With the incoming snowstorm that did not mean that the entire city itself was fully closed down. Deep beneath the skyline, shadowed by the great buildings of years past displaying the city’s pride for all to see, the small businesses were still in operation. Light poles decorated with wreaths shifted from the hooks in the wind, turning around and back again. Snow blew from the rooftops down below, causing a variety of trouble for the poor cab drivers.

At least it gave an excuse for putting up the jingle bells.

Regardless, all citizens below knew of the scheduled time of the storm and were thus prepared accordingly.

…most of them anyway. The outlier belonged to Rarity’s Boutique, a chain from the one from her home in Ponyville and the one in Canterlot. Normally by now, the manager and sole designer would have closed up already.

Out of town tourists, after all, were normally not privy to Manehatten’s annual blizzard. Pistachio, the young aspiring fashion designer from Nowhere, knew of the upcoming blizzard, and this anxiety was unintentionally giving Coco a difficult time.

“Please hold still now.”

“I’m sorry! I’m anxious! This is my first time.”

“I totally understand. That’s why I need you to hold still, please.”

“You usually make dresses for Hearth’s Warming?”

“Oh, yes. You should have seen the line earlier, it nearly stretched outside and around the block.”

Coco carefully fitted the final adjustments for Pistachio’s dress. It took a bit longer than she thought to get his measurements—longer still to cross-reference them when designing the final piece—but eventually she got into a groove and was nearing completion. She was nearly bled dry of her blue and white checkered fabric, but that was future-Coco’s problem.

“Thankfully, the appointment system has kept me on track in time for the storm.”

Pistachio gulped. “Oh no, I’m not keeping you too late, am I?”

“Oh no, don’t worry. In fact…” She hummed to herself, then spun around and presented the finished product in a theatrical fashion. “What do you think?”

The young adult stallion beamed with pride. Carefully, he took it into his hooves, feeling the fabric up and down, a warm smile growing onto his muzzle. Coco smiled affectionately. It was like watching a foal in a candy store.

“Well, try it on,” she gently urged.

The stallion shot off like a rocket and emerged just as fast. He looked very pretty in the blue checkered dress, and if it were not for the teal-blue stetson and square muzzle he would have been mistaken for a mare. He spun around, admiring his view in the mirror.

“It’s beautiful!” he beamed. “Absolutely beautiful! You really knocked it out of the park, Miss Pommel! Blue as the bright blue sky! I especially love how it compliments my hat!”

Coco smiled at the compliment. “Well, you’re welcome. It was my pleasure.”

Pistachio returned it. “Miss Rarity chooses her proteges well.”

“Oh? You know Rarity?”

They continued the conversation as they left the dressing room to the front counter, with Coco tidying up to close shop in time.

“Know her?! Why, she’s my idol! My hero! She’s the reason I discovered my passion for fashion! Hey, I should write that down. ‘Passion for fashion’, that’s a good trademark.”

The fashion-mare giggled. “If I know fashion as well as I do, a catchy tagline is sure to attract customers.”

The pair then entered the lobby. Pistachio passed some bits to Coco, who cashed them in the register. Finally, both took great care folding the dress into one of the few remaining bags. Pistachio walked out the entrance, slightly taken aback at the sudden rush of the frigid air. He gripped onto his hat from the slight wind whilst being bitten all over as if they were little knives. The bag swayed greatly in the wind. Careful to keep his balance, he struggled to keep a grip on both of his now prized possessions.

After a split second it went away as quickly as it came, leaving the country stallion perplexed and rather nervous.

Coco soon arrived outside next to him, locking up the main entrance. “You’re still here?”

“Well, I got a bit blindsided by the cold air,” the stallion replied, slightly shivering.

The mare nodded. “Yep. That’s the first sign of the annual Manehatten snowstorm.”

Pistachio gulped. “It’s not gonna…ya know…suddenly appear, right?”

Sensing his worries, Coco patted his back reassuringly. “Oh, no, don't worry. It’s on a schedule every year. Right about now is when temperatures gradually drop…” She paused, fitting on a little hat, earmuffs and a cyan scarf. “Wind chill isn’t as bad this year. The next phase doesn’t happen until later tonight.”

“Oh, good.” The country stallion sighed relieved, his breath clouding in front of his muzzle. “I was hoping to stroll around downtown before hitting the hay.” He snickered. “Get it? Hitting the hay?”

Coc could not hold in her laughter any moment longer, which was promptly joined in by her new companion. After that little fit, she took the role of tour guide, leading them both down the sidewalk.

Tinsel and wreaths decorated the street lamps underneath the fairy lights wrapped around the front door canopies of the magnificent skyscrapers. They swayed in the breeze to the prelude of a symphony. Thankfully, the sidewalks were salted and cleared of snow and ice, which was a godsend for Pistachio. The giddy stallion pranced around like he was in a meadow peering into all the window dressings, his elation growing with each successive view. Coco could not keep the smile off her muzzle if she tried watching him like a foal in a candy store, or in his case a fashion store.

“This is so awesome! Look at all the cool clothes! They match the displays seamlessly!” He chuckled. “Aw, that was terrible.”

Coco laughed in reply. “No, that was a good one.”

“Thanks, but…I can already tell my sense of humor’s not gonna get me very far.”

“Well, I like your sense of humor. If anything, I’m glad you have one.”

“I…I guess. I mean more like…when I’m working with a cus—client, you know? What if…” He sighed, frowning and lightly stroking the shopping bag and resetting his hat.

“Is something wrong?”

“I uh…I don’t know if you would want to hear my problems, Miss Pommel. Or if this is the best place to be.”

“I’m a good listener.” She got an idea. “Actually, I know the best place. Follow me.”

“Are you sure? But what about the storm?”

“We have plenty of time. Besides, you don’t want to miss the big famous Hearth’s Warming tree at the ice rink?”

Pistachio lit up just like a tree itself. “Yes, yes, yes! Can we?!”

“Follow me!”

The stallion practically pranced in place before walking in pace with Coco. The pair walked through the falling snow until they reached a ring of massive buildings surrounding a small square with a handful of benches. In the center was the most massive tree Pistachio had ever laid eyes upon. Appearing to be three stories high and decorated with more lights and ornaments than he had ever seen in his entire home back on the farm. Beneath it was the world famous ice rink, though it was void of the famous image of skating ponies.

“I kinda expected more ponies to be here,” Pistachio said. “Probably batching down the hatches before the storm.”

“Yeah, probably,” Coco replied.

“Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

The mare smiled, shrugging. “We’re gonna be cutting it close. Also my apartment’s not to0 far from here. And really, this is your last chance to see a Manehatten Hearth’s Warming in its fullest. I heard the storm’s gonna be pretty bad this year.”

“Oh.” Pistachio sighed. “That means I probably won’t be able to see my family.”

He felt a soft touch on the shoulder. He looked up to see Coco’s kind smile. “I’m sorry to hear that. You can stay at my place in the meantime, if you don’t have a hotel room, that is.”

“Oh, Miss Pommel, I-I don’t want to intrude…w-well, I was just visiting. I was hoping to catch the midnight train, but I guess that’s off the table now.”

Coco became more determined at that. “Then I insist on you staying with me, at least until the roads and rails are cleared.” Pistachio nearly spoke, but Coco beat him. “No…no, there’s plenty of room to stay. You shouldn’t have to spend Hearth’s Warming alone because of some unforeseen circumstances.”

The act of kindness nearly brought tears to the stallion’s eyes, who hugged his bag more tightly. “Thank…thank you kindly, Miss Pommel.”

“Please…call me Coco. All my friends do.”

“Well then…you may call me Pistachio, Coco.”

Coco grinned, which slightly faded. Her new friend sighed sadly. “Because we’re friends, and friends of Miss Rarity…may I ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“How…how do you manage to not lose yourself in your work? Like…I really love fashion. But I worry that I’ll have to lose myself if I want to succeed. Will I become so engrossed that my passion turns into an obsession? Or will ponies not like my background and I’ll need to cater to them? You understand, right?”

Coco nodded. She understood the conundrum perfectly, having experienced first-hoof the negative consequences of losing yourself for the sake of your professional career. Pistachio was that same bright-eyed pony she knew all those years ago when she first got started, then watched morosely as she slipped away little by little until there was almost not even a tiny flicker.

Then came along Rarity, who fueled that spark to ignite a fire that engulfed all of Manehatten. Now the circle had come around in full again. A young bright eyed upcomer had now met the experienced learner. The apprentice was placed in the role of teacher.

“You’re worried that you’ll lose yourself in your craft?” Coco replied.

“Yeah,” Pistachio numbly nodded. “I mean…you can’t get anywhere without sacrifice, right?”

“That’s true…but there comes a point where you must realize that you need to do something for yourself. Pandering to the crowd never works. Ponies want to see you for you.”

“But what if they don’t like me?”

“If they don’t like you, then that’s their problem. Rarity taught me that a fashioner’s success came from offering something new and fresh that only you can make.”

Pistachio listened intently, nodding with eyes focused on his new friend’s words. “Wow. Fashion’s a lot more complicated than I thought. But what about those stories that you hear of ponies stealing and copying designs of others just to get rich?”

Coco ruefully smiled. Painful memories resurfaced, yet years of rumination had subsided the agony. “Yeah, there’s always going to be that one pony with a get-rich-quick scheme. But here’s the thing: fashion’s an ever changing industry. The same trick’s not gonna work twice.”

The stallion grinned at that. “Oh, I got plenty of ideas to get me through the seasons. At least two notebooks worth! And it’s not just for ponies! I’ve got designs for griffons, changelings, dragons, you name it!”

“That’s great! It shows how much passion you really have. And ponies want to see that passion. Take inspiration from others, but the most important thing is to stick to yourself, to your identity.”

“Is it generally a good idea to chase trends?”

“Well…it depends on what the trend is. If you have something new to offer, then go ahead.”

“How will I know if I accidentally copy somepony else’s design?”

Coco nodded, slightly smiling. “There’s always a possibility that might happen. The trick is to be able to pick yourself up and improvise, even if you make a mistake.”

Pistachio rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll…probably make a ton of mistakes.”

Coco patted his shoulder. “There’s no shame in making mistakes. It’s how you improve.”

“You’re right. You learn from failure, not success.”

“And I’ll help you every step of the way.”

Pistachio had to do a double take at that, nearly falling off his seat had Coco not immediately caught him. “Woah! Uh, I’m sorry that I gave you a little shock. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. But, Coco, you…you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. That’s what friends do.”

“But…you’re practically offering to be my mentor!”

Coco giggled, dropping the smile into a nervous frown. “I-I mean, if you want me to—”

Suddenly, she was ripped from her seat and spun around in the air in the hooves of a young elated stallion. “Yes! Thank you, Coco!” He put her down. “Sorry, I got a little carried away there. I’d be honored for you to be my mentor.”

Warmly smiling, she gave her new student a hug. For Pistachio, his heart and stomach were jumping around like peas in a frying pan. First, he got a beautiful looking dress. Then, he made a new friend. And finally, that new friend became his fashion mentor. And all on Hearth’s Warming Eve in the center of Manehatten, right in the shadow of the grandiose center square tree.

Seconds later, the wind picked up drastically. Biting again like kitchen knives, and even causing the grand tree to violently sway in the wind. Miraculously, none of the light fixtures were flying off in the gale-like force.

“It’s earlier than expected!” Coco shouted. “The storm’s picking up!”

Pistachio clung to his hat and bag. “I gotta get to the train station!”

“Come on!”

Fighting against the wind, the pair galloped across the street to the nearest cabbie. “Can you take me to the train station quickly?” Pistachio asked.

“Ya crazy or somethin’, kid?” the cabbie scoffed. “I just got back from the train station! The last train left ten minutes to beat the storm!”

The stallion went as pale-white as the blowing snow. “What?!”

“And I certainly as Tartarus ain’t goin’ out there again! I'm droppin' off my cab and hunkerin' down.” Without another word, the cabbie galloped away and disappeared into the blowing snow.

“What am I going to do now?!” Pistachio despaired.

“Don’t worry!” Coco cried in reply. “My apartment’s not far from here! I can get us there even with all this wind! Just hold on tight and follow me!”

One hoof holding his bag and hat and the other holding tightly to Coco’s hoof, Pistachio followed behind his friend through the Manehatten blizzard gale. Against the increasing force, the walk was legitimately painfully slow, especially since it was blowing in their faces. Twice, he nearly lost grip of his belongings and of Coco.

At last, both reach the shelter of the lobby of the apartment complex. Shivering to no end, they shook off the snow right on the lobby carpet.

“Phew! That was a lot!” Pistachio remarked. “What’re we doing here?”

“Well, you can stay with me until the storm blows over,” Coco replied. “The trains should be up and running by tomorrow. Sorry our night out was interrupted.”

“Nuts to that. Despite the storm, I made a new friend with an awesome beautiful new dress. The same mare who offered to mentor me.” The stallion hugged her again. “Thanks again, Coco. I’m glad you’re my friend and I can’t wait to learn from you.”

For half a moment, the mare froze with dread. Past memories of mistakes flashed by in the blink of a microsecond, haunting her. But soon Rarity appeared in them, and the dread washed away. She could see the happiness and admiration on the white unicorn mare whenever she mentored Coco. Someone who helped her back onto her hooves and guided her to becoming the better pony than she ever was all those years ago.

In the present moment, her soul was filled with joy. She hugged the young stallion back. “You’re welcome, Pistachio. I can’t wait either.”

Author's Note

Merry Christmas, and whatever other holiday you celebrate!