Some people enjoyed seeing other people struggle. The struggle might be caused by a lack of know-how, or when they tackled something too difficult for them. Whatever the battle was, Twilight assumed that the watchers just enjoyed feeling smarter than the person they watched, but she couldn’t understand the satisfaction, hence why she never kept watching someone who struggled.
However, today was different. It wasn’t any kind of satisfaction, nor had she any schadenfreude watching the struggle. It was an honest fascination.
From the very first day Twilight had switched to Canterlot High School, she had perceived Trixie to be a striking case. However, it was the girl’s obnoxious behaviour rather than any valuable trait that made her unignorable. Twilight learned quickly that to make her go away, one just had to nod to whatever she said—if the nodding was even necessary, as Trixie never acknowledged it anyway.
But today, she just couldn’t walk past her. Trixie stood before a vending machine, shouting and cursing it to let her “precious snack” free. She shook it, she beat the glass, she had even bought the same product twice—or thrice, from the looks of it—in the hope of making the stuck package fall, but nothing helped.
The moment the sight became interesting for Twilight was when Trixie stared at the package and waved her fingers in the air.
“The Great and Hungry Trixie commands thee, voracious beast, to let go of what belongs to her!”
Since nothing happened, Trixie raised her right knee and balanced herself on one foot for a whole minute, waving and moving her body as if she cast a spell.
“Thou didn’t hear me? Let my precious peanut butter crackers go, or the Great and Powerful Trixie shall pull more tricks from up her sleeves!”
As expected, nothing happened.
“You asked for it.”
Trixie glanced to the sides—Twilight wasn’t sure why, as she got ignored—before she pulled a marker and wrote on a price tag.
“Bottle of water, now half the price,” Trixie said in a serious tone. “Drop her peanut butter crackers, or Trixie will lower the other prices too!”
Trixie must have been acting. She had to. She couldn’t mean that seriously. But Twilight couldn’t find the slightest hint that Trixie didn’t mean it seriously.
“Still keeping them from her?” Trixie asked, then wrote on another price tag. “Orange juice, now only 50 cents! How will you make money now?”
At that point, Twilight should’ve stepped in and helped her. It would be easy with her telekinesis, but she was just too awestruck by Trixie’s threats.
“Trixie sees you’re a tough sell,” Trixie said, throwing her pen behind her. “But don’t you think the Great and Brilliant Trixie is out of ideas!”
She stared into the cabinet, crossing her arms as she squinted her eyes.
Then she put her arms around the machine and shook it once again.
“Let them go!” she screamed. “I paid for them! They’re mine! Mine!”
At last, a more normal reaction. As fascinating as the sight before her was, Twilight had to intervene. What else would Trixie come up with? She didn’t want to find out.
“Trixie…”
“Please!” Trixie cried, ignoring Twilight. “Release them, you stupid robot! I didn’t eat this morning! I will starve to death!”
“You know I could—”
“I will do anything you want!”
Twilight groaned. Due to Trixie shaking the vending machine, she couldn’t see the stuck products clearly, making her attempt to help more difficult than necessary.
“Just step to the side so I can—”
“You want a kiss from Trixie? You want to date her?”
That went too far—even further than before. At that point, it didn’t matter that she got the stuck products as long as she got any. What was it again? Peanut butter crackers, right.
Twilight raised her hands and concentrated on the right cell.
“Trixie promises she will marry you!”
Got them. With a single push, the peanut butter crackers that Trixie craved so much fell.
“Here you go,” Twilight said, then glanced at her watch. Too late for her next class!
“You're welcome,” she added, without waiting for any thank yous from Trixie.
During the lunch break, Twilight had passed Trixie and couldn’t not notice her. Her makeup was smeared with black lines that could’ve only come from tears, and her usual proud posture was bent and lowered. What happened? Why was Trixie like that?
Twilight didn’t know how to react. Should she ask her? Ignore her? They were just classmates, after all, nothing more.
But the vending machine incident made her curious, and there was a sneaking suspicion that it was the reason Trixie was like that.
“Trixie?” Twilight asked, sitting next to her. “Did something happen to you?”
Trixie raised her head, giving a short glance, before lowering it again. “Trixie’s life is ruined.”
“What?”
“Trixie said her life is ruined!”
Twilight groaned. How was Trixie even in that state, so… in need of patience? “How did you ruin your life?”
“Her dreams of becoming a famous stage magician are gone. She shall forever remain a boring spouse.”
Spouse? As confusing as it sounded, Twilight feared she knew where Trixie was going. But if her thought was true, then it meant—
“Trixie is going to get married in two weeks.”
Twilight closed her eyes. Trixie was messing with her. She had to. There was no way she meant it seriously.
“To whom?” Twilight asked, despite knowing the answer.
“To the school’s vending machine.”
Twilight dared to open her eyes and took a close look at Trixie’s face. She searched for anything, the smallest detail that might reveal Trixie was joking. But she couldn’t.
Trixie broke into tears and sobbed.
“Trixie can’t be a stage magician as a wife!” Trixie continued. “Not to a vending machine! Everyone would make fun of her!”
“You know you don’t have to marry it, don’t you?” Twilight asked. At that point, she was willing to get laughed at for falling for a prank just for the convincing theatre to stop.
“She can’t. She promised it! For a mere three packages of peanut butter crackers!” She grabbed a cracker and took a bite. “At least they’re good.”
“It’s an inanimate object!” Twilight countered, then took a deep breath to calm down. She shouldn’t lose her cool because of that.
“No, Twilight,” Trixie replied, sighing. “Trixie has known the vending machine for years, and so has it known her. It was always thrilled to see her, and did everything to make her stay around as long as possible. It got feelings for her, and it finally found a way to blackmail Trixie to marry her.”
Twilight pulled on her hair, suppressing her wish to scream out her frustration. She never considered other people stupid. It had always been a lack of interest. Twilight just happened to be interested in knowledge, but other people had their interests where they were brilliant.
But Trixie?
It wasn’t just stupidity. It was idiotism!
“I was me!” Twilight yelled, grabbing Trixie by her shoulders and shaking her. “I made them fall!”
“Don’t lie to me!” Trixie pushed her away. “You weren’t even close!”
“I have telekinesis!” Twilight touched the crystal on her necklace and made her trail float. “See?”
“It wasn’t you,” Trixie said, crossing her arms. “There was a window between them and you.”
“As long as I can see it, I can—”
Trixie beat her fist on the table. “Trixie doesn’t need your lies!” She beat the table a second time. “She knows you want to stop Trixie from marrying a vending machine. But Trixie promised it! She won’t break a promise she made!”
“But I did it!”
“Liar!”
Stubbornness. Why were stupid people always so stubborn? Twilight’s frustration had evolved into a blind rage. She had to stop Trixie and free her from her madness.
“Follow me!”
“No!”
“I wasn’t asking.”
Twilight touched her crystal once again, that time making Trixie float after her to the vending machine. She didn’t care that every other student was staring at them. No one was stopping her anyway or complaining about her action—well, no one beside Trixie, who screamed to let her go.
Once at her goal, she let Trixie go, who immediately turned around to run away. But Twilight pulled her back with her telekinesis.
“Watch,” Twilight said, releasing Trixie and letting a peanut butter cracker package fall.
Trixie was about to run away, but she stopped when she heard the noise from the fallen package, staring with wide eyes at the vitrine.
“What just happened?”
“I let one package fall,” Twilight explained. “With my magic.”
“Trixie didn’t see it.”
Twilight groaned. “Maybe if you would look at me for once? I touch my crystal, raise my hand”—She made sure to perform each step slowly—” and with a single finger movement, I let them fall.”
Another package fell, and, that time, Trixie saw it right before her eyes. She should finally accept that it was Twilight. There was no way her stubbornness would make her so blind and still stick to her sentient vending machine theory.
At least, her silent stare seemed to indicate that Trixie finally realised it.
“See?” Twilight added. “It was me all along. You don’t need to marry it, because it never gave you them.”
Trixie slowly neared the machine. “It was you?”
Twilight nodded. “Yes. As I just demonstrated.”
“Trixie doesn’t have to marry the vending machine?”
“You don’t.”
“My future…” Her lips raised to a wide smile.
“Yes, Trixie, your dream of becoming a famous stage magician—”
Trixie grabbed the fallen packages under the cap and, before Twilight could react in any way, disappeared behind a corner. “Thanks for the donation!”
The hallway filled with silence. Twilight stood frozen, blinking in disbelief.
She had been the fool all along.
And yet, once Twilight realised that, she laughed in relief.
Well played, Trixie. Well played.
