7 Days in Heaven

It's been a rough night. Every time you close your eyes and try to go to sleep, all you can see and hear is Applejack. You can feel her, smell her, taste her... and your thoughts are consumed by your final decision. Just leaving her there like that, when she was practically giving herself to you...

You get out of bed, turn on a light, and go over to your suitcase. You dig through the mess, and delve into the final compartment. You pull out a large pad of paper, and a box full of different sorts of pens and colored pencils. You flip through the sketchbook, looking at your past drawings. Sketching is one of the few things you're really good at. Whenever you sketch, you feel like you can escape the world, run away from all your problems. Most of the time you sketch fantasy stuff- dragons, unicorns, pegasi, things of that nature. But today is different. Today you have an image burned into the retina of your mind's eye, and you know you have to express it. You choose your writing utensils like a knight would choose his weaponry. You close your eyes, and put the image in the center of your conciseness. You start out with straw yellow, for the hair. Then you move onto green, for the eyes. You keep going, drawing her body, her clothes, her hat, and of course her freckles. When it's over, you're surprised at how good it looks. For such a short time, you think you did an amazing job. You make a mental note to give it to Applejack before you leave. You stretch, put your stuff away, and take a look out of your window. The sun is just rising over the trees. You aren't very rested, but you don't think you can go back to bed at this point. You might as well get ready for the day.

You don't know when you started getting picked on by Diamond Tiara and some of her friends. For a while you managed to avoid them- mostly because you followed Dash around like a puppy dog. But eventually you had to venture out away from your best friend, and as soon as you did... they would find you. Their barbs hurt more than the older guys punches. Physical attacks would hurt, but heal. What they said about you would stay with you for years.

"Fucking loser, all he does is suck up to the teachers."

"I hear he's some kind of queer."

"Wouldn't surprise me, just look at him."

After it happened, Dash would always do the same thing: assure you that they were all just being assholes, and threaten to beat them up the next time she saw them. You'd always thank her, but say she should leave them alone. She probably thought it was because you didn't want her to get in trouble. She might be surprised to learn that you didn't much care; more than once you wished she would just go Bruce Lee on their asses and teach them a lesson. But the real reason was because of one of the girls that hung out in that group. Like the others, she was beautiful for a high-schooler. In fact, she was probably the best looking of the bunch. It wasn't just because of raw beauty either, it was the way she carried herself. Her grace, her posture, even the way her long purple hair was combed so that it seemed to bounce around her. She just seemed to be on a plane above everybody else. You noticed that, when the rest of her friends would start picking on someone, she always stood to the side. She'd give an uncomfortable little chuckle at some of the more deadly of the verbal stabs, but it seemed to be out of obligation rather than real malice. You had a feeling that she wasn't really into the whole thing. But for some reason, she still traveled around with that pack of jackals. You always wanted to know why, but you were positive you would never have a chance.

You were wrong.

You take another look at yourself in the mirror. You feel like a different man. The clothes you have on, the way your hair is done, even the way you walk- it all seems different somehow. You don't know why you have this sudden change in attitude, but you're glad you do. You strut out of the bathroom, and down the stairs. You're about to go to the kitchen, when something catches your eye. It's a rose petal. You bend down to pick it up, wondering how a rose petal could have gotten into the house. You didn't see any roses outside. You examine it, and look around. You realize there's another rose petal on the ground- in fact, there is a whole line of them. You follow the petals, realizing that they must be a trail of some sort. They stop at a closed door. The door is painted differently then any other in the house. It is a bright blue, with red letters drawn on the center of it. The letters read, "Artist's room." They are drawn crudely, as if by a child. You reach for the doorknob, then pull back. You try to remember who it was you were supposed to be seeing today... which one of your friends might do something like this...

You take a deep breath, and open the door. You step inside, and look around. It's huge, and filled with paintings. Some of them are very well done, while others seem to be kindergarten-esque scrawling. Regardless of the skill, they are all placed prominently around the room. In the middle of the room is a canvas, and in front of the canvas is a... is a...

Holy shit.

Rarity is lying down on the couch, covered in a purple velvet robe. Her hair is, as usual, perfectly done. It bounces with every little move she makes, seeming to swirl around her like a purple veil. What skin is showing is pearlescent, shining like an angels feathers. Her makeup is done in that perfect way where you barely notice it is there. She smiles, and beckons you with her pointer finger.

"Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?"

You close the door, and nudge yourself forward a few paces. You know that you're blushing hard enough to melt ice at this point. Applejack is beautiful in her own special way, but Rarity is... on a whole other level.

"No, no, come closer."

You scoot forward some more. Rarity rolls her eyes, and stands up. She walks over to you, and takes your arm. She sits you down on a chair in front of the canvas. She lies back down, and stares at you.

"Surprised?"

You try to say something, but the only thing that escapes your throat is a high-pitched squeak.

"I'll take that as a yes."

You shake your head, and try to regain your composure.

"So, um... this is an interesting place to meet."

"Yes, I thought it might be. Dash told me you were something of an artist."

"Well, I like to sketch."

"Wonderful! That's why I brought you the canvas."

"Oh, right. Well, what am I going to sketch?"

"The most beautiful thing in this room of course."

She gives you a sly smile.

"Me."

"Excuse me!"

You speed up the pace, and don't look back. You've seen the popular clique running around, and you're doing anything in your power to avoid them. That voice wasn't Dash's, and certainly wasn't Applejack's, so it could only be trouble. You start jogging, but out of your peripheral vision you can see the girl doing her best to keep up.

"Hey, hang on a second!"

You're surprised by how soon she catches up to you; you wouldn't think a girl that dainty could move herself that fast. She stands in front of you, and you almost run right into her.

"I'm surprised at you! Don't you know that a gentlemen always replies to a ladies request?"

It is Rarity. Somehow you had a feeling it might be her- which is what is going to make this so much worse. You thought maybe she wouldn't do this to you... that maybe she was better... but it seems you were wrong. You steel yourself mentally, and decide to just answer her.

"I apologize Rarity. I just wasn't sure whether you were talking to me or someone else."

"Well I was talking to you. As unusual as that might seem..."

She looks around, and grabs you by the arm. She pulls you over past the lockers, and into a janitor's closet. She shuts the door, and turns on the lights. You realize how close in proximity you are to her, and you begin to blush. You don't want to- it seems tremendously feminine- but you've been a blusher your whole life.

"Umm... what's going on."

"I need your help. You're the one who tutored Applejack, right?"

"Well, yes. Why, do you need help with math? Because I could ask Ms. Cherilee to-"

"No, no, nothing as mundane as that. I may not look it, but I am quite good at arithmetic. No, I need your help in a much more... unusual matter."

"Well, forgive me Rarity, but... why would I help you?"

She looks like you've slapped her.

"I mean, you and your friends do nothing but make fun of me. Why would I help someone who only causes me grief?"

"You mean you'd seriously turn down a request from me. Don't you know who I am!?"

"Yes, I do. And that doesn't change anything."

"But... but I'm the most ravishing girl in the whole school!"

"And that still doesn't change anything. I don't care what you look like one bit."

"Wow, the girls weren't kidding about you."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh nothing, nothing. Ugh, okay. I'm sorry I made fun of you alright? There, I apologized. Now will you please help me? Pleeeeeeeease?"

She sticks out her bottom lip, and somehow manages to make her eyes watery. You sigh, and lean on a nearby broom-rack.

"What do you need help with?"

"I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."

"WHAT!?"

"I know, I know, I can't believe I have to do this either. But... well... you see... you know Blueblood, right?"

"Who doesn't? He's only the most popular kid in the whole school."

"Right. Well, as you also probably know, we've been going out for a few months now. The truth is, I don't like him at all- in fact, I think he's a cretin. One day he pushed me too far with his, ahem, lewdness, and I broke up with him. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do, but the more I think about it..."

"I don't understand, what is there to think about? If the guy is an asshole, just stay away from him. I mean, you're Rarity. You could get any guy you want."

"Oh I know that, but... well, he will be the Prom King- it's just a fact. And if I want to become Prom Queen, I have to figure out a way to get back together with him. Otherwise they'll vote whatever skank happens to be hanging from him to that honored position, and I just can't let that happen."

"But why me? Why not some other random guy?"

"Well, for a couple of reasons. The rumor is that you're a very chivalrous gentlemen- one who would never overstep his boundaries."

Translation: because you're a spineless worm who would never hit on me.

"And because you're, umm... not the most popular kid in the school."

Translation: and also because you're an absolute loser, which will drive Blueblood insane.

"So let me get this straight: you want me, a kid you've been insulting for his entire high school life, to help you. Not only that, but you want me to help you manipulate someone just so you can win some stupid prom thing. And on top of THAT, you basically want me to help you because you think I'm a huge loser?"

She stares at the ground guiltily.

"I'm sorry Rarity, I just can't."

She looks up, shocked.

"What? No, but... but you have to..."

Her eyes start to water again, and out of nowhere she squeezes you. Every ounce of air rushes out of your lungs, and you give a high pitch gasp of surprise.

"I don't have anyone else to turn to! If you don't help me it will be... THE. WORST. POSSIBLE. THING!"

She squeezes you even harder, and you realize you just can't help yourself. You fold like a house of cards in a hurricane.

"Alright, fine. I guess I'll help you."

"Oh thank you thank you thank you thank you! I'll tell you what exactly we need to do in a little while. In the meantime... keep being a nerd, I guess."

She rushes out of the closet, slamming the door on her way out.

"What... what the heck just happened?"

"Oh geez Rarity, I really appreciate it, but, uh..."

"What's a matter? Am I not good enough of a subject?"

"No, I mean, of course you are. It's just, well... this is pretty intimate, and-"

"Oh honey, don't think of it like an intimate thing. Think of it like a painter bringing a stunning vision to life."

You sigh, and walk over to Rarity.

"Please drop the act."

She raises her eyebrows.

"Act? What act? I'm simply asking you to-"

"Rarity!"

You're surprised by the sternness of your voice, and you can tell that she is too.

"Please. Today is our special day together, and I'd like to spend it with the real Rarity. Not this... parody of yourself you insist on performing."

Rarity nods. Her shoulders slump, her perfect figure seems to fall. Even her hair seems to have less bounce. But somehow she is even more present, even more radiant. Yes. This is the Rarity you were looking for.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so used to having to act like that, it's become-"

"Instinct?"

"Yes, instinct. I keep forgetting you're not like all the other guys. I'm so used to them trying to use me... to hurt me..."

She turns her head. You set your hand on her shoulder.

"That's all in the past now Rarity. You got away from all that, remember?"

"Of course I remember. Without you, I might have.... he might have..."

You see a shiver travel up her spine. She turns to you, and addresses you austerely.

"Let's not think about that. I want today to be about us. I've been looking forward to this for a long time. I never really got to thank you. And I never really got to, well, apologize."

"You don't have to apologize Rarity. I understand what you were going through."

"That doesn't excuse my behavior! Even today I feel ashamed. Not only about what I did to you, but how I acted all through high school. I acted like a... a..."

"Not very nice person?"

She struggles for a bit, before she finally belts it out.

"A bitch! I acted like a self-righteous, precocious, better than everyone else bitch!"

She seems to relax a little.

"Wow, that actually was rather nice to say. I've been keeping that inside me for a while. But anyway, back to you. To be honest, I'm not very good at apologizing. I could just say I'm sorry, but that wouldn't be enough. This sketching thing was my idea of saying sorry. I know it's a little vain to assume that you would want to sketch me, but I thought-"

"Rarity, I do want to sketch you. It's just that, well, I'm a little nervous. I've only ever sketched girls from my memory, or my imagination. I've never had a real subject before."

"Well, I'd be honored to be your first."

You two exchange friendly glances, and you take your seat by the easel.

"Alright, um... pose for me, I guess."

"My pleasure."

Rarity reaches to her waistline, and unties the rope holding her robe together. It drops, and pools around her feet.

"Where should I stand?"

You figure you'll answer her after you wake up from your coma.

"Did you hear who Rarity is going out with?"

"Him!? Really!? What the hell is wrong with her?"

"Maybe he's not as much of a dweeb as we thought."

"Or maybe Rarity has just gone crazy."

You've pretended to go out with Rarity for almost a week now. You're surprised at how different people have treated you. The popular kids have stopped trashing you. The nerds seem to adore you. And some of the jocks stare at you with hatred, as if you stole something that belonged to them. Funnily enough, you don't actually see Rarity that often. She'll occasionally come up and give you a sort of awkward hug someone might give to a sick pet, but then she goes right on living her life. All the commotion seems to be dying down a little though, which will finally give you enough time to visit the two people who mean the most to you: Dash and Applejack.

The two are sitting outside your school, lounging on a bench. You're surprised how fast the two hit it off. True, they are very similar, but Dash doesn't really hang out with a lot of girls, and Applejack is pretty strong-willed. It's just one of those weird friendships that are practically impossible to figure out. They see you, and they wave you over. There isn't enough room on the bench, so you just sit in front of them on the sidewalk. You smile up at Dash.

"What's up best friend?"

"Oh, you know, same old same old. Running circles around everyone-"

"Everyone 'cept me."

Applejack chuckles, and Dash gives her a murderous leer.

"You beat me in one race, and all of a sudden you're-"

"Calm yer jets missie, I'm just foolin' around."

Dash snorts, and the moment passes. She turns and addresses you.

"So I hear you've finally got a girlfriend. And a looker at that."

Applejack looks surprised, and for a brief moment, disappointed.

"Oh really? Who?"

You shrug sheepishly.

"Rarity."

Applejack's mood immediately darkens.

"Isn't she one of those girls who's always makin' fun of people?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Why in the hell would you go out with a girl like that?"

Applejack is shivering with emotion. Dash pats her on the back.

"Hey, chill out Applejack. So she's a little prissy, everyone has something."

"She ain't just prissy! She's downright mean!"

"But it's his first girlfriend, you can't expect him to-"

"Not go out with a total asshole! Why yes I can!"

"GIRLS!"

The two look at you, shocked. You grin sheepishly.

"Sorry. Look, it's not a big deal. We're not even really doing anything. I'm just helping her out."

The two exchange confused glances.

"Helping her... out?"

You explain the situation. When you finish, the look of shock on their faces shines through so clearly it almost hurts. Dash finally breaks the silence.

"Dude, she's using you! You can't let her do this. You're not some sort of pet, you're a person."

"I know, I know. But if I don't let her do this to me, then she'll find some other guy. I know I can handle a situation like this. But some other little nerd who's never hung out with a girl before... they could be really hurt."

"No! You don't have to martyr yourself just to help some stupid prep."

"Dash is right."

Applejack stands up, and rolls her shirt up to her elbows.

"I'm putting an end to this right now!"

"No!"

You stand in front of her.

"This is my choice. I've made my decision, and I need you to respect it. I don't need protection Applejack."

Applejack stares you down for a few seconds, and then walks off in a huff.

"Fine! You don't want my help, then I'll just let that girl stomp all over ya!"

Dash gets up and stands next to you.

"She's only looking out for you, you know."

"I know Dash. I know."

After you recover from the shock, you attempt to assess the situation. But you can't even seem to process it. You've seen naked women before, but never a real one. Here. In front of you. Right now. This second.

"You okay dear?"

Again, you try to utter something, but nothing comes out.

"What's the matter? Wrong pose?"

She turns around, grabs the couch, and bends over. You feel all your blood rushing out of your head.

"Whatever is, umm... most comfortable for you."

"Oh, alright."

She takes her original position, laying on the couch.

"Is this good?"

"That's... fantastic."

You try to do some preliminary outlining, but your hands shake so badly that you can barely hold the pencils. You have to calm yourself. Maybe imagine that she's in her underwear?

"So, uh, I guess you're pretty comfortable with your body."

"Of course I am! I've worked very hard for this figure, and I love to show it off."

"Well, you're very beautiful."

"Oh, thank you!"

The conversation brings you back onto the logical plane of existence. Your hands stop shaking, and you begin your sketches. She actually is very beautiful. Her curves are perfect... your hand seems to guide itself. Rarity really seems to be enjoying this, relishing the attention. You let yourself go completely, focusing entirely on the art. Some other being seems to take ahold of you, guiding you. Your hands move themselves, swirling unidentifiably colored masses into recognizable figures. Rarity looks at you with awe.

"I've... I've never seen you like this before."

You don't answer, because you can't. You're too focused, too in the moment. Any distraction, no matter how small, could break you. It's all starting to come together now. All the whites, the pinks, the purples. Everything becoming what is was always meant to be, coalescing into being. It's been a few hours, but it feels like only a few minutes. You fill in the last few details, and finally, it's done. You feel the muse letting go of you, and you feel restored. You turn the canvas around, and show Rarity.

"What do you think?"

Rarity stares at it open mouthed.

"It's... it's wonderful."

She walks over to you, and stands next to you. You begin to feel yourself going numb, loosing all mental control. She cups your head in her hands, leans down, and kisses you. You return it eagerly. You stay like this for awhile, riding the waves of Rarity lips, surfing the tide of her tongue. You reach out to touch her, but pull your hand back. Without warning, she takes it, and guides you to her most intimate parts. She gasps, and you groan. You pull yourself away. Rarity looks at you, alarmed.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I can't!"

You stand up, and turn away. Rarity sighs, picks up her robe, and puts it back on.

"I know. Applejack told me. But somehow, I thought you might change for me."

"You know I can't do that."

"Yes, I do."

She walks over to you, and puts her hands on your shoulders.

"But, if it doesn't work out... promise me we'll pick up where we left off."

"I promise."

"Good."

She walks out of the room, and you collapse into the nearest chair.

You wonder why in the hell Rarity would want to meet you at this hour. It's nearly midnight, and on a school day. You had to sneak out of the house- you nearly killed yourself trying to crawl out of your window. You check your phone again, rereading the text for what feels like the five-thousandth time.

"Meet me at the school parking lot in a half hour. Need to discuss something very important."

Short, sweet, to the point, but something just doesn't seem right. There's something weird about this... but you promised to help her, and you intend to keep that promise.

You pull up to the school, and cruise around the parking lot, looking for Rarity. You see her... and you feel your body go limp. She's bleeding, and bruised. Standing next to her is a large guy in a torn up white T-shirt and dirty jeans. He holds her by the arm in one hand, and in the other holds a bottle of what you assume is beer.

"Get out here motherfucker! You tried to steal my girlfriend from me, and now you're gonna get it!"

You park the car, shaking with fear. You've been picked on before, and pushed around... but you've never been in a real fight. And this guy definitely looks like he means business. You open the door, and walk towards him slowly. Rarity looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Just get out of here! You can't take him... don't hurt yourself for me."

"Shut up bitch!"

Blueblood drops the bottle, and slaps Rarity with his free hand. She screams in pain, and suddenly all the fear is gone. There is only anger. Adrenaline and anger. You rush towards him, throwing your left fist at him as hard as you can. He lets Rarity go, and grabs your fist like it was a tossed baseball.

"That's all you got?"

His breath stinks of alcohol he must have been drinking all day.

"Lemme show ya how a real man punches!"

He balls his fist up, and throws it into your stomach. The pain is immense- you feel like your guts are coming up. You don't have to long to ruminate on it, as the fist comes back up and hits you right above the eye. You gasp, and see the world go fuzzy. You hear Rarity screaming,

"Stop it! Please, leave him alone, he doesn't deserve this!"

The world clears, and you reach up and touch your forehead. You're bleeding, though you can't tell how bad. Blueblood approaches you slowly, enjoying every minute of this.

"I'm going to beat you so bad man... I'm going to make sure you never forget this. I'm going to make sure you remember why you leave the pretty girls for guys like me."

You have to think fast. You look around you, and you see the obvious solution. The parking lot is coated with gravel. You pick up a large stone, and, as Blueblood lumbers closer to you, you chuck it at his head. It smashes him on the nose. For a second he looks surprised, but then his face contorts into pain.

"Ahh! Fuck, my fucking nose! You dirty fighter!"

You don't give one shit about whether or not you're fighting dirty. You pick up more rocks, and start chucking them. Most of them hit, and he starts squealing in pain.

"Stop! Stop, dammit!"

But you don't. You're tired of this shit. Tired of these people treating you like you're not worth anything. You keep throwing them. He picks up a rock and tries to return fire, but he's so drunk that it doesn't even come close to you. You get a really good shot to his chin, and he falls to his knees. He's bleeding, and his face is swollen. He looks up at you, and raises his hands.

"Please stop. I'll leave now... I'm sorry."

You stop throwing, but keep a few stones in your hands. Blueblood stands up, and looks at Rarity.

"This is your fault you bitch! Why would you break up with me! I... I..."

He slowly walks away, fading into the distance. You drop the rocks, and run over to Rarity.

"Are you okay? God, how could he do this to you? Hitting a girl..."

"I'm fine, he just slapped me a few times, that's all."

"What happened? Why was he out here?"

"Well, I was going to bring you two together, and try to get Blueblood to ask me out again. But I had no idea he was drunk... he started hitting me, and... and touching me. If you hadn't been there..."

She hugs you.

The one time you stood up for yourself... it seems like so long ago. You don't even remember it like most memories- you seem to remember it as if you were looking at if from outside your body. Maybe it's because of the adrenaline, or the fear. Maybe it's just one of those weird things your mind does. You're not sure. But that memory is very dear to you. That day you proved to yourself that you were strong- not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. On the days when you truly feel down, that is the memory you turn to.You return to your room, bringing your sketch of Rarity with you. You smooth it out, and put it on top on an end table. You stare at it for a while, mesmerized. Maybe you really do have some talent... it looks uncannily true to life....

A knock on the door brings your mind back to the present. You open it, and there is Rarity. She's dressed this time, wearing a simple white dress.

"May I come in?"

"Well, um..."

"Just to talk. Really."

You motion for her to come in, and she does so. You shut the door, and turn to her.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to say thank you. Your sketch was very beautiful."

"No thanks necessary, it was my pleasure."

"But more than that, I need to thank you for something else. For being there for me, even though I was..."

"A not very nice person?"

She smiles.

"You're one of the few people in my life who really cares about me. Not about the physical part of me, but the emotional part of me. The part of me I wish I could get people to see."

"You can get people to see it Rarity. Just be yourself- drop the act. You don't have to be pretentious to be special. If you just believe in who you are, and show people the real you, they'll see your true beauty. You don't need this."

You wipe some blush off of her cheek.

"You need this."

You take her hand, and place it on her chest.

"Thank you."

She kisses you on the cheek, and walks out of the room. You take one more look at the sketch. It looks like her, yes- but the reason you feel so awed is that you captured more than her beauty. In that picture, you see the real her. The real Rarity. You realize you may never draw anything that good again... and you're okay with that.