Don't Fret, You'll Move On To Greener Pastures

by MarblePie

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Coloratura, Slice of Life, Death, Sad
Length: 6124

Coloratura meets a filly whilst on a mental break.

Coloratura is getting sick of the glitz and glamour of her lavish lifestyle.

She finds herself on a bench alongside a filly as they share their own thoughts and feelings.

***** ***** ***** *****

I'm HEAVILY breaking into new territory with this story. This will be my first story of the Sad genre, and that will come with a lot of things that you might find quite lacking.

Regardless, I hope you guys can find some form of value in this story.

Warning: I am an amateur writer.

Published 2024-07-16 22:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-07-16 22:30:00 UTC

Waiting.

Every day, I await for the next letter from you.

But,

Nothing ever comes.

Tell Me You'll Remember.

Author's Note

Hello everypony.

Before you read this, I just wanted to tell you again that this is my first ever sad story, there will be many things that you will find amiss, forced, or just plain nonsensical.

Any criticism/comment would help me immensely, thank you!

I hope you enjoy the read!

Tell Me You'll Remember.

Mascara, eyeshadow, makeup, dye and a veil.

Ponies were running wildly around me, taking care of every need and expectation before the show began. Directions, stage commands and frantic instructions were hurled left and right, creating a perfectly chaotic atmosphere.

Various sounds came from outside as the last bits of set-up were being concluded.

I took another look at the mirror and briefly exhaled, taking one last swipe at my eyelashes. It was a few weeks or so that the Equestria-wide tour had been going on.

Show by show, city by city, almost every second of my life that isn’t spent performing is converted into long trips in my metal hull. Being carried around like some sort of deity that rivaled the importance of the princesses. Well, I’m not called Countess Coloratura for nothing.

I always loved to perform. Being in front of the crowd, singing my heart out for the entirety of Equestria to hear. It was my way to express myself, and I’d been doing so even as a little filly.

I really wasn’t all for the glamor and exposure and flashiness that came with the job, but that was just something that was to be expected. It was included in the strict quota that Svengallop mandated with vehemence.

Somewhere between it all, my soul belonged in the awestruck eyes of my fans as they clamored in the audience. They belonged in the aspirations of colts and fillies who listened to my music, hoping that one day they’d be able to reach far and wide with their own artistic talents. That’s where the magic comes from for me.

But this was a career, a business, something that everyone eventually faces when they arrive in the industry. As much as I loathe the image that he imposed onto me, I am still grateful for all the opportunities that I receive as part of this job.

“Countess Coloratura, you’re set to be on stage in 3 minutes, and I can be assured that you’ll be ready to be spectacular, yes?” Svengallop asked, raising an eyebrow. I nodded. “The Spectacle” was the latest song that was produced for me, and every show since then, I’ve been requested by the crowd to do it multiple times after finishing my set.

I associate this image with no more than a simple alter-ego or ponysona, a sensation only seen on stage.

I’m just happy that I’m allowed a few hours of breathing time after the performance today.

Beams of light penetrated the curtains, the excited crowd chatting away outside. Audible murmurs rose as the lights were shut off, creating a pitch black stage. I set my hoof on the stairway, waiting for the cue.

Flashing lights illuminated the set, smoke crept in from the corners of the stage. I made my way down the stairs, saying lines as they came.

“Time for the spectacle,

Time for the show,

The lights are bright and the colors glow,

I’m not just anypony, I think you know,

The time is now. It's about to blow!”

Fire erupted from the stage, lights and lasers created a strobe effect as they were flipped on and off. A myriad of colors shone in front of my eyes. I’ll spare you the details. After finishing the rest of my songs, I went off-stage for a short while.

I looked back at my carriage, its height and stature towered over the smaller-set buildings in the distance.

I felt something strange.

Something that had built up every time I arrived at a new place, with the same entrance and with the same ritual of giving everypony empty hoofsies, having to do that fake laugh.

For lack of a better way to explain it, it just feels hollow. Even though most of the ponies attending my show would’ve been dying to receive one, a terrible ember of guilt still culminated within me.

Maybe that was what I had to give up in order to maintain my appearances. I hardly had any chances or time to make for my fans individually, much less on a genuine level that I could only dream of. It didn’t help that Svengallop had that tendency to turn or persuade me away from hosting events for my fans.

Demands piled up on me, I could feel eyes above peering at me, judging my every move. Although, when everything is said and done, what would it change? Any break of character and I’d no longer be the Countess Coloratura, I’d no longer be that icon that everyone looked up to. How would I maintain my sense of self if those around me started to drop me?

Sometimes I forget that I’m just another pony. Built up on a pedestal of false glamor and acclaim.

Where did the real me go?

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

I ventured into town, dragging my hooves alongside me as I took in the stillness of everything around me. The clouds in the sky were inching on forwards with the sluggishness of a snail, straggling ponies wandered around, preoccupied with their own thoughts and ideas. Eyes laid on me wherever I went, but only for a short while.

I took a seat near an isolated part of town, where the last buildings and road faded out into the flat plains. There was a lone bench besides a dirt path, shaded by an oak tree with overgrowth branching out near its legs. Paint peeled and chipped off of its surface, revealing the natural brown grain beneath. I sat down, my head hung low.

I clutched in my hooves a hayburger I’d bought earlier, dotted with specks of grease giving the wrapper paper a waxy feel. For minutes on end, I did the song and dance of putting the edges of the burger near my mouth and struggling to take even the smallest of nibbles. I was only allowed one very small meal per day, any more and I’m at risk of going over my weight criteria. The countess had to be perfect, no less.

Svengallop had a funny line he’d accompany with the rule: “If it doesn’t fit in this cup, you can’t eat it up.”

As with everything, indulgences that stray from the expectations come at the painful cost of immense shame. But, it was only in these moments that I felt like my shackles had finally been undone. I flicked my head backwards, letting the veil rest on top of my forehead. I swallowed my image first, then the itching in my mouth that I couldn’t quite get rid of.

I opened my mouth and clamped it shut on the burger, tears brimming around the edges of my eyes. There was a bounciness and warmth to the buns and patty, it felt like a long embrace that I never want to let go from. Better than those Eclairs I thought.

I took another bite.

And another.

I chewed and swallowed each bite slowly, savoring the flavors and juices from the patty and the fluffiness of the bun. There was an extra crisp added from the lettuce and a slight tanginess that came from the tomato slices.

Mascara-stained droplets flowed off of my chin and onto the bench. Somewhere inside of me, strings broke, my emotions boiled over in turmoil and I leaned backwards, sobbing with my mouth open. Like a mare with a tub of ice-cream, I let my vocal chords carry out my ugly emotions.

The Countess herself crying with a mouthful of a cheap hayburger from the local restaurants, what a joke. Hoofsteps approached closer towards me, somepony was trotting with an energetic pitter-patter.

I ceased my crying at once, suppressing it with a few hics there and there. Naturally, the attempt was futile because of the jet black mascara flowing down my cheek, but I couldn’t have just carried on like that. Wiping the last few tears from my eye allowed me to see who was standing in front of me.

There was a cream-colored filly wearing a puzzled expression, her hair a wispy white with streaks of bright orange. Standing there, wondering why some mare was crying with a full face of makeup and fully costumed. I tried to calm down over my sniffles.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” The filly asked, staring curiously at my stained face. Her head tilted to the side, as if she was trying to understand this outlandish behavior from an adult.

“Yeah, sorry you’re seeing me like this, I’ve just.. been feeling down a bit lately,” I smiled apologetically at the filly, fumbling for words in my mind. It wasn’t often that I could have a natural conversation that was unbound by some interview or pre-written script.

I found myself stuck, as many things that were on my mind, I wasn’t sure if I could properly compose myself around this filly who- by the sounds of it, was no older than 9-10 years old.

“That’s okay, everypony gets sad sometimes. My parents are really strong ponies but I still see them cry once in a while, it’s natural,” She offered a weak smile of her own. She climbed the bench, putting her hoof on my shoulder as her voice cracked a little towards the end. Her eyebrows furrowed a little as she seemed to be recalling certain events in her mind.

“Thanks,” I told her in a gentle voice. She was looking ahead of the road, tracking the occasional leaf that would depart from the branches of the trees and elegantly fluttered down towards the ground. Her mouth hung slightly open, I could see her mumble something in at an illegible volume. “Hey kid, you alright over there?” I nudged her slightly, her eyes widened for a bit and she snapped her head towards me before returning to her previous stance.

“I’m fine, just thinking about stuff,” She said, a tone of absence in her voice. Out of nowhere, she chuckled and spoke. “I like to sing, my classmates love it when I sing and the teachers call me a bright angel. Do you think I look like one?” There was a hint of playful skepticism in her question, she extended her arms and exchanged glances between her hoofs and my eyes. I chuckled, lifting a hoof to my chin. Mainly because of her demeanor, and partly because I’m being consoled by a random filly in a town that I did not even live in.

“I can’t know for sure, but your teachers might have a good point! By the way, what’s your name? You gotta introduce yourself properly, you know?” I nudged her arm, she had that twinkle in her eyes as she smiled, the one that you only see in fillies. “You said that you sang at school, you got any favorite songs or artists?” She rubbed her hooves together and shrugged, scratching her head.

“Oh, I’m Whipped Cream.. And I just sorta sing whatever melodies that come to my head, eheh.. It’s kind of embarrassing because the only time ponies see me sing is when I’m singing alone, but after I get caught I can’t just stop so I continue singing,” her cheeks lit up, contrasting against her cream colored coat. “You look like you’d be a singer yourself, especially with that long long hair,” she commented on my appearance. For a second there, I’d forgotten about my flashy get-up.

“Yup, in fact, many ponies would consider me a pop-star. Check it out,” I searched around in my pocket and pulled out a picture. I gave it to the filly and her eyes glowed with delight.

“Woah! This is so cool! There’s so many lights everywhere, when was this?” she said, bringing the picture closer to her eyes and picking out all of the elements. She traced her hoof on the photo, going over the individual beams of light.

“A couple days ago, you sure see that a lot when you’re performing. It looks great but eventually, it does get a little tiring. At least I get to close my eyes for a bit when I’m performing, makes it less straining on them,” Thin rays of sunlight permeated through tiny gaps in the oak tree’s leaves. It was like a spinning disco ball, but much more pleasant.

“Can I keep this?” She asked.

“Of course, I’ve got plenty more lying around, so no worries,” She nodded and pocketed the image, we both shared a moment of silence. She shifted around on the bench, a byproduct of the abundance of energy every filly has. Her eyes suddenly lit up,

“Ooh! You wanna hear a knock knock joke? I’ve got a good one,” She leaned closer towards me, a big grin across her face.

I entertained her, “Alright, hit me with it.”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Ponies go..”

“Ponies go who?”

“No silly, ponies go neigh!” She then demonstrated by getting on her hind hooves and neighing the best that she could. I facehoofed, my body shook up and down as I laughed silently.

“Alright, that was terrible, but you got me,” I told her, making a precursory glance around, “By the way, where are your parents? Are you allowed to go this far out?” I asked. A glum look appeared on her face in lieu of the vibrant grin that was just there earlier.

“My parents are very busy in the morning. Every day, I go to this bench while they are away. It’s nice, I can sit here and talk, and nopony would judge me. They don’t want me to be worried, but I worry, and when I worry, they get sad. But I don’t want them to be sad when they see me sad, so I go here and just sit it out. And I wouldn’t be saying this to somepony I just met but words and words just come out and you know, it happens.. Is that why you are here too?” Her eyes fixated on something in the distance as she spoke, they flicked over to me at the last second, asking me for my input.

“I guess so,” I said with a dry chuckle. The filly was right, while my reasons weren’t exactly the same as hers, it’s based on the same idea. It;s nice to be somewhere quiet that you can go to and unravel everything that was piling up inside of you. Somewhere that allows you to exist for a change of pace. Someplace. “I don’t know what came over me but, I left the stage area and got a hayburger and the next thing I know, I’m sitting on a bench talking to you,” I say, skipping over the details of the violent sobbing I did before she came along.

She nodded understandingly and pointed at the hayburger in my hand, “Is that hayburger good? I’ve never had one.”

“Sure is, pretty juicy,” I took another bite, it was still warm as before.

“It’s kind of funny like that, huh?” The filly spoke with much resignation. “Things happen for no reason at all,” She exhaled, but a smile still perked up on her face. “But hey, it got me here today, and it also got you here, and now I'm sitting next to a pop-star! I feel like it’s better that way, just to say that things happen because they do, because that’s just what it is, Chance,” a small leaf fell on her head and she shrugged as she brushed it off, as if to prove the point that she just made. She wore a look of contentment on her face, probably happy that she got to share such things with an adult who would understand her better.

“Hm, did your dad tell you that? Pretty philosophical words for a filly,” I bumped her on the shoulder.

She shook her head.

“Not really. I mean, ponies keep on telling me that I am very sick, but I don’t feel sick. I feel just the same as any other pony. But every time I go to the doctor pony for a check-up, he looks at me like there’s something on my face, and I know enough to see that whatever I have is very serious. Everypony has that look on their faces now, and all I can do is smile back and turn my head away,” she said, taking a deep breath, “A-and I don’t wanna feel like I did something wrong, because, what did I even do to get this disease? I see ponies who do bad things to other ponies and they seem to be fine and all, so it must be up to chance, I’m not a bad pony… right?” her voice cracked near the end, her body shivered slightly and her lips trembled, “I’m scared, Coloratura, I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future… my parents say that they’ll sort it out but I keep on going to appointments every other day and I stay there longer every time, there’s always something new…” She took a few more deep breaths, rubbing her own hoof.

“Hey hey, of course you’re not,” I reassured her, and she had laid her eyes on the ground again. She was on the verge of tears, it broke my heart when she looked up to me, a silent cry for help. I was stunned by the sudden wave of words and could only respond with what came first, “You said you were sick?” She nodded, her body shook.

“Y-yeah, I think it’s got to do with my blood? My parents took me a few months ago because I was having a lot of nosebleeds and I-I got a lot of fevers and when I got to the doctor and did all the checking stuff with the doctor my parents looked r-really scared. I asked what was wrong and the doctor said I had L-Leukemia and explained it’s something wrong with my blood cells,” she inhaled, “I know I shouldn’t say this b-but my parents are already stressed and I don’t wanna make them stressed, s-so I keep it inside and when I keep it inside I have to put it somewhere, but there’s nowhere to put it and you came along and I wanted to-”

I moved closer to her and wrapped my arms around her, resting my head on her shoulder and patting her back. She was completely silent for a short while, but latched back onto me and let out a cascade of tears that was held back by the toughest dam I’d ever seen. She dug herself into my mane and locked her hooves around my neck, standing on her hind hooves.

“I don’t- know- why- everything is- like- this,” She spoke through a volley of sniffles, her breathing pattern became more hectic by the second. “I- just wanted- to be- normal…”

“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay,” I repeated the phrase to her, there was a crescendo in her voice as her sobbing turned into long wails. Her tears ran down my coat like a stream down a mountain. Eventually, she broke away from the embrace, wiping the tears off of her red rimmed eyes.

She had the faintest smile on her face, her eyes were still wet from the tears.

“Thank you- hic- I feel a lot better,” She spoke quietly, a new spring in her voice. “It’s hard for me to tell these things to anyone, they either don’t know what to say or they just… don’t stop to listen. Thanks for listening to me, it means a lot,” She moved in for another hug and pulled back. Rustling around in her mane, she pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper and placed it on my hoof. I unraveled it, it was a bullet point list written in a filly’s hoofwriting. “...If you don’t mind,” She asked tentatively, a sheepish grin on her face.

It read:

List Of Things I Wanna Do Soon

Eat 3 muffins in one sitting

Drink a large chocolate milkshake

Take a walk by myself or with somepony into the forest

Laugh my hoof off

Kiss a colt

Before I could tease her about that last bullet point, she snatched the piece of paper in a moment of sudden realization and ripped that part clean off, crumpling it into a tiny ball and chucked it into a bin. She twiddled with her hooves and stammered her way into an excuse.

“That bullet point wasn’t supposed to be there! I wrote that part yesterday while I was sleepy a-and I didn’t think twice about it, that’s all!-”

“Don’t worry about it.” I gave her a cheeky wink and carried on before she exploded from embarrassment. “So, I take it that this is some sort of bucket list of yours?” I asked, the writing seemed fresh, there were graphite stains from the words making contact with some sort of surface.

She nodded, holding the piece of paper in her hooves, “Yeah, it’s not really like a bucket list or anything, just some stuff I wanted to do around town but haven’t gotten to. I kind of scribbled this down a few days ago and brought it here to read it over and over again. Did you know that we have a shop that specializes in muffins? I always ask my mom to go there and she says she’ll take me but she always forgets about it, it’s kind of funny,” she chuckled to herself.

“I’ll tell you what, we can do everything on your list tomorrow, I just have to finish up some errands with my manager. How about you meet me here again at the same time tomorrow, I’ll give you a little extra something as well, what do you say?” Her eyes beamed up with happiness and she jumped up and down, squealing.

“Of course! Thank you thank you thank you!” She grabbed my hoof and shuck it with such intensity that it caused my body to jerk a little forwards. I laughed afterwards, shaking my hoof to ease off some of the soreness. “So tomorrow at the same time?” She asked to reconfirm.

“Yep!” I replied, still sitting on the bench. She hopped off and trotted away, head held up high and with a grin so wide her teeth would glimmer in the sunlight. She turned around and waved at me, disappearing after she went around a curve that was obstructed by a building. Celestia, that poor little thing deserves so much better.

I leaned backwards and sighed. I couldn’t know for sure if my schedule would be free tomorrow, but everything should be fine. My performance was already said and done, and what is left is a grace period of a day. The filly was exceptionally resilient, despite everything that she was going through. To maintain a smile and good spirits whilst dealing with such confusing times when she’s still a filly, it’s something that even I could take a lesson or two from.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

As I lay on my bed, my mind flipped back and forth to my interactions earlier with the filly. Throughout all my years of traveling throughout Equestria and doing countless meet and greets with school-aged ponies, I’d never met someone like her.

It feels strange, having your problems be consoled by somepony that just… has it so much worse. Somewhere in her eyes, she had an unmistakable glimmer of sorrow, like somepony who is finally coming to terms with their situation, yet still doing everything they can to make the best of it.

I took off my veil and re-tied my hair, changing out my clothes and hoofbands for something more comfy, something more indicative of the real me. It was refreshing to see myself again in the mirror, the same part of me that I’d left behind all those years ago in Manehattan. I laughed, bobbing my hair a little and running my hoof over my coat.

I would probably look ridiculous to Svengallop but, does it matter?

I took a pencil and a piece of paper out of one of the drawers, I sprawled it out on a table and began to write a special message to the filly.

Dear Whipped Cream,

When I arrived at this town, I did not expect in the slightest that I would be meeting someone such as yourself. Your words captivated me, other times, they made me laugh, other times, they broke my heart. I know that there are many things out there that you wish to understand and I can attest to that, I sometimes harbor the same feelings.

I enjoyed the short time that I got to meet and get to know you better, if only for a little bit. I hoped that the short time we spent together made you feel better one way or another. I’m sorry that I could only be here for such a short time, life doesn’t stop for anypony it seems.

Although, I just wanted to tell you that you’re one of the bravest and strongest fillies I’ve ever met, that’s for sure.

There’s a lot of world for one pony, kid.

Signed with lots of love,

Your Rara.

P.S: You’re an angel, the brightest angel I’d ever seen.

I flicked off stray graphite off of the paper, wiping a stray tear clawing its way out of my eye. I folded the paper twice and stuffed it into my sweater’s pocket.

I’d have to leave her tomorrow, and I didn’t want to think about it.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

I was awoken by the rise of the morning sun.

I walked over to the mirror and combed my hair, tampering down the bird-nest that appeared overnight.

Stepping out of my room, I was met with a largely empty stage front. Ponies chatted idly as they sipped on their coffee, parts of the stage laid on the ground in the process of packing away everything. Carts were hauling away elements of the stage, meanwhile, every chair was stacked atop of each other and laid out in straight rows for easy packing. I rubbed my eyes and grabbed a cup of water, gulping it down in one go.

Although it wasn’t time to go, I still decided that I would visit the bench early. I trotted along the dirt path, my head a little heavy as the sleepiness hasn’t fully worn off yet. Clouds covered the sky, turning it into a canvas of calm blues. A very light wind brushed against my coat, bringing with it a very pleasant breeze that flowed through the strands of my hair.

When I arrived at the scene, I was surprised to see the filly already there, absentmindedly humming a little song as her hair flowed in the wind. Her eyes widened just as mine did as she saw me, and she cracked a smirk.

“Same idea huh? Can’t blame you, it’s really nice this time of day,” She ran her hoof through her hair and closed her eyes, taking in the coolness of the spring breeze. “C’mon, take a seat, we can sit here for a while, the shops aren’t open yet anyways, also, you look really different,” she raised her eyebrow at me, forcing a rise out of me.

“Just opted for a more comfortable outfit, I like the way this sweater looks on me,” I took the time to inhale and exhale as clearly as I can, the fresh air tunneling its way throughout my lungs, cooling me from within. She did the same, and we shared this moment of equilibrium for a long while, engrossed in nothing more than our own breathing. I felt like I was being carried away into a different dimension (of sleepiness) as I closed my eyes, but a hoof shook me out of it.

“You wanna go to the forest? We can talk there and enjoy the scenery at the same time,” she tugged at my hoof, urging me to go with her.

“Oh, right, let’s head out,” I stood up and stretched myself, yawning, “...But you’ll have to lead the way, I can hardly find my way around here,” She nodded and took my hoof, leading me to an outcropping in the distance. The plentitude of trees provided a large coverage of shading, a small dirt path winded through the forest line.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? I went here once with my parents, but I was much younger so I don’t remember much of what we did. I think I had a picnic somewhere around,” She added, surveying the areas around her and pointing to a random spot on the ground. “Nopony ever goes here, so everything is nice and untouched,” overgrowth and vegetation grew to knee length around the path, and beyond what I could see directly around me, it seemed like the forest was alive.

“Yeah, it really is,” she paused and snapped her head around, looking at a patch of ferns and other weeds.

“One day, if I were to die, I’d like to be buried here. Away from everypony, nurturing life of my own,” She trailed off, staring at a tree that towered over the rest of the others. I was at a loss of words, but I continued to walk. “Sorry, just a thought, I dunno why I said that,” she added blankly and joined me at my pace.

“Kid, I sometimes wonder what’s going on in that mind of yours, really,” I pat her hair, the nature of what she just said would already be concerning for anypony, much less a filly. She only chuckled and pushed my hoof off.

We trekked on for a while, stopping every now and then to take in the morning air. For most of the time, she seemed to be lost in thought, her rate of blinking slowed down immensely. I didn’t want to disrupt her flow, so I just let her be and kept a watch out for any critters that might be lurking around.

It was quite dark in the forest with all of the shade, and I was relieved to find that we were now nearing back where we started. A grumbling noise coming from next to me signified that somepony was also expecting to be headed elsewhere.

“Heh, I didn’t eat breakfast today…” The filly said, looking down at her own stomach.

“More room for those muffins and that milkshake! Alright, take me to that muffin shop you were talking about and I’ll treat you to some,” I looked around, she pointed towards a couple of buildings bunched up in the distance and before I knew it, we were on our way.

“What’s your favorite muffin flavor? I really like the blueberry ones, they’re much better than those raisin muffins,” She commented as we closed in on the shop in question, sticking her tongue out and making a “bleh” sound.

“I don’t really eat many muffins but.. I really liked the chocolate chip muffins I had that one time,” Numerous scents of different fruits, fragrance, and baked pastries hung in the air. I approached the vendor.

“Welcome! What can I do for ya’?” The vendor asked, leaning over the register.

“This filly here wants to order a couple of things,” she pressed her hooves against the glass, peering inside and salivating at all of the different options available.

“I’ll take 3 blueberry muffins and a chocolate milkshake please!” It came out as almost a squeal, I reached into my pocket and took out a hoof-full of bits.

“Sure can do! Your total comes out to 5 bits on the dot,” I handed over the bits from my hoof and took her over to a nearby seat. She bounced in her seat with a bright smile and checked off the rest of her list. I’m not one for maternal instincts, but I felt more fulfilled than ever taking care of that filly.

It was a simple form of happiness that I’d missed during my time on stage, the joy of indulging in simple matters. She immediately dug in when the food was brought out, my heart melted watching her stuff herself with so much joy in her eyes.

She pushed the plate of muffins my way, “Do you want some? They’re so good!” Crumbs lined her lips as she took gargantuan bites out of her muffin, well, gargantuan for a filly.

“Haha, I’m not hungry right now, you can have the rest of it. Plus, if I ate one, you wouldn’t be able to eat 3 muffins in one sitting, remember?” I pushed the plate back towards her, that filly sure had an appetite. She took a few sips of the milkshake and emptied the rest into her mouth, licking the innards of the glass clean. She leaned backwards in her chairs and rubbed her belly, letting out a long “Ahhh…” as she had her fill.

“Oh yeah, I forgot..” she looked away as she scratched her head.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked her, while we didn’t do the most special events today, it sounds like she was more than happy to be here.

“I. Feel. Awesome! Thanks again, Coloratura, you’re great,” she said, holding my hoof for a little bit.

“Please, you can call me Rara, Coloratura is more for official stuff, not for friends,” I told her whilst chuckling, “Besides, it’s a bit of a mouthful- even I prefer to refer to myself as Rara.”

“Rara it is then! I like the sound of that, I sometimes get called Whippy at school, it’s fun to say,” She mumbled her own nickname to herself a couple of times.

“Is that so?” I asked.

“Mhm!” She chuckled heartily, bringing a hoof to her chin.

For the bigger part of the morning, we just sat at the parlor and chatted idly. She told me that she had a sibling but he was off studying in Manehattan, and that he would come back home in a few years. Everything from her favorite hobbies (singing), to how she was expecting to go to another doctor’s appointment tomorrow. My neck itched and I crossed my hooves together, I didn’t want for this to end so soon.

“I got something to give to you,” I pulled out the same letter I wrote the previous night and gave it to her. There was a weight upon my chest as she opened the letter and scanned its contents. It pained me as her bright smile turned into that of suppressed sadness.

“...You’re leaving?” She asked, her eyes still glued on the paper. A droplet or two landed upon the surface, staining the paper and causing the ink to spread. I rushed over to pick her up, wiping away her tears with my hooves.

“I’m sorry, I truly am, but I have to be out of here by the end of today. I didn't want to tell you yesterday otherwise you'd be sad, I'm sorry,” she tried to hold back her tears and nodded, freeing herself from my grasp and landing on the ground.

“When will I get to see you again?” Each question was more painful than the last. I found myself choking on words as well.

“I.. I don’t know, but please write to me, I’ll respond, that’s something I can promise,” I extended my hoof to her, she hesitated before holding mine, her grip strengthened with every passing second. “Be strong, okay? Be good as well, I believe in you,” Her lips trembled and she contorted her face into one of anguish. I felt like my heart was being ripped clean out of my chest.

Her eyes were caked in tears but she was unwilling to let them escape, demonstrating to me a last moment of strongness before we’d have to part our ways. I brushed her hair with my hoof, patting her back with the other. At this point, she was a nearly incoherent mess, and I could feel myself becoming one too. Yet, she managed the strength to squeeze out one last question.

“W-will you… remember me?” It took every last ounce of myself to not break down right then and there, but I forced a smile to appear on my face.

“I will.”