For the most part, making friends has been nothing but positive for me, but there are some drawbacks.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t longing for the days before the girls were willing to be in a room with me, but even a good change can take a while to get used to. I don’t like being lonely, but I do like being alone. And for a while after the Fall Formal, I rarely ever got to be. Between trying to keep my grades up while also making enough money to pay for all the damages I did to the school—conditions set by Principal Celestia after the whole incident—I rarely ever got a moment to myself. It was class, work, sleep, repeat.

Thankfully, my punishment was suspended, and that meant I wasn’t working myself to death anymore. That meant I finally had that sweet decompression time I’d been longing for.

Or, at least that’s what I thought it meant. I was starting to realize that my alone time was only a temporary vacuum, and now that I had friends, they would shove themselves right into that free space.

Maybe it’s not fair to put it that way. After all, no one was forcing me to do anything. Most of the time, they ask me really nicely. And while I appreciated that, it felt unfair.

When you’re friends with someone, it’s suddenly a lot harder to say no to certain things. In my case, it was even more difficult because of the history I had with the girls. Even if we all wanted to move on from the Fall Formal, it’s not like we could just forget about it. Outside of it being the biggest event of our lives so far, it’s also the thing that ultimately brought us all together. Everything we do and say to each other is underlined by what happened before and during that night.

Then again, it’s not like they ask nicely all the time. One time, Rainbow Dash invited me over to her house. Within the first twenty minutes of being there, she continually dropped hints about how her room needed to be cleaned, but that she didn’t know where to start. She was clearly taking advantage of our situation to make me clean her room.

And I’m not proud to admit I did.

So, when Rarity asked me to come over to her place sometime that week, it was already hard to find a reason to refuse. When she told me it was so she could repair my favorite jacket, it became impossible. And, honestly, it would be kind of stupid to say no. Why would I?

At our last sleepover, the first thing Rarity said to me wasn’t hi, it wasn’t ‘how are you,’ or anything like that. No, it was a comment about how ‘ratty’ my leather jacket was. And while it had definitely seen some wear and tear (mostly thanks to getting cratered at the Fall Formal), it held up surprisingly well in spite of that. There were a few threads hanging at the sleeves, and a couple rips at the bottom hem, but it looked fine. Besides, there was probably no way I could pay her to do it.

Leaning on my lack of funds, I used that as an excuse to decline. Of course, then Rarity told me she’d do it for free. She wanted to do me a favor so badly, and all she asked me to do in return was show up at a certain time after school. Plus, Rarity and I hadn’t ever had a chance to hang out alone; at least if you don’t count that short encounter at the mall. In the end, there was no way I could say no without looking like a jerk.

Standing at her door, I groaned. Knocking a second time, I could hear her voice muffled on the other side, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. Even if the sounds of the nearby city streets weren’t drowning her out, she sounded too far away to be intelligible.

I checked the time on my phone. It was a couple minutes after the hour. She said to show up at four and promised this wouldn’t take longer than half an hour, but she’d already burned up two of those allotted minutes. If she was going to have me show up at a specific time like this, the least she could do is not lock me out.

Suddenly, the door swung open, but it wasn’t Rarity. It was some woman with long blue hair wearing a honey-colored sweater.

For the first time, I could clearly hear Rarity. “Thanks again for your commission! I can already tell you’re going to love my idea!”

“We’ll see about that!” the woman said before walking by me like I didn’t exist.

Rather than do the smart thing and enter Rarity’s house, I sat there and stared at her as she walked away. My attention was suddenly broken by a slam behind me. Then I just stood there wondering what to do. When I tried to turn the knob earlier, it was locked, and I didn’t want to try again. If it was still locked, I would look stupid, like a weirdo trying to enter a house I don’t own. Still, standing out here for this long by myself was probably starting to look even weirder.

Glancing side to side, I reached for the knob again. When I tried to turn it, it didn’t budge. This was getting irritating, and it was getting hard not to show it. The only thing worse than looking stupid in public is looking angry and stupid.

If Rarity had opened the door one second later, I might have accidentally knocked on her forehead. She looked stunned, no doubt by the fact that my fist was the first thing she saw upon opening the door.

“About time,” I tried to say playfully.

Rarity continued to stare for a moment. “Sunset, did you not hear me say come in?”

“Was I supposed to have a key?” I answered.

Another uncomfortable moment of staring. “What?”

“The door was locked.”

“It was not.”

“I literally just tried to open it and the knob wouldn’t turn.”

“Oh, goodness, that’s right.” Rarity grabbed the knob with a white(r)-knuckle grip, and turned it. “It feels a little stuck, but you’ve just got to give it a little elbow grease. It helps to pull it underhanded, too.”

Suddenly, I felt even more embarrassed about turning the knob twice. I really hoped she didn’t hear that.

“I do apologize for the confusion. I’ve asked mother and father to get it replaced, but they’re seldom around. Anyway, do come in.”

I trailed behind Rarity as she led the way inside. “Why don’t you have a sign on the door or something? That has to happen a lot, right?”

“Mmm? Not really, no. Everyone usually figures it out on their own.”

I wasn’t mad anymore, but I felt more stupid than I’d ever thought possible.

Rarity didn’t seem to notice. “Anyway, do make yourself at home. I’m going to run upstairs and fetch a few things. I’ll try to be quick!”

Looking around Rarity’s living room/shop-front room, I couldn’t help but remember the last time I was here. So many things happened that night, but for the moment, all I could fixate on was the couch I tripped and ate shit on. My eyes narrowed on it, as if it was possible to intimidate an inanimate object.

“Alright, darling. If you’ll step up onto that pedestal for me, I’ll assess the superficial damages first. Then I’ll have you take it off so I can get a more detailed look.”

The pedestal itself sat in front of a half-circle of mirrors, each one angled a little differently. When I stepped up, I was startled by my five reflections staring back at me.

“Now, turn and face me,” she said from behind.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Rarity circled me with a notepad and pen in her hands. At intervals, she’d stop, look closely at something on the jacket, and then jot down her observations. At least, that’s what I assumed they were. When I caught a glimpse of her notes, I raised an eyebrow.

“How can you read that?”

Rarity squinted at my left sleeve. “What? My notes?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “That looks worse than when I was first learning to write.”

I winced as Rarity shot me a deadpan glare. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and went back to looking over my jacket meticulously.

“I’m taking quick notes, darling. It doesn’t have to be legible to anyone but me, because I’m the only one who needs to read them. I take my time on most things, but I’m efficient where I can be.”

I nodded, decidedly shutting my mouth until the next time I was spoken to. Thinking before speaking is the opposite of riding a bike: I always forget.

Rarity took one last look over her notes before flipping her book closed.

“So, thankfully, I have all the materials I need to repair the outside, but it might take me a little longer than expected. I won’t know how much longer until I see it more closely.”

The fact that she gave an even longer estimate was kind of irritating, but I tried my best not to show it. With a frustrated sigh, I pulled my jacket off and handed it to her.

“Before I give it a closer look, would you indulge me?”

This time, I couldn’t help but let out an annoyed sigh. “What?” I asked.

“I understand, I know I’m asking for even more of your time, but I promise you’ll love this idea.”

“Okay, then tell me already.”

“If you’ll allow me to take your measurements, I can make you a new leather jacket! One that’s tailored to your measurements and exact specifications.”

That sounded nice, but I was immediately skeptical.

“Like, entirely custom made?”

She nodded. “With any colors, patterns, and accessories you can think of. Within reason, of course.”

I couldn’t help but start laughing.

“Rarity, there is no way I could pay to commission you on the money I make.”

“Pardon?” she replied. “Who said anything about a commission, darling? This would be a gift.”

“A gift?” I repeated.

She nodded.

“For what?”

Rarity looked stunned by my question. “…Because you’re my friend?”

“No, I mean, like, what’s the occasion?”

“Sunset, there doesn’t need to be an occasion for me to want to give you something.”

“Sure, but why me of all people?”

“Did you not hear me when I said you’re my friend?”

“No, that’s not what I mean, it’s just–”

When I felt Rarity’s hand on my shoulder, my brain reset.

“Do you mind if I take a guess?”

I nodded.

“You think that because of everything that’s happened between us, that I shouldn’t afford you the same kindness I would to any of my other friends. Is that right?”

Suddenly, it felt like a spotlight was on me. I almost tried to put my hands in my jacket pockets on instinct. Having it laid out like that was immensely embarrassing, but I was caught. She was right.

“I don’t know,” I lied.

“Well, if that is the case, I can understand why you’d think that. But you and I are friends now, and that means I’m going to treat you like I would any of them. I know our history makes things a little… tricky, shall we say? But the only way we’re ever going to get over that is if we stop treating each other like it just happened.”

“But it did just happen,” I argued. “We’re still in the same grade we were in when it happened.”

“And? It was still nearly six months ago,” she argued. “That was in the middle of last semester, and we’re halfway through the next one. That’s nearly two entire seasons worth of time. Yes, the Fall Formal will always remain a pivotal moment in our lives, but that doesn’t mean it has to overshadow every other moment from now on. I’m ready to move on from that chapter of my life, and I believe you are too, are you not?”

At first, I couldn’t muster any response to that. The Formal was still so fresh in my mind, but Rarity was right. It had been almost half a year since it happened. That’s a lot more time than it felt like.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I finally said. “Are you sure you want to go through all that effort, though? I mean, you have clients who are paying you, so I would just be eating up your time for nothing, and you–”

“Sunset.” Her voice cut right through mine. “Just let me do something nice for you, would you?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the pleading smile on Rarity’s face made it hard to want to argue.

“Fine, you win.”

“That’s more like it.” Her grin became a smirk. “As we spend more time together, you’ll find that’s almost always the case.”

“I’m not sure if I believe that,” I remarked. “The last time you told me something like that, it was about how you’re never wrong, and we both know how that went.”

“Yes, well, let’s continue to never speak of that again, shall we?”

Even though I was the one that brought that up, I conceded. That was a conversation we’d have years later, when both of us were too old to feel embarrassed by it.

I may have let her win, my curiosity wasn’t sated. “There’s one thing I still don’t get, though.”

Rarity was digging through something in a drawer when I asked my question, but stopped when she heard me.

“Why do you want to do this?” I asked.

She looked kind of annoyed that I would have such a question.

“My reasons are many, but I’ll give you one: your current jacket simply doesn’t fit you at all. In fact, your entire getup is ill-fitting, but that part of it most of all.”

I wasn’t about to tell her how self-conscious that made me.

“What are you talking about? This thing totally suits me!”

“I did not say suit, I said fit. That is a size too big for you, and it certainly shows.”

“First you tell me I dress like shit, and now you’re telling me I look small?”

Rarity chuckled. “Those were not my words. I’ll be honest, your aesthetic does leave a little to be desired. But I don’t mean that disparagingly! I can see your potential! And I can’t imagine you’ve ever given it much thought, have you?”

Part of me felt like I should be insulted. In fact, most of me did. Yet, somehow, I managed to bite that feeling back. I reminded myself she was ultimately doing me a favor. That, and maybe she was going somewhere with this. If she wasn’t, then I could snap.

“No,” I answered. “Before I came here, I didn’t even wear clothes. Getting dressed is just an obligation, so why would I care about what I’m wearing?”

Rarity shook her head. “But darling, it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Sorry, Rarity, but I have enough to be neurotic about. I don’t need to be that way about my appearance, too.”

Rarity shot me an angry glare, but blinked it off and cleared her throat.

“But Sunset, think of what it could do for your image.”

“You’re losing me.”

“Think about it,” she said, circling me again. “Your wardrobe hasn’t changed a bit since before we were friends. Of course, we—me and the girls—know that you’ve changed on the inside, but to everyone else, all they have to go by is what’s outside.”

I nodded along, slowly putting together what she was getting at. I wasn’t happy with it, but I was starting to understand.

“Perhaps the student body doesn’t treat you as poorly as they used to, but it’s evident they’re still intimidated by you. And a change to your aesthetic is just what you need to alleviate that.”

“Why is that my problem, though?” I replied. “They’re the ones judging me unfairly—okay, maybe it’s actually pretty fair—but why do I have to change myself?”

“I’ll admit, that's a fair question to ask. But don’t you want to change it up a bit? Don’t you want the way you look to reflect who you know you are?”

I shrugged. “That seems a bit above my head, Rarity. I don’t think about these things.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “And that’s why I’m so adamant. How do you expect to find yourself if you surrender to stagnation? Your aesthetic is the easiest part of yourself to change. Like your jacket! That strength of yours is obscured by ill-fitting fabric barely hanging off of your shoulders. But one tailored specifically for you will accurately reflect your stature.”

I chuckled. “What, are you gonna put padding in the sleeves to make it look like I have muscles?”

“As amusing of an idea as that may be, no.” She smiled. “But, if you’ll trust me, I promise you’ll love the result.”

There was no denying Rarity brought up some good points, but the next thing she said derailed me too hard to give them any thought.

“Now, take off your clothes.”

My eyes went wide. “Uhm, what?”

“If I’m going to take your measurements, I’ll need you to undress. You don’t have to take your underwear off, though.”

“Can’t you just do that through what I’m wearing?” I asked.

“Unless what you’re wearing is as thin as tissue paper, that would make any measurement I took inaccurate,” she answered. “When it comes to sizing, there are no half measures. It’s best to be precise first, then guess if you need to later on.”

As Rarity shuffled through a few more of her things, I stood there wondering what to do. On one hand, I really liked the idea of having a custom-fitted jacket, and who was I to say no to a gift like that? Had I known earlier it would involve stripping down, though, I might not have said yes.

Turning around, I saw all five of my reflections. Maybe the jacket did make me look kind of small, but the fact that it obscured my body was one of the reasons I liked it. In fact, most of my regular wardrobe choices were because of that. The looser the clothing, the harder it is to make out my shape, the harder it is to identify who and what I am.

But maybe that was the problem?

It wasn’t like I was deformed or anything. From what I could tell, I looked pretty average. I had a bit more mass and a good amount more height than most girls around my age, but I was ‘normal’ in most other ways.

But even after years of being on this side of the portal, I still wasn’t used to how strange my human body felt compared to my actual one. It was something that felt impossible to talk about with anyone.

When Flash and I were together, he tried telling me about all the things he liked about my body to make me feel better. While I’m sure he was being genuine, nothing he said stuck. When I tried to talk about it with my friends, they all felt inclined to deflect any negative comments I had about myself, but that never did anything for me either. I was never looking for a reason to think differently, because I more or less accepted that’s just how life was meant to be for me.

After all, I didn’t hate how I looked, so I didn’t need to be convinced why I should like it. I wasn’t content with the ambivalence, but it wasn’t making my life worse in any tangible way. Why rock the boat?

“Sunset?” Rarity broke me out of my stupor. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Yeah! It’s fine, I’m fine.”

Her expression told me she wasn’t buying it. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure! I-…” I wasn’t fooling either of us.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Sunset. If you’re not comfortable, that’s all you have to say. We can always do this another day.”

I looked around the room like the answer was on a wall somewhere. Eventually, I closed my eyes and spit something out.

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable about being nude or whatever—that was the default back where I grew up—but this body just looks… weird. And the way people react about nudity makes it feel even weirder.”

Rarity stepped behind me, her reflection appearing alongside all five of my own.

“You’re not afraid I’ll think it’s weird, are you?”

“Not really, no. I just don’t really like looking at myself any more than I have to.”

Rarity let out an exhale. When she began to speak, her voice was as soft as it was sincere.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t know how that felt. Perhaps not in the same way you do, but I’ve found myself saying things like that.”

A breathy chuckle passed through my lips. “Really?”

“I know that may sound strange coming from someone who is as dedicated to their appearance as I am, but that’s why I obsess in the first place. That’s part of why fashion fascinates me; clothing does a lot to shape how you’re perceived. It communicates who you may be, who you may associate with. But not only that, it changes the way you look at yourself.”

She sat down on the pedestal next to me. “For instance, I’m not a fan of how broad my shoulders are, but there’s not much I can do to change it. However, with a v-neck and the right sleeves, they’re suddenly not all that noticeable. To me, at least.”

When I looked down at Rarity, I honestly couldn’t tell what she was talking about. Even if she weren’t compensating for it, I would have never thought that about her had she not pointed it out.

“And it’s not as if those qualities are ones I’ve been ridiculed for,” she continued. “Barring a few recent incidents, I’ve seldom ever been the subject of any bullying.”

I heaved an annoyed sigh, which Rarity caught immediately.

“Eheh, no offense.”

The girls made comments like that all the time, and I had the same stock response every single time.

“None taken,” I lied.

Rarity continued. “My point is: yes, it’s unfair that people expect you to change when you don’t want to. But does that have to mean that you can’t find a reason to do it for yourself, darling?”

I sat there, gazing into the panel of mirrors. It may have looked like I was thinking, but something else was happening inside my brain. Nothing Rarity said was anything I’d really given much thought to at all, and without a frame of reference, I didn’t know how to answer a question like that. What would ‘a reason to do it for myself’ even look like if I didn’t care?

Thankfully, Rarity was either asking rhetorically, or she just wasn’t interested in my answer.

“So, if you want to do this some other time, that’s fine. But I promise I will do what I can to make this as comfortable for you as possible.”

The staring contest I had with my reflections finally ended in a tie.

I pulled my shirt over my head. “Can you put spikes on the shoulders?”

Rarity’s face lit up, a blink between her sitting and standing. “I’ll do you one better: I’ll make it so you can take them off and put them back on at will!”

Rarity excitedly ran across the room, rummaging through a drawer for some measuring tape. As she did, I stripped all the way down to my underwear. Looking at my reflections one more time, my body still made my stomach turn. But maybe with the right fit, it wouldn’t be so bad.

When Rarity turned around, she breathed in heavily, almost like she was hiding a gasp. Even stranger than that, she started smiling.

“I told you this body is weird,” I half-joked. Truthfully, her reaction was like a sock to the gut, but I had to expect it, so I let it roll.

“There’s nothing wrong with you! That’s not why I’m–I just, I’m, um…”

“You’re just what?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” She shook her head. “Let’s just get to work, shall we?”

That felt kind of awful right after our last conversation, but I wasn’t willing to make it an issue. I couldn’t think I looked strange and then get mad when someone reacted accordingly.

Rarity got to work measuring me. When she got up behind me, she paused.

“Goodness, Sunset, what happened to your back?” She sounded shocked.

As a testament to how little I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t even think of what she could be talking about at first. Then I remembered.

“Oh, yeah. That. Parting gift from the Fall Formal.”

“Did we do that?”

“No,” I answered. “Or at least I don’t think so.”

Rarity was standing behind me, but I could tell she was still gawking. This was getting frustrating.

“Does it hurt?” she asked. Rarity wasn’t touching them, but I could feel her getting closer.

I took a step forward. “Can we please get on with this?”

“Right,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted. “Let’s just not talk about it.”

Things were a little awkward after that. I felt bad about snapping at her, but that was a conversation I was planning on having with nobody at never. There wasn’t a single person alive in any world who I wanted to tell about all the souvenirs I got from that fateful night, least of all that one.

Thankfully, things quickly settled into the pattern for a while: make me stand a certain way, scribble in her notebook, and repeat. Her hands being so close to my body felt odd, so much so that I thought of something to talk about to distract myself.

“How did the band meeting go the other day?”

Seconds ticked by without an answer. Rarity was standing behind me, so I couldn’t tell if she was measuring me, or if that was actually the worst question I could have asked.

“It was a meeting, that’s for sure.”

“Descriptive,” I sarcastically replied.

“If I’m being honest, it wasn't much of a meeting at all, actually. We all shared ideas and whatnot, but it felt like the only ones that got any amount of discussion were whatever Rainbow Dash brought up. Aside from that, it doesn’t seem like we’re much on the same page yet.”

“Really?” I asked. “You guys sound so good already, though. Don’t you have to be on the same page to do that as a band?”

“Perhaps we’re still riding off the novelty, but hardly anyone seems like they can agree on anything. For instance, any time I suggest the slightest tweak to our aesthetic, Applejack shuts down the conversation by insisting we ‘worry more about soundin’ good than lookin’ it.’ It drives me absolutely mad.”

Her impression was so exaggerated that I couldn’t help but laugh, but in a feel-bad kind of way.

Before I could ask my next question, Rarity blindsided me once again.

“Would you mind unhooking your bra, darling?” she said from behind.

I could feel my face flush. “I thought you said I could leave that on.”

“That was before I saw you wearing a bra that size,” she replied. “I’m impressed you can even breathe in that thing.”

Reaching behind myself, I tried to undo the hooks, but wasn’t exactly sure what motion to do that with. For the most part, I just left it hooked. If I needed to take it off or put it back on, I did that like I would a shirt.

Eventually, Rarity got impatient. I tried and failed to suppress a shudder as I felt her fingers against my skin, her hands deftly unhooking it. Once it was unfastened, it fell to the floor.

Rarity gasped. “My goodness, Sunset. How are you able to function like that?”

“Like what?”

“That thing has got to be several sizes too small!” Her finger traced part of the red imprint across my midsection, the one always showed up after wearing that thing for more than a few hours. “Look at this! Didn’t you think there was something amiss? Your poor girls!”

I was starting to question whether or not I wanted to go along with this or not. So far, Rarity had spent a lot of time tearing me down, and I was losing my patience.

“In case you’re unaware, I’m not from here,” I firmly stated. “I was never interested in clothes when I lived in Equestria, and being required to wear them here makes me even less interested. So, yeah, maybe I dress like I don’t know what I’m doing because I don’t. So can you please stop rubbing it in?”

I could hear her take a step back behind me.

“My apologies, dear,” she said. “You’re absolutely right. I should be more considerate.”

My heart sank. Immediately, I started feeling guilty about talking to her that way, especially with how quickly she apologized.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I began, turning to face her. “It’s just that–”

Rarity looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“What?” I asked.

She pointed at my chest.

“Oh, right.” I quickly threw my arms over my breasts.

Rarity stammered, trying to get some words out. “L-Let’s just continue, shall we?”

Before I could answer, she grabbed my shoulders and almost forcibly turned me back around. It felt like she was trying to make me feel worse about myself, but it was also impossible to tell what was on her mind. Rarity could be harder to read than Pinkie Pie sometimes.

In an attempt to move on from All That, I asked another question.

“So, what did Applejack say when you told her that?”

“Hmm? Told her what?”

“That it ‘drives you mad,’ like you said.”

“I didn’t.”

“…You didn’t?”

“Of course not.”

“Why?”

“Because it simply isn’t worth it.”

“What do you mean–” I paused as the measuring tape pressed right against my boobs, an interrupting gasp escaping me, “–it isn’t worth it?”

“As much as I love our dear friend Applejack, she’s as stubborn as a mule.” Rarity pulled the measuring tape tight—maybe a bit too tight. “Sometimes, I can’t stand being around her. It’s like talking to a brick wall.” Rarity removed the tape, muttering what sounded like ‘unbelievable’ under her breath.

“With the stature to match,” I added.

Rarity let out a sharp laugh at that. “I can’t disagree.” She cleared her throat. “By the way, do keep this between us, would you, darling? Not that I’m trying to keep secrets from anyone, but I’d just rather not stir the pot.”

“Not like anyone ever asks what I think anyway,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that, Sunset?”

“I said ‘no way anyone’s ever getting me… that, to say,’” I said, trying to cover my ass. “The thing you said, that is. Things, you said.”

Rarity looked a little confused, but thankfully didn’t press. After that, the conversation died out. She finally finished taking measurements and left me alone to get dressed while she fetched a few things from another room.

As I put my clothes back on, I kept thinking about the fact that Rarity wouldn’t even try to tell Applejack how she felt. I mean, far be it from me to tell anyone else to talk about their feelings, but it just seemed like such an easy solution. They were good friends, and AJ was the pragmatic type, so she would understand, right? At least, that’s how I thought it was supposed to work.

The longer I thought about it, the more concerning it became. Not just their situation, but the entire situation. First, Fluttershy complained to me about Rainbow Dash a while ago. Then Pinkie Pie mentioned the fact that no one tells her anything, and now Rarity was telling me this. Not talking to each other seemed to be a running theme in this group.

Admittedly, I kind of already knew that. It was how I pitted them against each other for so long, after all. But even after I stopped doing that, they still seemed at odds with each other. Maybe no one was shouting, or refusing to talk to each other yet, but what if it came to that? What would I even do?

And now, I was collecting their secrets; something I was historically bad at keeping. Not that I had any plans to start blabbing to anyone—I meant it when I said hardly anyone asks what I think—but what if I slipped up?

And would they believe me if it was an accident? Could I believe it was an accident, and not just some compulsion when a good opportunity to spill arises? Could I blame anyone for thinking a mistake I made with their sensitive information was actually malicious? That was kind of my whole thing for a while.

At what point did I have an obligation to say something? What if they all kept refusing to talk to each other? What if the group eventually imploded because of that? Would it be my fault since I could have done something but refused, even if my refusal was well-intended?

And even then, what could I do? What right did I have to even say anything in the first place? They were the ones supposed to be teaching me about friendship, not the other way around. For the first time in my life, I found myself wishing Twilight was there to help.

I felt relieved when Rarity finally came back into the room. Any longer and I might have been stuck in that spiral.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Sunset. I didn’t realize how late we were running. I know I’ve taken up plenty of your time today. So, if you’d like, you can leave your jacket with me tonight, and I’ll have it ready for you first thing tomorrow morning.”

When I arrived, I already wanted to leave. But after that storm of thoughts, I knew I’d just go home and ruminate.

Besides, Rarity was apologizing to me for taking too long to do favors for me. Things she really didn’t have to do. Things she just wanted to do.

What was another hour or so?

I shook my head. “I don’t mind sticking around a little longer."

A surprised look crossed Rarity's face. “Really?”

I smiled. “Yeah, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Author's Note

The idea for this chapter came to me not long after I finished Can You See What I See? (there's a line in chapter 9 that vaguely alludes to this moment) but I never knew what it looked like until I started writing this recently. This is probably one of the most personal things I've ever written, and I refuse to elaborate on that. Hope you enjoyed.