the dragon's spectacle.

Keeping an eye on the nearby stalls, Adagio moved away from the crowd and began to walk. Over a thousand years of existence were not in vain; her memory rarely failed her, and she was glad it didn't this time.

She reached the lantern booth, one of the few at the fair. People preferred making their own lanterns, taking pride in crafting the paper figures and aligning the bamboo ribs. Adagio wasn't sure why, but she supposed it was the sense of accomplishment that came from completing a job on their own.

"Hello," greeted Adagio to the elderly man behind the counter. Then she examined the options in front of her. "How much is... that lantern over there?"

"Ah, that one," said the elderly man slowly, eyeing a thirty-centimeter tall lantern adorned with small dots that, upon closer inspection, revealed themselves to be stars. Predominantly in a matte red, the intricate design hinted at the complexity that covered the entire design. "Fifty dollars."

Scammer!

"Alright," she said reluctantly as she put her hands in her pockets and took out the corresponding amount. "Here you go."

For its size, the lantern was surprisingly light, akin to a plastic grocery bag. She passed by structures with curved roofs, thick pillars, and attractions closer to typical traditional fair games. Inevitably, she felt lighter thinking about the past few hours of fun with Sunset.

She headed to the giant table where adults and children were sitting, adding the finishing touches to their creations. She sat down and told herself she had to be quick.

She held the brush as delicately as she would play Jenga, yet the paper seemed inclined to tear at any moment. There were no artistic miracles. Her drawings could easily be mistaken for those of a child no older than ten years old, exacerbated by the pressure she felt knowing Sunset could surprise her at any moment. After finishing outlining the body, which amounted to loose black paint lines, it was time to draw the face. The head was nothing more than a yellow circle, but once again, time felt like a sharp cross that pierced her intentions to surprise Sunset. Just two drops of black paint for the eyes would suffice.

She continued dipping the brush into the red paint and created wavy figures intended to be hair. Using yellow paint, her tongue peeked out between her lips in a moment of concentration. The sigh that followed was interrupted by what her eyes captured; the paint ran like wet makeup. Then Adagio realized that perhaps this lantern was not meant to be modified.

Carefully, she moved the lantern a few centimeters from the table, now with a clear space, she dropped her head against the wooden surface. Statistically, the next action to occur should be something positive, but it was not.

"There you are, Adagio!" Sunset commented from a distance. "You know, the attractions lose a certain degree of excitement when you're not there."

Adagio forced a smile and realized that a nervous laugh had escaped her, unnoticed, she also started moving her shoulders in circles as if she were tired. She turned the lantern a few centimeters until she was sure Sunset couldn't see the side of the drawing.

"Do you want to go to..." inquired Sunset.

Adagio, taking a risk, replied:

"To see the lanterns? Of course! Moreover, this beauty here is for us, I got it at an incredible discount, so it was no trouble. Let's release it now!"

She stood up and took Sunset's hand without letting her express her confusion. Together, they headed to the release area.

Upon arrival, Sunset's bewilderment had turned into excitement.

"Can I see it?" asked Sunset.

Adagio was careful as she pointed out the lantern, focusing on the correct angle to hide the recent paint stains.

"It looks amazing," acknowledged Sunset, taking a step forward and extending her arms. "Is it the same on the other side?"

"Yes!" replied Adagio instantly, pulling the object towards her as if hugging it. "It's exactly the same, what lazy designers, don't you think?"

How much longer?

They were in a dark green grassy area where the music reduced to murmurs. She borrowed a lighter from someone nearby and lit her purchase. Then a man's call sounded, announcing firmly that in sixty seconds, they could release the lanterns.

"Adagio," Sunset suddenly spoke. "You know I'll see it anyway, right?"

"What?"

"When you release it and it starts to rise in the sky, I'll see all the details there."

Adagio's heart, far from stopping or speeding up, seemed to have risen to her throat. Part of her wanted to laugh while another part wanted to run.

"You know what, Sunset," declared Adagio, pulling the lantern away from her chest. "Go ahead, look at it." She watched as Sunset stretched her arms with a conviction that required slow motion; somehow, Adagio felt that time had indeed slowed down. "But don't say I didn't warn you," she mumbled.

Sunset's hands took the lantern and turned it over, revealing the scene she had wanted to discover. Adagio kept her eyes closed and concentrated on what she could hear.

In the first second, her voice was not heard, nor in the second or third. A victim of uncertainty, Adagio lifted her eyelids and observed Sunset's amused expression. Then both locked eyes, and Sunset couldn't contain her laughter anymore.

"Oh my God! IS THAT ME?" she exclaimed as laughter interrupted her breath. "Come on, Adagio, ever thought of being the next Van Gogh?"

After sensing the sweetness in the air and seeing through Sunset's happiness, Adagio's lips formed a natural smile. She once thought about how pleasing life became every time Sunset was near, her presence enough to beautify any environment Adagio had no intention of giving up. She continued to look at her, admiring her, as weightless softness mingled with feeling.

"Oh, yeah? Well, rest assured my art portrays you perfectly," Adagio commented.

"Yes, I got it!"

Soon Adagio burst into laughter that warmed her chest, one of the few loud noises that could evoke a positive feeling in her. Especially if the laughter also came from Sunset.

Through a megaphone, the announcement was made that the lanterns could be released.

"What do you say?" said Sunset, wiping away tears. "Together?"

"Together."

They held the lantern and watched it rise when their fingers stopped touching it, the figure illuminated the nearby area and dazzled as it emitted a silence that both Sunset and Adagio could feel. They held hands and watched the light climb alongside the others but somehow managed to stand out. Smiling, they watched as their lantern approached the stars, ascending into the cloudless sky while the thin strips of clear paper fluttered in the breeze. For both of them, it was the most wonderful figure in that nocturnal painting.

One day before the next tour began, the weather felt devoid of any trace of negativity. Alongside Sunset, in front of the flowered field where that meteor shower had occurred more than a decade ago, Adagio was the canvas where the sunlight painted the most fervent gratitude. She thought of nothing but the present; her sisters were in other parts of the city, handling the few remaining pending matters and taking one last look around before the hectic weeks ahead. Embracing the qualities that had become part of her new identity, Adagio felt complete. She wanted to savor every blink, every birdsong, every second of happiness. It didn't take long for the silent noise of the environment to be interrupted by her favorite sound, one that could calm any storm in her mind and heart.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" said Sunset, smiling on the pier and resting her head on her companion's shoulder. With the sweet tone her voice had developed, she added, "I'm so proud of you."

Adagio didn't need to resort to memories. Captivated by the surrounding landscape and the sound the breeze carried to her ears, she smiled a smile that conveyed the language of her soul and admired the dazzling eyes of her beloved.

"And I'm proud of you."

A hundred years had passed since they first set foot in Canterlot High, since the moment when the hope of returning to Equestria seemed attainable. The photograph of Sunset captured every aspect worth describing; to Adagio, she was the kind of person for whom it was worth facing the conflicts of that foggy past. She wiped away her tears and reconnected with the present.

The crowd's exclamation once again pierced the stage. Adagio returned the photo to the pocket of her backpack and stood up. The image of the woman reappeared in her mind, dazzling with that smile Adagio loved so much. It was nice to think of it that way, that no matter what one has to face or how many times one is exposed to weakness, there will always be a light that comes closer and shows the value of living as a human being. Enjoying the internal silence, she lifted her head and looked at the sky, the clouds, the beautiful light the weather had decided to give her to remember that wonderful day.

"Thank you, Sunset," she whispered.