> Ivory
>  by Lithe Kamitatsy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter One
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Ivory

by Lithe Kamitatsy and BillyColt


Octavia wondered just how Frederic was able to continue playing. Weren't stallions very vulnerable in that area? Sheer force of will, she supposed. That must’ve been one of the benefits that Frederic got from his stoicism.

The stallion had devoted his life to the piano- a simple physical injury that could possibly leave him sterile and unable to sire a single foal in his lifetime, would never come between him and his true passion of tinkling the ivory keys. At least, that passion was surely hidden behind the painful grimace.

Soon enough, Octavia, Beauty Brass, and Harpo were spent, leaving Frederic Horseshoepin the sole survivor of the pink maniac’s massacre; however, this was short-lived, as the pain eventually caught up to the poor stallion. Frederic’s vision blurred, and he keeled over in his seat.

“Delayed reaction,” said Harpo. “Classic.”

Things, of course, only got worse as the gala proceeded...





As Frederic slowly regained his senses, he could hear what sounded like muffled voices in the distance.

“...you sure he’ll be okay...?” One voice asked.

“...he’ll be fine. He’s made of tougher stuff...” Another voice responded. 

“...she got him good...” A third voice said.

Slowly, Frederic opened his eyes, seeing the remainder of his ensemble standing over him.

“I...” he said. “Am wearing an athletic cup from now on.”

“Probably not a bad idea, Fred,” Harpo said as he bent over to help his friend to his hooves. Frederic took a look around, and felt his jaw hit the floor when he saw just how bad the remainder of the Dance Hall looked.

“Was...was there a storm of some sort while I was unconscious?” Frederic asked, somewhat panicked.

“Stampede, actually,” said Octavia.

Frederic’s face took on a bemused expression.

“Don’t ask,” said Harpo.

“I don’t believe I want to,” Frederic stated. “All I remember was taking a seat at my piano, then seeing a pink blur appear at the corner of my vision, and suddenly my world was filled with stars. I managed to keep myself composed as long as I could to keep playing, but it got the better of me...and here we are.” 

“We will all mourn the tragic loss of your balls,” said Harpo, bowing his head.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Well, good to see Fred’s just the same as usual,” said Beauty Brass, the sousaphone player with a hearty laugh. 

“Any idea on how much we’re being payed for the event? I can imagine not very much...seeing as it looked like it never did finish,” Frederic said, wondering aloud.

“Given our contract,” said Octavia, “we played for as long as we were able. They’ll pay us.”

“They’d better,” said Harpo. “I was straight-faced the entire time.”

“Weren’t you the first to go down, Octavia? I saw you take a tumble shortly after we began,” Frederic pointed out. “I won’t lie- it was difficult keeping a straight face, so good on you, Harpo.”

“Actually, your face was kinda funny,” said Harpo. “Eyes clenched shut, teeth barred...”

“Not helping.”

“All I can hope is that I never see that pink demon again as long as I’m still alive...I don’t think my family jewels can take another beating like that,” Frederic said, not daring to take a step forward just yet. “And I do intend to be a father someday.”

“Well, keep your hooves crossed, buddy,” said Harpo.

“Such a shame...I had been practicing for sometime for this event,” Frederic said. For more reasons than one... he thought as he cast a quick glance at Octavia, feeling his heart sink at such a huge missed opportunity to catch her eye. He didn’t know why that kept happening. He didn’t have a chance. For all he knew she wasn’t even into stallions, let alone him.

“Hey Fred...you okay? You seem downcast,” Harpo asked, concerned for his friend.

“Hm? Oh, I’m alright. Just a bit disappointed is all. It was a big night, and I wasn’t able to perform at my best,” Frederic said, shutting off his emotions for now. “Why don’t you all go on and collect your things while I call the carriage?”

“Sure thing, Fred,” said Beauty Brass.

Once the group had made their way outside, Fred took a seat near his piano, sighing heavily. “Another night, another blown chance,” he said, his heart heavy. “How much longer am I going to keep chasing her? Do I even stand a chance?” he asked nopony in particular. He could feel his eyes stinging with tears, but refused to let them fall. 

“Dude,” said Harpo. “Don’t talk to yourself, ponies’ll think you’re crazy.”

Frederic turned around, shocked. “How...how long have you been standing there...?”

“Long as you haven’t been getting the carriage,” said Harpo, sitting down next to him.

Frederic let out a long sigh. “Well, if anyone was going to find out, I’m glad you were the one...I don’t know what I would have done had it been Octavia standing there,” he said, his expression glum. 

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Fred. You’ll get another chance,” Harpo said, patting his friend on the shoulder. 

“That’s just it, Harpo...do all these chances even matter? What difference will my effort make if she doesn’t feel the same way, or even see me as a potential significant other?”

“Yes, that can be a bit of a problem with lesbians.”

Frederic blinked. “Wait, what?”

“What, you didn’t know?” asked Harpo. “She’s been seeing this unicorn. Fun girl. DJ.”

“Wait, her?” Frederic asked. “They’re...”

“You need to pay better attention.”

“...I’m such an idiot...” Frederic said, bringing a hoof up to his face. “...It was only a matter of time, I suppose.” He let out a deep sigh, a forlorn expression adorning his face. His heart was broken, and it hurt. 

“Hey, hey, hey...” said Harpo. “It’s okay, it’s okay. There are lots of mares in Canterlot. One’s bound to ask you out eventually.”

“I’ll bet none of them play the cello like she does...” Frederic said, “none of them are as smart as she is, or as beautiful as she is.”

“It is going to be outrageously funny when Octavia walks in on this conversation...”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, she is headed this way,” Harpo pointed out. Frederic scrambled to his hooves, limping away as quickly as he could to call a carriage. Every step he took was met with small pains shooting from his groin, but it was well worth it in comparison to the alternative. 

“Did Frederic call for the carriage?” asked Octavia as she made her way over to Harpo.

“Yeah, that’s getting taken care of,” said Harpo.

“Is... he okay?”

“About what, the balls or the other thing?”

Octavia looked at him. “The other thing?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Harpo. “Bad news and good news. Bad news is he’s very depressed.”

“And the good news?”

Harpo lay on his back, his hooves over his heart. “He’s in looooooooove.”

“In love? How odd. I can’t imagine with whom. Either way, whomever she is, she is a very lucky mare,” Octavia said with a smile. 

If only you knew, Harpo thought to himself as he rolled his eyes at Octavia.

“What was that for, Harpo? Did I say something out of place?” Octavia asked. Harpo was about to speak when Frederic reappeared.

“The carriage should be here momentarily. I trust you and Brass have all your things in order?” Frederic asked.

“Everything is gathered out front, Frederic,” Octavia said. She then made her way over to him and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Hey...best of luck,” she said with a wink. Frederic shot a glance at Harpo, who gave a painful, apologetic shrug from behind Octavia. Ignoring the fresh stab now taken at his heart, he nodded. 

“Thank you, Octavia. Your support is most appreciated,” he said, lying through his teeth. 

“Of course, Frederic. I don’t want you to think of me being just your partner, but your friend.” Octavia gave a warm smile. She was unaware of just what kind of damage she was inflicting. “We’ll always be friends, right?”

Ooh, friendzoned, Harpo thought as he watched this train-wreck of a heart-to-heart between Frederic and Octavia.

Frederic’s eye twitched in a way that was almost undetectable. “Of course, Octavia,” he said with a smile. Harpo decided now would be the best time to intervene.

“Sooooooo,” he said, “who’s in the mood for grape juice?”

“I am,” Frederic said almost immediately, looking for any excuse to leave this conversation. Just something to change the subject to something a little more comfortable and mundane. 





“So, Rarity!” said Pinkie. “How’d things work out with prince charming?”

“More like prince charmless,” said Rarity. “What an awful, awful bore he was, not to mention rude. He had no sense of class, and he essentially proved that chivalry is indeed dead.” Spike scowled, looking hurt. “To think he would use me as a shield, that brute...”

“Aww, it’s okay Rarity. So what if he was a big ol’ snobby-nobby meanie pants?” asked Pinkie. “I’m sure there are stallions out there that are waaaaay better than that wishy-washy prince!”

“Yeah!” piped up Spike.

“Thank you, both of you...it really means a lot to me that you’re trying your best to cheer me up,” said Rarity. “I must say, this night was a disappointment, but... I think it’s a lot better now.”

“We all feel that way, sugarcube,” said Applejack. “Tonight just stank all the way around.”

“Tell me about it,” interjected Rainbow Dash. “I had so many shots at talking to Spitfire, and I lost every single one...but hey, Pinkie messing with those musicians was pretty funny,” she said with a snicker. 

“Rainbow Dash! I’m surprised at you!” Rarity said, her voice raised slightly. “It’s one thing to laugh at happenstance, but it is entirely another to laugh at another’s misfortune. Those musicians tried their hardest to play what Pinkie asked of them, and I can honestly say I commend them for it,” Rarity chastised. “I am certain you would not take kindly to somepony crashing a Wonderbolt performance!”

Rainbow Dash gasped in horror. “That kind of thing would never happen under my watch!”

“Then you understand what I am getting at. As somepony who respects high-class culture and the more refined aspects of life, I consider music to be one of them. Anypony who decides to take up the calling of being a musician has my respect,” said Rarity, her chin held up high.

“Yeah yeah, I get you Rarity,” Rainbow Dash said, fanning her hoof dismissively at Rarity. “Sheesh, way to be a killjoy.”

“Now now girls, just relax,” Twilight interjected. “I know we’ve all had a long night, but that doesn’t mean we should be jumping at each other’s throats.” 

“Twi’s right, girls. Just ‘cause we’ve had a tough break doesn’t mean we get to fly off the handle about it,” Applejack added, backing her up. “We all just need to sleep this off, and try to just forget about what happened tonight.” 

“...I agree,” Fluttershy said. “Please stop fighting...” 

“Understood,” said Rarity. Rainbow Dash only nodded in response, stifling a grumble. 

As much as she wanted to, Rarity could not help but replay the events of the night over in her mind. She felt her emotions running rampant, unsure whether to scream or cry. The stallion of her dreams, turned out to be the stallion worthy of nightmares. So inconsiderate. So rude. So smug. As glad as she was to have rid herself of any desire for the brute, she was forced to face a bitter realization. While her friends all had dreams they wished to accomplish while at the Gala, hers was the only dream that had been broken, aside from being unfulfilled. 

“Sugarcube? Are y’all right?” A voice asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

“What?” Rarity asked, coming back to reality. She then noticed that the other girls had gone on ahead, Applejack waiting idly by. “I’m fine, dear. Why do you ask?”

“Well, for one, you just stopped dead. Second, you didn’t answer anypony when we called out to you. There something you wanna get off your chest?” Applejack asked as they continued their walk, albeit at a much slower pace. 

“I must say, I’m surprised that you were the one that came to see if I was alright. Believe me I mean no offense when I say this, but you and I haven’t exactly gotten along in the past...” Rarity said. 

“Forget about all that,” Applejack said. “You’re my friend, and I take care of my friends like they’re family. I care about you, and I ain’t lying when I say I’m worried about you. C’mon, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“It’s nothing,” said Rarity. “Just a familiar feeling of disappointment.” Applejack raised an eyebrow, seeing through the feeble attempt at trying to play it off.

“I know what you’re selling, sugarcube, and I ain’t buying,” Applejack said with a smirk.

“Fair enough...” Rarity said. With a heavy sigh, she began. “It was that fool of a stallion I was with.”

“Wait, the stallion that said my food was equal to ‘carnival-food?' Why, I’d like to strap him down and –”

“You see my point?”

“I sure do. Yeah, he was about as gentlecoltly as a haystack on fire,” Applejack said. “I’m really sorry you had to put up with that, sugarcube... I can imagine he made your night terrible.”

“You haven’t even the slightest inkling as to how bad it was,” said Rarity. “You know he’s a bad egg when he uses you as a pony cake shield.” 

“He did what now!?” Applejack said, feeling her blood come to a boil. “Shoot, if I ever see that no-good blowhard I’ll make sure he goes from ‘Blueblood’ to ‘Bluebelle’,” she growled, to which Spike noticeably winced.

For the first time that night, Rarity laughed. “Now that is something I would pay bits to see,” she said. “It wasn’t so much him that ruined the night...well, yeah, he did ruin the night, but it was also the image I had of him. I expected him to be gentle, kind, sweet, and above all else, a gentlecolt. Unfortunately, I got what I got,” she sighed. The smile she had quickly dissipated. “...I had waited so long to meet him, and he turned out to be horrible. I just want to find a stallion that will treat me with a shred of dignity. It isn’t too much to ask, is it?” Spike began to straighten himself in his chair.

“Of course not, sugarcube,” Applejack said as she turned to face Rarity. She felt her heart sink when she saw tears sliding down her cheeks, her eyes shut tightly as she fought the urge to cry. “It’s okay, sugarcube... it'll be alright,” Applejack soothed as she pulled her friend into a hug. It was at this point that Rarity let herself go, crying quietly into Applejack’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Rarity... but don’t you worry. I’m sure there’s a stallion out there that’ll treat you right, and treat you the way you want to be treated. You just gotta find him is all.” 

“H-How will I know if he’s the right one?” Rarity asked, sniffling as she fought to regain her composure.

Applejack smiled. “I’m sure you’ll know when you find him,” she winked. Rarity gave a weak smile, and wiped her face as best she could.

“How awful...my make-up is running,” Rarity said with a small laugh.

“It doesn’t matter all that much. You’ve got the looks to knock over any stallion if you wanted,” Applejack said.

“Thank you, Applejack...really, I mean that. You have no idea how much this has helped me,” Rarity said with a soft smile, embracing her friend once more.

“Think nothing of it,” Applejack said, returning the smile and the embrace. “Now c’mon, let’s get home. I’m tired,” she said.

“Me too, Applejack...me too,” Rarity said, following close behind. 


> Chapter Two
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months passed and the musicians in Canterlot continued with their usual jobs. Fred worked his odd jobs as an accompanist, Harpo had a surprisingly lucrative position teaching foals about classical music (he was removed from his classroom after nearly leaping at a foal with a crudely-fashioned garrote made from harpstrings), Beauty Brass joined a marching band for a time, and Octavia was always doing “experiments” with Vinyl that she herself was not always all that enthusiastic about.

All in all, things changed very little. The quartet still regularly met and kept in touch. Frederic was often the one at the center of the group, always there to lend a hoof when one of them needed a practice partner for a sonata or concerto. Octavia, however, slowly took notice of Frederic’s slowly deprecating mood. He seemed more forlorn and weary as time passed, his selected pieces becoming more morose and melancholy. She also noticed that, despite Harpo’s mention of him being in love, she never once saw him with or heard mention of a marefriend.

Poor guy, she thought, she must have rejected him. Perhaps Harpo knows more... After one particular concert, and sure enough, Frederic smiled even less, and looked like he had little to no energy within him. His usually vivid green eyes seemed...dull. Once Frederic and Brass had departed, Octavia caught Harpo before he left. 

“Harpo, is everything alright with Frederic? His mood only seems to be getting worse, and I’m very concerned. Has this love interest of his responded well to him?” asked Octavia.

Harpo shot her a look of such incredulity that Octavia took a step back in surprise. “Was it something I said?”

“You know what the hardest part about being a funny guy is?” asked Harpo. “It’s this feeling that you’re the only pony in the room who isn’t oblivious,” he said as he took a step forward.

Octavia tilted her head in confusion, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t understand...” she said, taking another step back.

“Think about it. Haven’t you noticed that he’s never once mentioned any kind of a marefriend, much less a lover, yet he looks like he got hung out to dry? Think hard, Octavia. Who could it possibly be that Frederic has his eyes on?” Harpo said, his eyes locked on hers.

“Well, I couldn’t imagine who... I mean, Frederic is a very upstanding stallion. Charming, attractive, professional... I daresay he could have any mare he wanted,” Octavia reasoned.

“You’re looking at it wrong, Octavia...Sure, he could have any mare he wants, but what if it’s a mare he can’t have?”

Octavia thought for a minute and then her mouth opened in shock. “Oh no...”

“The moment of realization,” said Harpo. “It’s what ponies like me cherish more than anything else in the world.”

“No, no no no Harpo, that can’t be right! He can’t be in love with...with me...” Octavia stammered, her heart sinking as she realized that it would be her that broke his heart.

“Oh, he can and he is,” he said. “After all, what’s not to like? Apart from your marefriend?”

“Oh no no...” said Octavia. “This is bad...”

“Yeah. I wanted to be in a comedy, not a soap opera,” said Harpo. “Well, you know what they say, Octavia- ‘Them’s the breaks.’” He then let out a small sigh. “Look... just leave him alone for a little while, okay? He’s dealing with a lot, and the last thing he needs is the mare he loves trying to help him get over her.” 

“Harpo, I’m... I’m so sorry...” Octavia said, looking very much upset at the news.

“Hey, it happens... but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” Harpo said as he began to pull the cart his harp-case was sitting on. “Not really something to be sorry for, really. Not like any of us did anything wrong. Well, except me for being a blabbermouth. Whoops! Ain’t I a stinker?” He gave a small laugh, and exhaled. “Oh, this won’t end well...” He muttered under his breath as he left the mare to her thoughts. 

Octavia’s heart ached. Her colleague– no, her friend, was deeply in love with her... and she would be forced to turn him down. “What am I going to do?” 

Octavia made her way back to her apartment, throwing her keys in the bowl as she usually did, setting her cello case against the wall near the door as she usually did, and sat in her spot on the couch as she usually did. She then let out a deep sigh, trying to come up with something- anything to make this easier on both Frederic and herself. Nothing came to mind. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of keys finding their way into the lock, and the door swinging open.

“Hoooo boy!” shouted Vinyl, slamming the door of the apartment. “You would not believe what my engineer says to me...”

Octavia, however, didn’t usually care about Vinyl’s engineer. Try as she might, she just couldn’t really get that terminology processed. Sound engineering was just something she didn’t deal with. She was sitting on their couch, leaning her head on her hoof.

“Vinyl,” she said. “I’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“What?” asked Vinyl, sitting down next to her. “String broke?”

“No,” Octavia sighed. “One of my bandmates is in love with me.”

“Oh...” said Vinyl. “Well... is she cute?”

“Actually,” said Octavia, “it’s a guy.”

“Oh. Then is he cute?”

“Vinyl, this is serious!”

“C’mon, Octy. You know this doesn’t happen often.”

“Do you have even the slightest idea how awkward it is for something like that to come up with a colleague? Or a friend?”

“Well, I gotta admit. It’s nice to know it’s not just me that has the hots for my marefriend,” Vinyl snickered with a wink.

“Validation?”

“Yuh-huh. Absolutely.” Vinyl then began to ponder which one it could be. “Is it the one with the... uh... he plays a harp, right? Or is that one gay?”

“It’s the pianist.”

“Oh, he’s gay?” Vinyl asked. Then she got it. “Oh. Oh. Really? Keys?”

“He has a name, Vinyl.”

“I know, but Keys suits him better. It’s short and snazzy.”

“It’s Frederic.”

Vinyl blinked. “What kind of a name is that?”

“I actually find it to be a lovely name for a stallion.”

“Yeah, if he was alive when the way Princess Luna talks was still normal.”

“Look, the problem is he’s phenomenally depressed right now. And I just don’t know what to do.”

“What else are you gonna do? You gotta let him down easy. Y’know, ‘I think you’re great and all, but my marefriend is gonna kick your ass.’ Except... more fancy. You’re good at making things all foofy, so you’ll be fine.”

“Seems all I can do is hope he gets over this. But I don’t know. From what Harpo told me it’s been eating at him for a while.”

“Sounds more like you got a stalker. I always thought he was a bit creepy... That... lack of a facial expression.”

“He happens to be a stoic. And very, very professional.”

“A what-now?”

“He told me about it, once. It means you don’t let destructive emotions govern your life. Something I think a few ponies in your profession would do well to learn.”

Vinyl stared blankly at Octavia. “So he’s a robot. A robot with a stalker crush. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Octy.”

“Vinyl, why in Equestria would I go looking for a situation like this?”

“To make me jealous?”

“That’s entirely in your arena, Vinyl.”

“Only a little!”

After a small period of silence, Vinyl spoke once more. “Hey, what if we introduce him to a single friend of ours?” Vinyl then brought a hoof to her chin. “...Not sure who’d be willing to date a robot stalker, though...”

“That seems like an idea,” said Octavia. “How rare. I should cherish this moment.”

“Well, don’t rush too quickly to compliment me, sweetheart.”

“Oh, believe me, Vinyl. I won’t. Celestia knows when this will come again.”

“Well,” said Vinyl, in mock hurt, “maybe I should just walk out the door and then you can go solve Frederic’s problem yourself! Octavia, I am hurt- wounded, even, that you would think that I couldn’t come up with an idea to help out your friend!”

Octavia met that with a dull stare.

“That bad, eh?”

“Quite.” Octavia got up and walked over to the fridge.

“So, we have an idea. Next time we’re at the club where I usually spin my sets, we invite Fred over and have him mingle a bit.”

“Hmm. That shouldn’t be too much of a challenge...” she sighed. “Hope it works. It’s really just... kind of distressful to see him pining like this. And if he could see himself he’d be pretty embarrassed. Maybe he already is...”

“So it’s a self-aware stalker robot,” listed Vinyl. “Man this stuff is crazy. Where in Equestria are we gonna find a balance for that?” She then gave a small sigh. “‘Such are the trials of love... perhaps it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all...’” 

Octavia’s mouth hung open, unable to believe what she had just heard.

“What? I read that in a book once.”

“You can read?”

“Very funny, Octy. Very funny.”





Some time later, the musicians had all been invited to a fancy garden party.They still couldn’t catch a break, as the party had nearly been an unmitigated disaster. Fancy Pants, the host, had mercifully (and quite luckily) managed to salvage it. They’d moved indoors to an environment that would have less chances for the country-folk to dig up the ground.

To be fair, Rarity’s... friends seemed to have mellowed out a bit. There were still problems, however...

“I swear, I saw my life flash before my eyes,” said Octavia as she walked indoors. “I thought it’d be the Gala all over again.”

“Same group of ponies, too,” said Harpo.

“Hiya!” shouted the familiar pink maniac, her wide blue eyes boring deep into her target. “Remember meeee?”

Frederic sat on his piano stool, his eyes wide from fear, his hooves placed in front of his nether regions, leaning backwards. Octavia suspected that life was flashing before his eyes, as well.

Before Octavia could rush over to haul Pinkie Pie away, however, another pony intervened.

“Pinkie, I think there’s some more cake over there,” said Rarity.

“Cake? I LOVE cake!” said Pinkie Pie, immediately forgetting about the pianist and hopping away.

“Terribly sorry, sir,” said Rarity. “My friend just gets a little over-enthusiastic sometimes.”

“Well, no harm, no foul,” said Frederic.

Rarity took a look at the stallion before her, squinting slightly. “I daresay I’ve seen you somewhere before...but I can’t put my hoof on the time or place,” she said, furrowing her brow.

“It’s funny, I think I feel the same...”

“Well, judging by your sensible, yet really very classy sense of fashion, it leads me to believe that you attend more high-class affairs...I know I have seen you somewhere before...” Rarity dug deep into the depths of her memories, looking for anything that might connect him to something. It then occurred to her.

“Oh, my stars! You’re that poor stallion my friend Pinkie nearly trampled over at the Gala! Oh, I am dreadfully sorry for any harm she may have caused you. As energetic as she is, she has a good heart and-” She stopped short when Frederic raised a hoof.

“It’s fine. Really. That was ages ago.”

“Are you sure? She did hit you rather hard...”

“I saw a doctor, and I am quite alright, Miss...?”

“Rarity. My name is Rarity.”

“Frederic,” he said. “Frederic Horseshoepin.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Frederic. Again, I am very sorry for Pinkie’s actions. She’s easily excitable, to say the least.”

“Again, no worries. What brings you to the garden party? Are you a friend of Fancy Pants?”

“Indeed I am- well, I wouldn’t say a friend, but more a business partner, rather. I design clothing, perhaps you’ve seen my work?”

Frederic pondered this for a moment. “Now that you mention it, I have heard your name before. Didn’t you collaborate once with Hoity Toity?”

“Oh, so you have seen my work! Tell me what you think, I am always looking for critiquing on my work.”

“I admit,” said Frederic, “that I’m not really the most... visually-inclined of ponies.” He smiled. “But I thought those dresses were lovely.” He thought for a minute. “You ever make suits?”

Rarity smiled demurely. “I appreciate the compliment, Frederic. As for suits, I have dabbled...but I’m always looking for inspiration. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for? I would love to hoof-tailor one for you, if you’d like.”

Frederic smiled. “I would love that.”

“Simply wonderful, darling!” Rarity retrieved a quill and a napkin, and quickly wrote down her address, hoofing it over to Frederic. “Come to my boutique on Thursday morning. We’ll take preliminary measurements among other things,” she said with a smile. “But enough about me. Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

“Not a lot to say. I’m a pianist, always have been.” He straightened his bow-tie. “I’ve been playing in Canterlot for a while. Me and my little group of musicians. We have a nice little ensemble. Sometimes it’s tricky – not a lot of music scored for piano, cello, souzaphone and harp.”

“How interesting! I actually prefer more classical pieces along the lines of Most Art, Beethoofen and Paganeighni, as opposed to what’s played now.”

“I’ve always been fond of Brahmas. Perhaps the greatest of the bovine composers.” 

“Agreed. Truly a visionary of his kind as well as a pioneer of Romantic music.” Rarity smiled.






“Hey AJ...you seeing this?” Rainbow Dash asked, nodding in Rarity’s direction. Applejack turned her head, and blinked in surprise when she saw Rarity talking to the pianist from the Gala, the two laughing and chatting like old friends. “Got any idea who that guy is?”

“Not a clue, Rainbow. She seems to know him pretty well if she’s actin’ that comfortable around him,” Applejack theorized.

“They’re cute together. ‘Stuffy and Stuffier,’” Rainbow Dash snickered, which was met with a small nudge from Applejack. 

“Hey now, RD. Nopony picked on you when you were droolin’ all over Soarin’ and Spitfire,” Applejack said with a smirk, to which Rainbow Dash blushed and fell silent. Fluttershy joined the conversation, letting out a small gasp of surprise.

“Oh my, it’s much too soon for Rarity to be talking to a new stallion! She told me she was still getting over Blueblood–” Fluttershy said, starting to make her way towards her friend. She gave out a small yelp when Applejack gave a firm tug on her tail.

“Now, now, Fluttershy. Rarity’s a big filly, she can handle herself. It’s mighty nice of you to wanna help her, but maybe this is what she needs- to meet a nice stallion that’ll treat her right,” Applejack said, remembering what transpired between herself and Rarity after leaving the donut shop.

“You’re right, Applejack...I’m sorry...” Fluttershy said, relenting as she usually did.

“It’s alright, Fluttershy. I’m sure she’d be very thankful that you wanted to help her,” Applejack said with a reassuring smile. “Besides, we don’t even know if that’s what it is. Maybe they are just friends that haven’t seen each other in a while. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions...” she finished, casting a sideways glance at Rainbow Dash.

“Girls, it’s not polite,” said Twilight. “I mean, really, it’s just immature to whisper behind ponies’ backs like this. How would you feel if that was you over there, and it was you getting talked about?”

“We’re not behind her back, she’s on the other end of the room!” Rainbow Dash protested.

“That don’t mean nothin’, Rainbow. Twi’s right, we shouldn’t be talking about her like this,” Applejack said. She looked back at them, and her eyes went wide. “What we should be doing is stopping Pinkie from attacking that poor guy again!”

“You know what I found out?” Pinkie Pie shouted. “That ‘cake’ rhymes with the first part of ‘cater!’”

“This won’t end well,” Twilight said.

“Nnnope,” Applejack concurred.





Fred was about to answer a question Rarity had asked when he caught a hot-pink mass closing in on him from the corner of his eye. “Oh no...seems your friend hasn’t had enough of me,” he said, immediately shifting his position where he and his future children could not be harmed.

(“Frederic is a total boss,” said Harpo. “He gets all the mares.”)

“Is that so?” asked Rarity. “Why don’t you sing a song about it, over there?” she pointed, directly at the other girls.

“Ooh! That sounds like a GREAT idea, Rarity! I’ll bet they don’t know that ‘cake’ rhymes with the first part of ‘cater!’” Pinkie said with glee, hopping off towards the girls.





“Oh geez, Rarity passed the buck!” Rainbow Dash said.

“Prepare yourselves...” Twilight said morosely. 

“Hey!” said Pinkie. “Oooooohhhhh we have a catering business, filled with all this cake! And you can come and try some, and start to bake, bake, bake!”

Rainbow Dash immediately started applauding. “That’s great! Great song!”

“But I wasn’t finished!”

“No, it’s perfect as is.”

“I agree, Pinkie. You were wonderful,” Fluttershy said with a soft smile.

“Uh, y-yeah...you were g-great sugarcube,” Applejack said, making a horrible cringing expression as she tried to lie through her teeth. Pinkie narrowed her eyes, boring straight through Applejack as she tried to decipher truth from fiction.

“Hmmmmm...you sure you guys liked it?” 

“Of course we did, isn’t that right girls?” Twilight said, nodding and giving the other girls an expression that read “go with it.” The other three nodded rapidly.

“Okay!” Pinkie said, her usual cheeriness returning almost as quickly as it had vanished. “OOH! They brought out even more cake!” Pinkie quickly hopped off to dig in, and the girls let out a collective sigh of relief. 

“That was waaaay too close,” Rainbow Dash said, crossing her forelegs over her chest.

“Yeah, I agree Rainbow Dash,” Applejack said. “C’mon, let’s go make sure Pinkie doesn’t assault the baker.” The girls all began to follow after Pinkie, Applejack stopping short to look back at Rarity. I hope you know what you’re doing, Rarity... she thought as she turned away to follow the others.





“Whew...what a relief,” Frederic said as he wiped sweat from his brow.

“Pinkie is one of my dearest friends, so I've learned how to handle her,” Rarity said with a small sigh. "Though there are still things I still can't quite pin down..."

“I do owe you one for that...” Frederic said. “...in fact, I intend to cash in on that debt. Didn’t you mention your sister’s birthday was coming up soon?”

“I did, why do you ask?”

“Well, are you throwing her a party?”

“Pinkie usually works out all the party-planning, but I do have one in mind, yes.”

“Do you have anything in mind for music?”

Rarity pondered this. “No, I don’t believe I do...” It then slowly dawned on her. “Oh Frederic, I couldn’t possibly ask you to perform at a filly’s birthday party!”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever played at a birthday party, but I suppose this once I can make an exception. Besides,” he chuckled, “I’ve done far more demeaning and painful tasks.”

“I can’t imagine what would be worse for an up-and-coming musician performance-wise than my baby sister’s party,” Rarity said.

“Try being an accompanist for a soprano with a voice like a bee,” Fred deadpanned.

“Oh dear...” Rarity winced. “I will admit– I prefer my sopranos sounding like ponies, I assure you.”

“Oh, the things we have to do to get by,” said Fred. “You got any horror stories?”

“Oh, sometimes I get the most dreadful requests.”

“Like what, for example?”

Rarity then proceeded to explain to him the one instance where all her friends requested dresses that were better fit for scarecrows (in her opinion), rather than the originals she herself came up with. Fred found himself resisting the urge to laugh at how ridiculous the revisions sounded.

“Oh, that is rich,” he said as he wiped a tear from his eye. “Galoshes? Really?”

“Oh, there was one worse than that– try a bird’s nest for a hat!” She laughed with a flick of her mane. “Of course, all’s well that ends well, and they learned to leave art to the artist.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Frederic said.

“Well, I must be going. It’s been absolutely lovely talking to you,” said Rarity, bowing out of the conversation.

“Indeed it has been,” Frederic said, nodding politely. Hm. What a lovely mare. For the first time in some time, Fred had actually forgotten what was ailing him...and it felt good.

Rarity was pleased as prim, proper punch that her stay in Canterlot was going so well – plenty of ponies that identified with her on matters of elegance and culture. Rarity rejoined the group, Applejack being the first to take notice.

“Hey Rarity. Was that a friend of your’s?” Applejack asked.

“Perhaps. I only just met the fellow a little while ago, but he’s really quite intelligent,” Rarity said. “A rare find nowadays.”

“That ain’t supposed to mean anything, does it?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Ahahahah, not at all, my dear Rainbow!” said Rarity. Applejack was forced to stifle a snicker.

“Nothin’ that ain’t already obvious,” Applejack added playfully. 

“‘Obvious?’ Wha–” Rainbow Dash asked. It then hit her like a sack of bricks. “HEY!”

Rarity gave a genuine laugh, even if it was at Rainbow Dash’s expense. She felt like a weight had been temporarily lifted off her shoulders, even if for a little while.

“I’m gonna get you for that,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Yes, I daresay I quite deserve some form of comeuppance.”

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” she said, grinning.

The party came to an end soon thereafter, every pony present having had a great time, including two in particular. 

> Chapter Three
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...Almost there,” Frederic said softly, taking slow and easy breaths.

“Yes, darling... do be gentle now. We don’t want any unwanted tears,” Rarity responded. Frederic stared into her sapphire eyes, using them as guidance through the process. “No worries, I am right here..”

“Is- is this okay?” Frederic asked, careful not to make any sudden moves.

“Simply marvelous, Frederic... I must say, this is rather surprising. I never expected this out of you,” she said, breathless.

“Well, if you like it, then I suppose this works,” Frederic said with a small smile. “Thank you again, Rarity. This has been quite the experience,” he said.

“Oh, it was no trouble at all, Frederic. You look absolutely dashing in your new suit,” Rarity said with a demure giggle. The pianist looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the charcoal suit.

“A fantastic fit,” said Frederic. “Not so tight it restricts movement, but not so loose that it gets... baggy.”

“Wonderful, darling! I’m so pleased it fits,” Rarity said as she began to remove the remaining pins from the sleeves and cuffs of the suit. “I admit, I wasn’t completely sure it’d work out. After all, I do often do dresses rather than suits. But still, one must cover all the basics.”

“I’d say this goes a little beyond basic,” said Frederic. “You sell yourself too short.”

Rarity blushed at the compliment. “Why Frederic, what a kind thing to say,” she said, very much humbled.

“Well, I think it’s earned. That is...” he paused. “I’ll remember to take it back if it suspiciously shrinks.”

“No worries dear, there will be no shrinkage here!” she said, giving a small laugh at her rhyme. “A friend of mine introduced me to a few spells that help with that. Spells that keep them from shrinking, or the colors from fading. I’m thinking of starting a new line of enchanted suits and dresses that conform to the wearer in case they gain or lose weight.”

“Hmm...” said Frederic. “But if they don’t need to buy new clothes after going on a diet, doesn’t that mean you sell less?”

“Mm, perhaps,” said Rarity. “But I think having happy, satisfied customers is more important than numbers sold.”

“That is a sentiment that is really rather rare nowadays. Generosity goes a long way, I think.” Frederic examined himself once more in the mirror, and gave a satisfied sigh. I wonder what Octavia- he caught himself before he finished that thought, trying to put it away from his mind. He was past that. He should have been past that.

“Something the matter, Frederic? You’re scowling,” Rarity asked, caught off-guard by the sudden change in Frederic’s expression.

“Hm?” asked Frederic. “Oh, nothing important.”

“If you’re sure... I just hope I wasn’t the cause,” Rarity asked, not entirely convinced.

“Oh, don’t be absurd,” said Frederic. “Just some trivial personal thing that popped into my head. Nothing wrong with anything you’re doing. So,” he cleared his throat. “How much for the suit?”

“I couldn’t possibly charge you when you agreed to play for Sweetie’s birthday,” Rarity said. 

“Well,” Frederic chuckled. “That’s a reasonable barter, then.”

The front door to the Boutique let out a small chime as another pony entered – however, this pony was much smaller than the rest. Sweetie Belle made her way to the back, setting down her things on the kitchen table.

“Rarityyy!” she called.

“Yes?” Rarity answered.

“Mom and Dad are out doing stuff, so they asked me to spend the afternoon here!”

Rarity chuckled. “Alright, go put your things in your room then come back downstairs. Once I’ve finished with Frederic, we’ll go have lunch!”

Sweetie Belle made her way over to where Frederic and Rarity stood, taking her spot at Rarity’s side. “Frederic, this is my younger sister, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said with a smile.

“Ooh, he’s handsome. Is he your new coltfriend Rarity?” Sweetie Belle asked, surprisingly interested in knowing the truth. 

“What?” Rarity laughed nervously. “Oh, Sweetie Belle.”

“No, just new acquaintances,” Frederic assured.

“From the mouths of babes, right?” Rarity said with a slightly unsettled laugh, trying to play off Sweetie’s comment.

“I’m flattered to be called ‘handsome,’ though.” He nodded to the filly. “Pleased to meet you, Sweetie Belle.”

“Darn! Rarity’s always talking about that weirdo Blueface or whatever his name is. I hear he’s a real jerk!” Sweetie Belle said, stamping a hoof and puffing her cheeks out.

Rarity chuckled a little nervously. “Sweetie Belle, why don’t you run along and get started on your homework. Frederic and I just need to finish up.”

“Aww, I didn’t wanna do homework...” said Sweetie Belle, sulking out of the room.

“Exes?” Frederic asked.

“Not quite...” Rarity said with a small sigh. “We met at the Gala. In case you were curious, she was talking about Prince Blueblood. He was a living nightmare, Frederic. Impolite, self-absorbed, indignant and irreverent to those around him. You were probably unconscious for this, but... he used me as a shield when the food started to fly,” she said, digging her hoof into the floor to restrain her anger.

“That’s... appalling,” Frederic said, looking to Rarity with a small wincing expression. “Well, good riddance, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “Actually glad he isn’t my ex. That’d imply there was ever a thing in the first place.”

“If I may speak candidly, a true stallion walks beside his mare, not before or after her. He loves unconditionally, speaks truthfully, and cares genuinely. At least, that is how my father raised me to be,” Frederic said.

“I’ll bet you’ve got one lucky mare,” said Rarity.

“Well...” said Frederic. “Not at the moment, no.”

Rarity’s ears perked slightly. “Oh? A shame... you’re a rare breed, Frederic,” she said as she adjusted the lapels on his jacket. “If you want, you can leave in your suit, or I can have this folded and hung for you. Whichever is more comfortable,” she said with a smile.

“I think I’d like it hung up,” said Frederic. “Can we put it in a bag? Wouldn’t want to get it dirty on my way out.”





Vinyl leaned against an outdoor table, her eyes almost shut from boredom. Octavia was browsing through a stack of old LP records while a blue stallion sat behind another table.

“Finding anything you like?” he asked.

“Oh, yes!” said Octavia.

“Eh,” said Vinyl. “Stick any of ‘em on a turntable and it makes scratches. All of ‘em the same.”

Octavia turned her head, her eyelids narrowed. “That’s just like you.” She snorted and produced one record. “There are some amazing gems here. Like this one, Baton’s violin concerto.”

“There are lots of violin concertos,” Vinyl dismissed. “What’s so special about this one?”

“This is an extremely rare recording,” said Octavia, hugging the record jacket close. “It’s been out of print for years.”

“Ohhh,” said Vinyl, nodding in mock understanding. “So basically it’s something super-obscure that nopony cares about.” She approached the bins herself. “Let’s see if they have something more interesting...”

She magically ruffled through the albums before floating two of them in front of her. “Ooh, tough choice – they have the Hoof Beats Red Album and The Mustangs Free Ride. What to choose, what to choose...”

“I thought you already had those two,” said Octavia.

“These are in a different format,” said Vinyl. “Sound quality’s different. Collection’s not complete without ‘em. Sides, you’re one to talk,” she snipped. “You’re the one who gets like five different recordings of whatever piece and they’re exactly the same.”

“They are not exactly the same,” Octavia protested. “They’re different renditions by different performances.”

“Ah yes, the most boring kind of cover,” said Vinyl.

“They are not ‘covers,’ Vinyl. They’re reproductions,” Octavia corrected. “They’re different renditions by musicians reinterpreting the music without fundamentally altering the composer’s intent.”

Vinyl snickered. “Reproduction...”

“That’s all you took from that, wasn’t it?” Octavia asked.

“Yup!” Vinyl said. Octavia shook her head. The two mares paid for their records, and made their way to the door. It was at that moment that Octavia caught sight of Frederic leaving the Carousel Boutique, a new suit in hoof.

“Oh, look,” said Vinyl. “Your robot stalker followed you.”

“Shush!” Octavia said, quickly hiding behind the nearest object suited to her size, peering at Frederic from behind it.

“Wait, so now you’re stalking him?” Vinyl mumbled. “How does this work? Mutually consenting restraining orders?”

“No, I’m trying to figure out why he would be leaving the Boutique with a new suit. We don’t have a performance coming up...” Octavia reasoned. She then tapped one hoof to the other. “He must be meeting somepony!”

“I guess. I mean, fancy suits and that sort of thing. It’s like lingerie for you stuffy types, right?”

Octavia looked back at her, an expression so stone-faced it could stop a train. Vinyl found no words that could have changed that expression, so she chose to remain silent.

The two mares continued to tail Frederic, the stallion making odd twists and turns through the town’s roads. Eventually, he came to a stop at a small apartment complex, retrieving his keys from his saddlebag. 

“This is fun,” said Vinyl. “We should’ve brought binoculars.” Vinyl then looked more closely at where exactly they were. “Hey... isn’t that where we live?”

Octavia’s jaw dropped. “You mean we’re neighbors and we never even knew!?”






Frederic’s head perked up, hearing a voice he knew all too well. “Was that Octavia just now?” he asked himself, looking around.

Octavia noticed this, and ducked both her and Vinyl’s head down into their hiding place.

“That was a little close...” Octavia said.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t yelled...” Vinyl pointed out. 





Frederic shrugged when he caught no sight of Octavia, but jumped slightly when he heard a yelp coming from a nondescript location. “...Must’ve been the wind...”

Vinyl rubbed her head, Octavia’s hoof shaking slightly. “You earned that one!”

“Ow, ow, ow! That smarts!” Vinyl said, shaking her head slightly.

“I can’t believe we’ve been neighbors... I’ve never seen him in our complex before,” Octavia said. “He must only stay here when we perform here,” she said. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“Oh, gee, you couldn’t have thought of that before you decided to knock my brain around a bit?” Vinyl asked.

“Vinyl, knocking your brain around requires you actually having a brain,” she said with a small smirk.

“Is that why you say I’m ‘bucking your brai-’” Vinyl would have completed her sentence had a hoof not stuffed itself in her mouth. 

“Just shut up,” Octavia said, unable to control the wild blush that had sprouted on her face. Vinyl, satisfied, just grinned silently.





Frederic shrugged, heading up the stairs to his apartment. He fiddled with the keys for a moment, then entered, hanging up his new suit in the closet near the front door. He made his way into the kitchen, and retrieved a bottle of his favorite scotch, Dew Mares, setting it on the counter. He gently picked up the high-ball glass that he kept in the cupboard, and placed a few ice-cubes in it. The scotch poured a thick golden-brown in the glass – just like he liked. He carried the glass over to his recliner, and sat down, taking a drink. The thick oak flavor of the scotch swirled in his mouth, going down smoother than silk. Fred gave a contented sigh, feeling warmth fill his stomach. “Celestia bless those Scolts...” he said, raising his glass and taking another swig.

“I wonder if Rarity drinks scotch...” He mused to himself.


> Chapter Four
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frederic’s early morning practice routine ended when a knock arrived at the door. Conveniently, it had ended right as he’d finished the movement. Courteous of them, he thought. He closed the piano book he was reading from and got up, moving for the door.

When he opened the door, he saw two very familiar mares standing in front of him.

“Good morning,” said Octavia.

“Yo,” said Vinyl.

“Oc...” Frederic said. “How’d you know I was here?” His eyes narrowed. “Harpo probably told you, I figured.”

“We stalked you,” Vinyl said bluntly. When Octavia’s hoof collided with the back of her head, she changed her tune. “We actually live down the hall,” she said, rubbing the back of her head.

“We saw you walking home from the Carousel Boutique, but didn’t want to bother you,” Octavia said, casting a rather unpleasant sideward glance at Vinyl.

“That explains the cello music,” Frederic mused. “Odd I didn’t pick up on that.”

“Then you must’ve heard when we-” Vinyl started, but stopped when Octavia quite literally threw her weight on Vinyl’s upper half.

“Thankfully not...” he muttered.

Once the squabble had ended, Octavia having regained her composure, she looked at Frederic. “Would it be alright if we came in? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about,” she said.

“Um,” Frederic said. “Sure, sure, of course.” He stood aside and gestured to let them inside. “By all means...” His face, however, was a little perplexed.

The two mares sat on the couch across from Frederic, who took his spot in his recliner. A few tense moments passed, and Vinyl gave a small groan.

“Look, Octy knows you–” Vinyl started, but stopped when Octavia shook her head. She read the signs, and fell silent.

“I know, Frederic,” Octavia said carefully.

“Excuse me?” asked Frederic. “I don’t understand what you–”

“I know about your... feelings for me,” she said, dropping the bomb squarely on Frederic’s lap.

Frederic sat there in silence, his expression not betraying anything. “Am I that obvious, or did Harpo tell you?”

“Harpo may or may not have opened my eyes to it...”

“Remind me to rearrange his harp strings.”

“Look, the reason we’re here is because we wanna help. While it’s cool you have the hots for Octy – I mean, she’s hot stuff – you gotta move on, buddy. She’s spoken for,” Vinyl said.

“Get to the point, Vinyl,” Octavia reminded.

“Right, right. The point is, is we’re gonna help you get over Octavia, and by ‘get over’ I mean we’re gonna take you clubbing and maybe help you mingle with some of the other mares in town,” Vinyl said.

Frederic tilted his head. “‘Clubbing’?” he asked dubiously.

Vinyl looked at Octavia. “This guy for real?”

“The three of us will go out, and we’ll introduce you to a new mare,” said Octavia. “It’ll be fun.”

“Promise me one thing, though- lighten up,” Vinyl said. “Mares like a nice smile."

Frederic tried to put on a forced smile, and both mares winced. 

“N-not quite like that, but hey, it's progress...” Vinyl said. Frederic noticed that both mares had the same shocked, unsettled expressions and quickly returned to his normal expression.

I'm doomed, he thought. “Well, this is an... interesting way for the day to start,” said Frederic.

“Admittedly there was... no real easy way to say this,” confessed Octavia. “We just decided we’d best come out and say it.”

Vinyl then got up. “Sorry bud, I know it's tough,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry though, we’re gonna set you up with somepony you’ll fall head over hooves for! Like, totally hot stuff.”

“It's not all about appearances, Vinyl..." Octavia added.

“Oh, right, yeah,” Vinyl said as she made her way to the door. “C’mon Octy, we gotta get down to the sound equipment store. They just released some new bass cabs I wanna test out,” she said.

“See you later, Frederic,” said Octavia. “We can pick you up at six?”

“Seven would be more convenient...” Frederic said, his voice not giving any sense of certainty about the proceedings. “If you don’t receive an answer when you knock... try forcing the door open, as I’m probably refusing to answer,” he said sardonically.

“Kick the door down. Got it,” Vinyl said.





“Just a little more... come on,” Rarity said softly, straining her eyes through her glasses as she focused intently on threading a needle, but the thread had decided that today it would not follow instruction. It was sadly just the tiniest bit frayed at the end. Sighing, she brought it up to her mouth, licked it, and then moved to line it up with the eye of the needle again. Just as she finally managed to get the thread through, the door to the Boutique swung open with all the force of a galestorm. Three young fillies barged through it, laughing and shouting as they rushed up the stairs, scaring the living daylights out of Rarity, who had jumped three feet and losing the thread and needle.

“What in Equestria-” Rarity said, breathless as she clutched her heart.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Rares. You know how excitable the girls are when they get together,” Applejack said as she walked in, careful to wipe her hooves on the mat. Rainbow Dash followed her in, looking around at some of Rarity’s new dresses.

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” asked Rarity.

“We heard the girls talking,” Rainbow Dash said with a knowing smile.

“Talking about what, darling?” Rarity asked.

“Oh, you know,” Rainbow Dash said, prodding the subject a little more.

“Nooo...” said Rarity. “I really don’t think I do.”

“What Dash is tryin’ to say is, we heard Sweetie talkin’ to Bloom and Scoots about how that Frederic fella came by yesterday,” Applejack explained. “She was hootin’ and hollerin’ about how he was a real fancy fella with a nice smile and even nicer manners,” she repeated.

“Him?” asked Rarity. “He came by to try on a suit. I don’t see how that has Sweetie Belle excited. He is polite, though.”

“She’s dead-set on him being your coltfriend,” Rainbow said, her tail flicking slightly. “So? What’s the story on this guy? When are we gonna meet him? I gotta see if he’s worth his salt-lick,” she said.

“I don’t know,” said Rarity. “He’ll be playing for Sweetie Belle’s birthday party,” she said. “I guess it’s good that she likes him in that case. But aside from that I couldn’t say.”

Applejack blanched slightly. “...Y’all did remind him that Pinkie’s organizin’ the party... right?”

“I...” Rarity paused. “Oh dear...”

“He’ll be fine,” Rainbow said, waving it off. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s a birthday party for a filly,” she said.

“Well, them Canterlot types aren’t always the sort to go with Pinkie Pie’s tastes,” said Applejack.

“He survived last time, didn’t he?” Rainbow pointed out, folding her forelegs over her chest. “If he did it once, he can do it again.”

“I’d prefer there not be a repeat incident, seeing as I’d like to have him actually come back and visit sometime,” Rarity said, catching herself a moment later. “Y-you know, to try on more suits...”

“Riiiiight, whatever you say, Rarity,” Rainbow Dash said with a smile.

“Well, we best be headin’ out,” said Applejack.

“Right behind ya,” Rainbow Dash said, following her out, leaving Rarity alone to her thoughts as the girls played upstairs.





“You owe me a new door.”

“You told us to do it!” Vinyl protested.

“I was being facetious!” Frederic huffed, looking ahead of him at the club. He wondered if he’d be able to feel the ground shaking. “You know, when I think ‘bass’ I think of opera singers who play comic relief parts, or tubas, or bassoons, or continuo parts, not…”


WUMP! WUMP! WUMP!


“Yeah,” said Frederic. “I’ll just pretend that counts as ostinato.”

“Now's not the time to make up words, Fred! I need your head in the game!” Vinyl said.

“Vinyl, ostinato is a real-” Octavia started.

"Okay Fred, I need to see if you can act cool, try and blend in with today's crowd," Vinyl said, ignoring Octavia altogether.

“Wait, wait, I can blend in,” said Frederic. He slumped against the wall. “‘Yo’ and ‘wazzup’ and all that. I’m down and stuff. Fo’ shizzle.”

Vinyl's eye twitched. "You know what? Mares like it when stallions be themselves," she said.

“Just be yourself and you'll be the talk of the town,” Octavia reassured.

"You got this, Fred, now let's knock 'em dead!" Vinyl said with a smile, and with that marched the way forward to the door.

Frederic and Octavia followed, the heavy beat overwhelming their ears before they even stepped inside. Frederic felt himself tense when the heavy bass allowed him to feel where exactly in his chest his heart sat, wondering for a moment if he was about to die. When he didn’t, he shook away his concerns and focused on the task at hand- to find a mare that was more beautiful than Octavia, more suave than Octavia… more desirable than Octavia… He then shook his head violently to clear his head, and waited for Vinyl to guide his next move.

Vinyl looked back, seeing that Frederic was still among them. "Look at you, you're already inside and you haven't panicked! Bonus points!"

“WHAT?” shouted Frederic over the noise.

“SHE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT STAYING INSIDE!” Octavia said, yelling as well. 

“WHAT ABOUT GETTING A RIDE? I THOUGHT I WAS WITH YOU TWO!”

“NOW'S NOT THE TIME TO HIDE, YOU NEED TO JUST KEEP CALM!”

Vinyl rolled her eyes, having been reminded that while she loved Octavia dearly, she only had a minimal amount more experience in clubs than Frederic did. “Alright,” she said, moving on. “Where to go from here?”

“HOW CAN YOU SEE?” shouted Frederic. “IT’S ALL BLACK WITH SPOTS OF COLORS!”

“I THINK THE SECRET IS CARROTS,” shouted Octavia. “AND GLOWSTICKS.”

“Y’know what? Just stay here—as in ‘don’t move.’ I’m going to get us some drinks,” Vinyl said. 

How can anypony survive in an environment like this? Frederic asked himself as he looked around. All around him, ponies were moving and dancing and drinking and talking to themselves in loud voices that melded together into a single constant blob of sound over which the club music blasted at top volume. Frederic found himself feeling sorry for the speakers. But mostly he was sorry for himself. What am I doing here…? Can I really find another mare here?’ he asked himself. I am so far out of my element, I can barely hear myself think, and the mare I want but can’t have is standing so close to me my heart is ready to explode! Whatever zany scheme Vinyl has in mind…

Vinyl, meanwhile, had approached the counter. The bartender, a skinny goth of a stallion, turned and greeted her.

“Well, lookie who’s here!” he said. “Was great to have you here last week!”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Vinyl said with a smirk. “I keep coming back here ‘cause the booze alone is worth the price of admission,” she said. “I’ll have a sour apple martini, extra cherries, my marefriend will take scotch on the rocks…” she then looked back at Frederic. “...a cherry soda for him,” she said.

The stallion looked over. “Ohhh,” he said. “Maestro Killjoy?”

“Hey, he's not such a bad guy,” she said, defending Frederic. “Poor guy's trying to get over some other filly and we’re helping him out by having him mingle a bit,” she said.

“If anything, he may get preyed on here, not hit on. The mares here are pretty vicious. Somepony like him’ll be a prime target,” he warned.

“We've just gotta keep a close eye on him,” said Vinyl. "Thanks for the drinks," she said.

"No prob, come on back when you're ready for the next round," he said.

She carried the drinks back to the group. Octavia was relatively composed, though Frederic seemed to keep looking over his shoulder as though frightened somepony was about to shank him.

“Alright, everypony,” said Vinyl. “Drink up!”

“Thank you,” said Frederic, raising his glass of cherry soda, taking a sip. He paused. “Cherry soda?”

“Yeah, I didn't really know what you liked," Vinyl said.

"I'm no child, Vinyl, I do know how to drink," Frederic said, brushing past her and making his way to the bar.

"Should we be letting him drink?" Vinyl asked.

"I've never seen him drink before in my life," Octavia admitted.





Octavia and Vinyl couldn’t believe their eyes. Frederic was on his fourth drink and had loosened up considerably, to the point he had caught the attention of two rather attractive mares who were now clinging to his sides like wings on a pegasus.

“I LOVE YOUR MANE!” one of them shouted. “IT’S LIKE RETRO!”

“YOU’RE SO SUAVE,” the other added. “I LOVE GUITAR-”

“Piano, dear…” said Frederic, slurring through a confident grin.

“-PIANO PLAYERS!” she giggled, pushing up against him.

"Vinyl, we should step in, those mares don't look very... wholesome," Octavia said

"No no, he needs to learn," Vinyl said with a small smile.

"Vinyl!" Octavia said forcefully.

"Fine, fine, we'll go save him," Vinyl said.

Before they could intervene, something amazing then occurred—Frederic drunkenly clambered up onto the table, undoing his tie and ruffling his mane. “I LOVE TO PARTAAAAAAY!” The crowd erupted and the DJ kicked up the beat, the normally-reserved stallion proceeding to dance on the table with his new consorts.

“Celestia?” asked Octavia, standing in numb shock. “Please forgive me. For everything.”

“Oh sweet Celestia, somepony take a picture, a video, anything!” Vinyl gasped, laughing herself nearly to the point of tears. She herself was already a few shades to the wind, so she was of no help to Octavia. The bartender from before, who had recently gotten off-shift, watched the scene as he made his way to the exit.

“Wow, I didn't think the guy had it in him," the stallion said, turning and leaving.

"I never knew Frederic was such a party animal when he gets drunk!" Vinyl said with a smile.

"This can't end well..." Octavia said.

> Chapter Five
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia sat at the kitchen table, her eyes wide, a cup of coffee wafting white fumes before her face.

“I saw a world that has no law,” she said. “A world that has no… order. No rules. No concept of the word ‘enough.’”

“Yeah, so did Fred, and boy, did he drink deep from that cup,” Vinyl said with a chuckle. “Think he’s still at the bar? Or did he manage to make his way home?” she wondered aloud, sipping her cup of coffee, the words hanging a little heavier in the air than she expected.

“I talked to those mares,” she said flatly. “They said they’d help him to his apartment. He seemed… drunk.”

“He wasn’t drunk, Octy… he was sloshed,” Vinyl pointed out. “You can be drunk and still be at the very least a little coherent. Our boy Fred didn’t know which way was up by the time we left,” she said frankly.

“We should check his apartment,” said Octavia. “See if he’s alright, and help him with what I’m sure is a massive hangover.”

“If he’s even still conscious… but yeah, that’s a good idea Octy,” Vinyl said, finishing her coffee and stretching before standing up.

They left their apartment and headed towards his. To their surprise, the door was just opening as they arrived, and one of two mares from the night before emerged, one of them with a very messy mane.

“Oh,” said Octavia. “Excuse me, but is Frederic okay?” she asked.

“‘Frederic’? Who’s ‘Frederic’?” she asked, confused, tilting her head to the side as if to drive home the fact that she was confused.

“Stallion,” said Vinyl. “Plays the piano. Had a neat manecut, but can’t tell how old he is ‘cause it’s all white.”

“You were dancing with him?” asked Octavia. “Last night?”

“Ohhhh, him,” she said, snickering slightly. “Oh, he’s just fine,” she said in a sultry, thick voice. She lead them inside, up to a door. “See for yourself,” she said, pushing the door open. What awaited Vinyl and Octavia was something neither of them would forget. The other mare was laying in bed with him, a foreleg draped across his chest. What had really gotten the mares’ attention, was the lengthy mass slightly south that seemed to reach quite a distance up Frederic’s torso.

“No way…” Vinyl said, a small smile creeping across her face. “There’s no way that that’s his,” she said.

Octavia’s eyes were fixated on the object, small, nearly inaudible sounds escaping from her open mouth. Frederic stirred, his eyes slowly opening and taking in his surroundings.

“Ugh… my head…” he groaned, struggling to sit up. He finally made his way up, the covers shifting aside and revealing what was beneath. Vinyl and Octavia’s eyes widened, Vinyl giving a small wolf-whistle.

“Wow, I was wrong,” Vinyl said with a laugh. 

“Coulda toldja,” said the mare.

Frederic blinked at the light. “Oh… morning…” he said. “Octavia. Vinyl.” He looked at the other two mares blankly. “I forget…” He looked at the expressions on the two mares’ faces and blinked. “What issit?” he asked. Then he looked down and just stared for a second. Then his eyes shot wide and he gasped, pulling the cover over.

“I gotta say Fred, if I wasn’t into mares, I’d be very interested,” Vinyl said. Octavia’s face was glowing a deep shade of red, unable to process what her eyes had just taken in. Vinyl looked over. “Hey, Octy, you gonna be okay there?”

“I… I… need a moment…” she stammered, making her way out the door. Frederic’s face flushed a deep red. Vinyl could see Frederic needed a little privacy, so she took control of the situation.

“Alright ladies, you’ve had your fun, or… were about to… either way, time to skedaddle,” Vinyl said, ushering them out. They tried to resist, but Vinyl got the better of them and forced them out with magic. Vinyl shut the door to his bedroom, sitting in the chair across from his bed. “So, have fun last night?”

“I… don’t remember,” said Frederic.

“Well, maybe that’s better for you in the long run. You didn’t really meet anypony aside from those floozies, and they’re not the type of fillies you take home to mom. You got pretty tossed there, bub. Still,” she said, smiling. “This does provide us some useful information.”

“I have a splitting headache,” said Frederic, rubbing his head, “so pardon me if I don’t follow.”

“I can help with that,” Vinyl said. She stood up and moved into his bathroom, grabbing a little cup on his sink and filling it with cool water. She brought it to Fred and passed it over to him. When he began to drink, she used her magic to massage his temples to relieve a bit of the pressure. “I’ve been drunk more than a few times in my life, so this little trick is pretty useful. Drink more water throughout the day, too. The headache is actually caused because you’re dehydrated,” she said rather astutely, surprising Frederic a bit.

“Well,” said Frederic, taking a sip. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vinyl responded. “You’re a good friend of Octy’s, so you’re a friend of mine too,” she said, nudging his shoulder with a hoof. “You just keep drinking,” said Vinyl. “I’ll go check up on Octavia. See how she’s coping with the trauma.” Frederic flushed a little. “Hey, relax, I’m just joking.”

Vinyl left Frederic to his water and went out to where Octavia was standing, taking deep breaths.

“Hey hun, you alright?” Vinyl asked.

“I’m fine,” said Octavia.

“No reason to be flustered,” said Vinyl. “I mean, you did have the talk with your parents when you were a foal, right?”

“Of course I did! I just didn’t expect to see Frederic’s…” Octavia said, frowning and blushing all at once.

“Look at you, you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” Vinyl cooed.

“Shut up! I’m not flustered! I am a full-grown mare, not a filly!” Octavia stated as firmly as her current state of mind would allow.

“I’m just saying, Octy,” said Vinyl, “it’s a perfectly natural part of a stallion’s existence. Anyway, he’s nursing his hangover and I think he’ll be fine, long as he keeps hydrated.”

“Well, that’s good at least. Rather, that’s better news, because those mares were fairly upset. They were grumbling about how they ‘didn’t even get any’, whatever that means…” Octavia said.

Vinyl sighed, shaking her head slightly. “That’s our Frederic…” 

Frederic emerged from the bedroom, draped in a bathroom and carrying his cup of water. “Well,” he said. “Good morning. I, uh…” His eyes shifted. “I should probably take a shower.”

“Probably a good idea,” Vinyl said. “Your room reeks of booze and two-bit fillies, so yeah, go get yourself cleaned up,” she said.

“Are you… feeling alright?” Octavia asked.

“Well, I’m sure I will,” said Frederic, taking a sip. “So anyway,” he said, turning to Vinyl, “you said ‘useful information’?”

Octavia raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” said Vinyl. “Well, I just figure…” She shrugged and smiled. “You almost managed to score a threesome. That’s progress, even if nothing happened.” Frederic stood in awkward silence. “So hey, shouldn’t be too hard from here.”

Octavia turned a bright shade of pink at the word “hard” and averted her eyes, staring at her hooves, to which Frederic did the same.

“Oh come on, am I really the only mature one of us here?” Vinyl said, exasperated. “Anywho, Octy and I have nothing important going on today, so I figure maybe we’ll take you around town. Maybe a pretty mare will catch your eye along the way,” she offered. “I mean, clubbing isn’t your thing. I can respect that. Show’s you’ve got what Octavia calls ‘class.’ And lots of mares like that. I think.” There was a pause. “You know, the awkward silence isn’t helping.”

It was at that point a cold feeling of panic seeped into Frederic’s mind. “Oh dear… I forgot I have an appointment in Ponyville today!” Frederic said, scrambling towards the bathroom to hit the shower.

Vinyl looked at Octavia. “So, all in all, I think this was a success.”





“Rainbow Dash, please help Applejack hang the banner over near the ceiling over there, the house needs to be perfect for when Sweetie returns!” Rarity ordered, busily working at organizing her things and putting them away for the surprise party.

“Right, got it,” said Rainbow Dash, “on the ceiling over there, as opposed to on the floor over here.”

Rarity shot Rainbow Dash a look that could have melted steel, causing both Dash and Applejack to wince. 

“One thing Granny always taught me, Dash, is ‘if’n yer lookin’ fer sass, watch out or it’ll bite ya on the—” 

“Applejack, focus!” Rarity barked. Applejack stopped mid-sentence, noticing she was about to lose her balance on the ladder.

“Thanks, Rarity,” Applejack said, regaining her posture and setting the banner back in place while Rainbow Dash nailed it to the wall. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Oh, wonderful!” said Rarity. “That must be Pinkie Pie here with the party wagon!”

Rainbow Dash watched as Rarity trotted off towards the front door. “She’s… really going all out on this, isn’t she?” she asked.

“You’d understand if you had a sister,” said Applejack.

“Maaaaaaybe,” said Rainbow Dash, narrowing her eyes with just the slightest skeptic squint.

Rarity opened the door and in burst Pinkie Pie with the remaining decorations.

“I’ve got suppliiiiiiiiies!” Pinkie sang in her typical shrill soprano voice. Rarity felt a slight ringing in her ears, but smiled nonetheless.

“So I see,” said Rarity, looking over the contents of the wagon. “So glad you could make it. You don’t know how much I appreciate your help.”

“I know, right?” asked Pinkie Pie. “Things would be soooo much easier if I could read minds!”

Rainbow Dash went to open her mouth, but Applejack stopped her dead in her tracks. 

“Don’t even,” Applejack stated flatly. “I don’t need to remind y’all how messy that can a’worms got,” she said, Rainbow Dash nodding in agreement.

“Right… forgot about that…” Rainbow Dash said quietly, going back to her work.

“So anyway, I got the usual necessities…” said Pinkie Pie, pointing to the contents of the wagon. “Emergency bobbing apples, backup pin-the-tail-on-the-pony supplies, second pinata in case the first one is a little too offensive…”

“Why would the first one be offensive?” Rarity asked, somewhat confused.

“If you have a donkey guest it might make things a little awkward…” Pinkie whispered.

“Hmm.. I suppose I hadn’t thought of that… good thinking, Pinkie,” Rarity said, nodding. “Now where are Twilight and Fluttershy? They said they’d be here to set up the petting zoo!”

“I dunno,” said Pinkie with a big exaggerated shrug. “Maybe Angel broke his leg. Or maybe Spike broke his leg. Or maybe they broke each others’ legs.” She leaned in a little. “They don’t like each other that much…”

“Oh dear, I hope not!” Rarity gasped, the anxiety catching up with her. “Sweetie’s been such a good little filly lately and I really would like to reward her for it! She deserves this!”

“Rarity, relax,” said Applejack, coming up and giving her a pat on the back. “We’re not in any rush. Her birthday isn’t until the afternoon. I’m sure there aren’t any broken legs. They’re just running a little late.”

“Yes… when you’re right, you’re right Applejack,” Rarity said, taking a deep breath and composing herself. The poor mare looked a bit frazzled, having worked at a break-neck pace since the other fillies had come to pick Sweetie up for their weekly Crusader meeting.

“Just take a deep breath and calm down. Maybe have a cup of tea and let us handle the rest of the decorations.”

“I couldn’t let you all do the work! What kind of friend would I be—” Rarity was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Um… Rarity? Could you please open the door…?” a soft voice beckoned from the other side.

“Oh, splendid! That must be Fluttershy and Twilight!” Rarity said, perking up.

Rarity opened the door, and in walked Twilight with Fluttershy, leading a small assortment of different animals ranging from rabbits to squirrels to birds and pretty much any other woodland creature a pony could imagine.

“Fluttershy!” said Pinkie Pie. “Good thing Angel didn’t break his leg, huh?”

“Um…” said Fluttershy. “I don’t—”

“Don’t ask,” muttered Rainbow Dash, cutting her off with with a held-up hoof. Fluttershy merely nodded, keeping her comment to herself.

“Just set up the zoo area over there, darling, I made space for them,” Rarity said.

“Thanks… are you okay? You look really worn out,” Twilight said, voicing her concern over the frazzled appearance Rarity had.

“Are you… sure you’re okay with having a bunch of animals in your house?” asked Rainbow Dash, looking at the critters as they marched single-file through the room. “It doesn’t seem like you.”

“Oh, nonsense, Rainbow Dash,” said Rarity. “That’s what hired help is for, and yes, Twilight, I’m fine if not a bit tired,” she said, giving a small smile. She then looked around the room and took account of everything that had been brought in for the party. “Excellent, everything seems to be moving smoothly… now all we need is that gentlecolt that said he’d play the piano and we’re right on track!”

“You hired a piano player?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“The term is ‘pianist’,” Rarity corrected, “and I didn’t necessarily hire him. He actually volunteered because I made a suit for him. He looked rather dashing in it, truthfully…” she said, trailing off.

“Ooookay,” said Rainbow Dash. Suddenly, a sly smile spread across her face. “Wait… is this the same stallion we were bugging you about the other day? The one at the party?” she asked.

Rarity flushed slightly, but raised her chin indignantly. “So what if it is? We are simply acquaintances, so please stop grasping at straws,” she stated firmly.

“You know you’re blushing… right?” Rainbow Dash said, eliciting a giggle from the other mares. Rarity’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, causing her to growl in frustration.

“Ooooh, why must you tease me so!?” Rarity said, exasperated.

“Hey, it’s nothing,” said Rainbow Dash. “Just make sure you tell us if he’s as boring as that hippy who talked on and on about soy.”

Rarity’s expression changed entirely.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Rarity said flatly. “All you need to be talking about is where Applejack needs your help! Go on!”

“Fine, fine,” said Rainbow Dash, turning. “Hey, Applejack, where do the balloons go?”

“Away from them baboons,” said Applejack. “I trust ‘em about as far I can throw ‘em…”

The two of them gave a look over at a menacing-looking gang of monkeys.

“Are you sure it was okay to bring them? I’m pretty sure Rarity would have a heart attack if anything went wrong with this party...” Twilight asked as she saw the exchange.

“Don’t worry Twilight, I’ll make sure they behave,” Fluttershy nodded demurely, casting a single harsh eye towards the baboons, immediately setting them straight.

Rarity took a deep breath and exhaled, watching the others do their tasks as assigned. 

“I do hope he arrives on time…” Rarity said to herself.


***


“I’m hung-over,” said Frederic.

“Come on, you’re not hung-over,” said Vinyl.

“I’m hung-over and I’m supposed to be playing for a filly’s birthday party.”

“You were hung-over and the party’s just far enough away that you’ll be fine by the time it happens,” Vinyl reassured.

The three of them walked down the road. Frederic had a dead look in his eyes, occasionally slipping a hoof through his mane as though worried it either wasn’t neat or wasn’t there. “Can’t do that night before a gig,” he said. “What happens if my hooves get shaky?”

“Just as a quick reminder, you were the one who went hooves first into drinking last night,” said Vinyl. “Though you do seem like you’re a heck of a lot more fun under the influence,” she said with a small chuckle.

Frederic went silent for a moment. “I’ll take your word for that,” he muttered.

“Vinyl, please, I think he’s been antagonized enough,” Octavia said, coming to Frederic’s defense.

“Sorry, dahling,” said Vinyl in a faux-diva tone. “I’m sure this thing you’re doing today will be fine. You just brush off your five easy pieces and the foals will love it! If you’ve got the chops to play in front of hundreds of ponies at one time, you can handle a foal’s party.”

“I do have to admit, Frederic,” said Octavia, “this is hardly the most demanding of audiences.”

Frederic rolled his eyes. “I don’t think much of performers who are condescending to children.”

Vinyl squinted. “...I dunno what ‘condescend’ means, but that sounded offensive.”

“It means talking down to somepony,” Octavia explained.

“Oh,” Vinyl said thoughtfully. “Hey! I love foals!” she exclaimed, the statement finally registering in her head. “I also didn’t mean what I said in a bad way. I meant that you shouldn’t worry ‘cause you’ve got the skills to get the job done,” she said

“I’m sure that the foals will be delighted with whatever you play. Who knows? You may even inspire somepony.”

“Yeah, like me! I mean, heck, I stand behind my tables and ponies practically throw themselves at me,” Vinyl said haughtily.

“If by ‘throw themselves at you’, you really mean ‘try to run you out of town’, then I absolutely agree,” Octavia said.

“Well, I get a reaction, and that’s all that matters,” Vinyl said with a shrug. Vinyl then gave it some thought. “Wait… this is actually a golden opportunity for Fredboy!”

The two other ponies turned to look at her. “What do you mean?” Octavia asked.

“Think about it! There’s gonna be a bunch of foals there, right? Well, some of them are gonna be accompanied by parents for sure, so maybe you can make one of the single moms swoon over you with your golden hooves!” Vinyl explained.

Frederic raised an eyebrow. “Uhhhhhh, I’d rather focus on one thing at a time.”

“That’s your problem,” said Vinyl. “You get tunnel vision. You need to start looking for opportunities even when you’re not looking for them.”

“That sentence is literally self-contradictory,” muttered Frederic.

“You’re self-contradictory,” Vinyl shot back.

“Enough,” Octavia said, intervening before Vinyl had the opportunity to take it to another level. “For now, let Frederic focus on his performance at the party and afterward we can continue playing match-maker,” she said.

“Y’know, now that I think about it, I’m curious. Whose birthday are you playing for?” Vinyl asked.

“Her name’s Sweetie Belle, I believe,” said Frederic. “She’s the younger sister of Rarity, the proprietess of Carousel Boutique.”

Octavia froze at hearing the name “Rarity” escape Frederic’s mouth. “Rarity!?” she exclaimed. “Now I know why you are so nervous!” she said, frantically looking Frederic over and adjusting him to fix his appearance.

“Woah, woah, Octy, what bit you on the rump?” Vinyl asked, shocked at her marefriend’s sudden outburst.

“You do not understand how big this is, Vinyl. Rarity is a close friend of Twilight Sparkle, the apprentice of Princess Celestia herself, not to mention the Element of Generosity!” Octavia explained.

“Yes, I read the news,” said Frederic.

“Woah, that’s a pretty big gig if you ask me… wait a second, I remember her! She hired me for a set once. Nice mare, if a bit on the huffy side...” Vinyl said. She then thought in silence for a moment. “I wonder if any of the Elements are single…? Hoo boy, this is gonna be like a smorgasbord for you, Fred!”

“I’m not thinking about getting a date!”

“With what you’ve got under the hood, you’re not gonna have to!” Vinyl laughed.

“We don’t have to talk about that...” muttered Octavia, flushing slightly.

“No we do not…” said Frederic.

“Pfft,” said Vinyl. “You two are so…” She made a vague motion with her hoof.

“Modest?”

“Decent?”

“Sparing in personal details?”

“Prudish,” Vinyl said with a smirk.

Frederic sighed and rolled his eyes. He was too tired for a comeback.

Vinyl waited for the snappy remark, though it never came. She felt a slight sinking feeling after seeing the uncomfortable expression on Frederic’s face. “Hey…  I’m sorry. Just trying to, you know, lighten the mood,” she said, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof. 

“It’s fine,” said Frederic. “Just… blech. No drinking the night before a performance.”

“That blame falls on us for letting you,” Octavia said. “Regardless, what’s done is done. I’m certain you’ll perform as splendidly as you usually do Frederic,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah,” said Vinyl, patting him on the back. “Just relax, smile, and twinkle all over those keys.”

“I’m not sure that’s an appropriate wording…” said Frederic.

“You know what I meant.”

The three ponies hired a carriage, making their way to the Carousel Boutique. In the silence of their ride, Frederic’s mind had wandered onto other things, though one continued to plague him. The stallion found himself in a bit of an awkward position—the carriage they took was rather small and Vinyl had decided to “marespread” in her seat across from himself and Octavia. 

Well, that’s unlady-like, he thought to himself.

Frederic found her seeming lack of self-awareness a little off-putting, and decided that looking in Vinyl’s direction was no longer on his list of things to keep himself occupied. This left Frederic very aware of the fact that he was in unsettlingly close proximity to the mare he pined for. The familiar scent of her lilac perfume gently wafted from her coat, filling his senses.

Focus, Frederic… you have a performance in a little while, you don’t have time to... he thought to himself, subtly shaking his head to clear his mind. He glanced over at Octavia, the mare gently outlined by the sun, the soft light giving her an almost ethereal glow. His heart began to race and his hooves began to grow clammy. Oh, come on! he thought, giving a small sigh.

“Something the matter, Frederic?” Octavia asked, shifting over to look at him.

“Um…” he said. “Just… uh… Nothing. Kind of claustrophobic.”

“Really?” asked Vinyl.

“Yes,” said Frederic. “It all happened when I was a foal and someone shoved me in the top of an upright.”

“How terrible! How long were you trapped in there for?” Octavia asked, having never heard Frederic make any mention of being claustrophobic. Her ear twitched, signalling her curiosity, a quirk of hers that Frederic found to be absolutely adorable. His heart skipped a beat, but outwardly he refused to express it.

“I-I don’t know,” said Frederic, stammering slightly. “There, uh, wasn’t a clock inside.”

“Geez, you should have told me, I’d have given you my seat,” Vinyl said. “Here, let’s switch.” The unicorn then got up and attempted to switch seats with Frederic.

“Um, Vinyl, I don’t think you should be standing while the carriage is in motion—” Octavia started. The carriage hit a bump in the road, and suddenly Vinyl found herself upside down where Frederic was sitting before, Frederic being forced to his side and practically on top of Octavia, their faces mere inches from each other. Frederic’s heart about beat itself out of his chest, his mind unable to comprehend whether it was luck or fate that he found himself so close to her.

“Owww…” Vinyl muttered, rubbing her head as she tried to straighten herself out. “I knew we should’ve gotten a carriage with a bigger booth...”

“Um… Frederic… if you could…” Octavia said, her voice barely above a whisper, her face a deep red from embarrassment.

“I…” Frederic blinked. “Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” Frederic said, bolting upright and sitting across from the mares. 

“It—it’s alright, it wasn’t your fault,” Octavia reassured, recomposing herself.

“Did I miss something?” Vinyl asked, curious.

“Nope,” Octavia and Frederic answered in unison.

“If you say so…” Vinyl said, shrugging it off. The carriage then came to a stop.

“We have arrived at the Carousel Boutique!” the carriage driver said from outside. Frederic checked his watch to see what time it was.

Just in time… he thought, noticing the party was scheduled to begin in only a little while.

“Oh, great, we’re here! Let me get out first,” Octavia said, immediately heading for the carriage door. She exited the carriage and trotted a few paces away, taking a deep breath of the fresh air and clearing her head. Just what I needed… she thought. Frederic took note of Octavia’s reaction.

He shook his head and started dusting his shoulders off. Simple stuff. Go in, play piano for the little fillies, have some of that non-alcoholic fruit punch, and that’d be that. Vinyl approached Frederic, standing in front of him.

“You got this, Fred? You got your head in the game?” Vinyl asked, trying to get him focused.

“Yes,” said Frederic. “You know the trick to things like this is? Always have five easy pieces you can play whenever you come across a piano.” 

“I use that trick myself. You never know when you’ll be called upon to perform,” Octavia added. 

“Uhh, didn’t I mention that earlier?” asked Vinyl. “I always have five mixes ready in case I get called to action,” she said, puffing her chest out a bit. “It’s tough being such an awesome pony like me,” she said haughtily.

“Yes,” muttered Frederic under his breath. “Tough being around you.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Frederic said, Octavia giggling slightly. The three ponies walked up to the front door of Carousel Boutique and Frederic knocked on the door. Suddenly, a loud crash and a scream was heard from behind it. The three of them took a step back, the door swinging open. Inside was chaos. The group of baboons had gotten out of control and were threatening to tear the place apart.

“Settle down! Rainbow didn’t mean to step on your tail!” Fluttershy begged, trying to reign in the monkeys, who screamed in rage.

“Um… did we come at a bad time?” Vinyl asked, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“Oh, thank the Princesses you’re here! Quickly, inside, inside before the baboons escape with the party favors!” Rarity ordered, ushering the three of them inside quickly.

“I’m giving you one more chance, please just settle down!” Fluttershy asked, to no avail. One baboon had jumped past Applejack, swiping her Stetson.

“Oh, no you don’t! Y’all get back here right this darn second!” Applejack yelled, charging after the baboon. Rainbow Dash was forced to restrain Applejack.

“It’s not worth it! Let Fluttershy handle it!” Rainbow Dash said, struggling to hold Applejack from wringing the baboon’s neck.

In the midst of this, Sweetie Belle stood there, wearing a half-bored, half-amused look on her face. Frederic gingerly made his way through the room, narrowly avoiding a flying object that might have collided with his head, and approached her.

“Hello,” he said. “You the birthday filly?”

“Yep,” said Sweetie Belle.

“It, uh… seems your party isn’t going as expected.”

“Oh, this is nothing,” said Sweetie Belle. “Stuff like this happens in this town every week.” Sweetie then realized who she was talking to. “Hey, you’re Rarity’s coltfriend!”

“‘Coltfriend’!?’ the eight mares said in unison as Fluttershy unleashed a Stare so powerful the heavens themselves would have shuddered in fear, freezing the baboons in place as if they had been struck by lightning. Frederic suddenly found himself in an awkward position.

“I’m just here to play piano to pay for my suit…” he said with a small gulp.

Rarity laughed. “Sweetie Belle, really, what have I told you about speaking before thinking about what you’re going to say?”

“You mean he’s not your coltfriend?” Sweetie asked.

“No, Sweetie. He’s just a friend—I only met him recently,” she said.

“Oh… well I think—”Sweetie Belle began, but Rarity stopped her dead in her tracks, shooing her away.

“Now now, don’t worry about me, go have fun with your friends!” Rarity said, trying to return a semblance of order to the party.

Sweetie Belle returned to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, the three of them shrugging. Rarity then approached Frederic. “I apologize for that, you know how she is,” she said with a sheepish smile.

“I get it, she’s a sweet kid,” Frederic said understandingly. Rarity then noticed that Frederic had brought company, one pony being a unicorn she recognized.

“I remember you, I hired you to play for me a while back!” Rarity said. “I’m sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name…”

Vinyl’s face lit up in a smile. “Heeeeey, good to see you! The name’s Vinyl,” she said.

“Oh, that’s right! How nice of you to come to Sweetie Belle’s party,” Rarity said with a gracious smile. She then noticed Octavia. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m—”

“This is my marefriend, Octavia,” Vinyl said with an air of pride.

“Well, a pleasure to meet you, Octavia,” Rarity said. She then thought for a moment. “Wait a moment… Octavia? Octavia Philharmonica of the Canterlot Orchestral Society? My word, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you! I simply love your music!”

“Oh!” said Octavia. “It’s always a pleasure to meet a fan.”

“The pleasure is mine entirely, darling,” said Rarity. “I’d love to invite you to stay, if a slightly unruly filly’s birthday party isn’t too untowards your liking.”

“Not at all, Rarity, I’m just happy I was allowed to attend though I was uninvited,” Octavia said. 

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Vinyl said.

“Of course, of course, anypony willing to celebrate Sweetie Belle’s birthday is welcome in my home,” Rarity said with a bright smile. “Now Frederic, you’ll find the piano near the showroom’s window.”

“Excellent,” said Frederic. “Is there… anything in particular that Sweetie Belle likes?”

“Oh, she likes showtunes. So if you know any Foal Porter or Steven Songtime…”

“Well, Vinyl and I are going to mingle while you get set up, Frederic. Good luck,” Octavia said with a nod.

“Make yourselves at home,” said Rarity. Octavia and Vinyl departed together as Frederic approached the piano.

Foal Porter, he thought. There are benefits to working with musically illiterate theatre majors.

However, he decided to warm-up with something a bit more complicated to loosen up his hooves. Perhaps a little Fetlach to get the hooves in shape…

Frederic sat in front of the baby grand piano, raising the cover for the keys and sliding it into place. He took a deep breath, and centered himself. He lowered his hooves to the ivory keys, and began to play. His hooves began to gracefully sweep across the keys, the piece becoming gradually more complicated and technical, though Frederic easily passed through the piece with what appeared to be minimal effort. Frederic’s playing began to catch the attention of everypony around him, the other ponies stopping their conversations to listen to him play.

“Woah… you weren’t kidding, Octy. He can play,” Vinyl said, thoroughly impressed.

“I told you,” Octavia said, affirming what she already knew.

The other mares all stopped to listen to Frederic’s playing, almost mesmerized by his skill. The girls then began quietly commenting on his masterful playing, but a certain mare found herself in a different position. The only pony who had nothing to say was Rarity. Rarity found herself almost in another world, watching Frederic effortlessly maneuver his way around the keys. She had heard the piece before, but never played with such virtuosity. It almost felt as if the music were… alive. She also found herself looking at Frederic in a different light. She knew he was charming, polite, modest, and was a rather attractive looking fellow. What’s this I’m feeling? My heart’s racing! Rarity thought, catching herself staring at the stallion as he played, blushing hotly.

When the piece finally came to an end, he took a deep breath. Alright. That hangover doesn’t seem to be a problem, he thought. Then he realized that the silence was a little… pregnant. He turned and he saw several ponies standing around him, staring.

Or maybe it is.

> Chapter Six
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several songs by Neighrome Kern  and Foal Porter later, both Frederic and Sweetie Belle were getting some nice applause. As the little fillies moved to play their games, Frederic took a step from the piano and stretched his legs. He’d earned a little break for the time being. He saw Octavia and Vinyl chatting by the punch bowl, and decided to join them for a bit.

“I gotta say Fred, I misjudged you,” Vinyl said with a small smile. “You’ve got some golden hooves, my friend.”

“Thank you Vinyl, I appreciate the compliment,” Frederic said, bowing his head. He then proceeded to pour himself a glass of punch and take a drink.

“You sure you should be drinking that?” asked Vinyl. “Isn’t it kinda for the foals?”

Frederic looked down at the glass, a slightly embarrassed expression on his face. “Oh.”

“Aaaaand you can’t put it back because you already started drinking it,” mused Vinyl. “Look, just finish it and get yourself an adult drink.”

“I feel maybe he should not drink, Vinyl. I mean, the poor fellow did have a hang-over this morning,” Octavia suggested. Frederic twitched internally at her remark, but chose not to react.

“I agree, frankly the idea of alcohol just… repulses me at the moment,” Frederic said, feeling a bit nauseated by the thought of alcohol.

“Yeah, yeah, I getcha,” Vinyl said, conceding. “Why not ask Rarity if there’s anything else, then?”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’ll be back, maybe get some water,” Frederic said, excusing himself. He made his way over to the other group of mares, who were all idly chatting together. He spotted Rarity among them, and approached her. “Excuse me, Rarity, do you have a moment?” 

“Of course,” Rarity said, separating herself from her friends. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, I was just curious if there was anything to drink aside from fruit punch and alcohol. My stomach’s a little upset at the moment,” Frederic said, deciding it would be better to keep the events of the night previous to himself.

“Would you like some water?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you,” said Frederic, nodding.

“Come with me, I’ll show you where the kitchen is,” Rarity said, taking the lead. As they cantered away from the party, she spoke up again. “I must say Frederic, your skill with the piano is simply astounding.”

He smiled. “Well, it’s a profession. I should return the compliment, if I may,” he said. “I’m very fond of the suit you made.”

“Oh stop, you’ll make me blush,” Rarity giggled.“Well, I suppose we can consider this an even trade?”

“I think so,” Frederic said. “Tell me, how did you realize that fashion was your calling?” he asked, curious.

As they walked, Rarity recounted the story of how she got her cutie mark, down to being dragged by her horn for what felt like miles towards the best quality gemstones for her costumes. “Though I’ve always loved fashion and dresses. I suppose I just always thought it a little exotic. Ponies don’t normally wear clothes, after all.”

“Well, if you continue to put out thread-work of this quality, I’m willing to stake a few bits that may change,” Frederic said with a smile. That got to Rarity, drawing out a bright pink blush from the mare.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” Rarity laughed. “Well, I told you how I got my cutie mark. What about yours? What made you seek music?” Frederic thought back to his childhood, remembering it fondly.

“Well, it all started when I was just a little colt. I remember that my grandfather had this beautiful, jet black grand piano—a Stallionway—in the family room of his house, and every time I visited, he would play for us. One day, when my parents had decided to leave me to stay with my grandparents, I decided to give it a try. I opened his sheet book, and tried to play the first thing I saw. Naturally I was pretty bad, but something kept bringing me back to keep trying to get it right. Before I knew it, I was breezing through his sheet music with little trouble, and one day they just appeared. It was then I knew that playing the piano is what I wanted to do with my life,” he reminisced.

“That’s a wonderful story, Frederic,” Rarity said. She then let out a small sigh. “I can’t help but wonder if Sweetie Belle will find her calling. She and her friends, well…”

“Mm?”

“Oh, they haven’t gotten their cutie marks. They’ve started a little club for it. They’re always trying new things to see if something sticks.”

“A club? To try and get their cutie marks?” Frederic asked.

“Yes, they call themselves ‘The Cutie Mark Crusaders’”, Rarity said, rolling her eyes.

“That’s… actually quite adorable,” Frederic said. “As for Sweetie Belle, I wouldn’t worry. I think I was actually a bit older than her before I realized that I loved the piano, so I figure she still has some time to work things out.”

“Thank you, Frederic, that puts me at ease. She’s my little sister, so I can’t help but worry sometimes,” Rarity said.

“I wish I could say I understood. I’m an only child, so I’ve never had that sort of experience personally,” Frederic mused. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tread on an uncomfortable topic,” Rarity said.

“No, no, you didn’t say anything wrong. It’s not that it’s an uncomfortable topic, it’s simply that I don’t know what it’s like,” Frederic reasoned.

“Okay, I was worried for a moment there,” Rarity said. Thank goodness, he doesn’t think I’m insensitive… she thought to herself.

The two continued to talk, completely forgetting what they had originally gone to the kitchen for in the first place.





“Pop music just isn’t what it used to be when we were growing up, Octy,” Vinyl said, shaking her head as she swirled her drink. “All the stuff they pump through the radio nowadays is just junk,” she said.

“Are you sure you should be saying that?” Octavia said, a little confused.

“Just ’cause you think my music’s junk doesn’t mean it is,” Vinyl defended. 

“I didn’t say that…”

“Anyway, I mean, compare the Hoof Beats to Nicklebuck,” said Vinyl.

“I’d need a score to look at.”

“We’re talking music, not sports,” Vinyl said, confused. “Not sure what one has to do with the other... either way, I at least try to put some variety into what I put out, unlike that garbage from Single Path or Smiley Cypress. It’s all the same; you got maybe one basic music idea and it covers such a narrow range and it’s boring. And all the teeny-bopper foals these days just eat it up,” Vinyl said. “Puts good musicians like us outta business!” Octavia extended a hoof, putting it on Vinyl’s shoulder.

“You are absolutely right, Vinyl, and I will definitely remember this conversation next time you decide to ‘critique’ my music,” Octavia said, a subtle, dangerous look hiding behind her irises. Vinyl realized that she had officially lost the right to bad-mouth Octavia’s type of music. 

“Hey, uh, you know, Frederic’s been gone a while! I wonder where he went?” Vinyl said, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Come to think of it, you’re right…” Octavia said, looking down the hall that Rarity and Frederic had taken together some time ago. “He said he was getting a drink, right?”

“Yeah, but how long does it take to get a drink of water?” asked Vinyl. “Hm. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom… Or maybe...” she said, a devilish smile creeping across her face.

“Vinyl, you know how I feel about that face…” Octavia said, taking a step back.

“Maybe Fred finally woke up to his stallionly instinct! Maybe he just swept Rarity right off her hooves!” Vinyl theorized.

“I think you’re thinking more about Frederic’s love-life than he is, Vinyl.”

“Well somepony has to! Besides, the sooner he lets you go, the sooner things get less awkward between you two, right?”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Things are not awkward between us, Vinyl.”

“Whatever you say,” Vinyl said, brushing her comment aside. “I dunno about you, but I’m gonna go see what’s up!” she said, beginning to make her way down the hall.

“Vinyl, stop! Are you trying to get us thrown out?!” Octavia whispered forcefully. “You cannot just go through another pony’s home without their permission!”

“It’s a party, Octy, it’s practically open house! Except where the doors are closed,” Vinyl said. “Are you coming or not?” Octavia thought about it for a moment, feeling pressured.

“Oh, fine, but if we get kicked out, I blame you for it!” Octavia said, sticking close to Vinyl as she made her way down the hallway.

“You won’t get kicked out,” said Vinyl. “She’s a fan. You could take a bath in her house and she probably wouldn’t be too mad.”

“Pardon me if I don’t test that.”

“Dang…” Vinyl said, slightly disappointed. “I totally would’ve been up for some of that,” she said in a seductive tone, causing Octavia to turn a deep shade of red and leaving her speechless. They approached the kitchen, hearing voices from within. Instead of entering, they decided to stay just outside the door frame, electing to listen in instead of getting involved. Vinyl signaled to Octavia to remain quiet.





“...So then Harpo leans over, and Beauty Brass sneezes into her sousaphone, scaring the stallion half to death!” Frederic recalled. The two ponies shared a good laugh.

“Oh, that is too funny!” Rarity said,

Vinyl and Octavia approached the corner, hearing their conversation. Vinyl decided she’d make herself known. “Hope we’re not interrupting your drink,” she said, stepping into view. “It a big one?”

“Vinyl,” said Octavia, putting a hoof to her forehead.

“Oh!” said Rarity. “Frederic and I were just having a little chat. He was telling some stories about some of your rehearsals.”

“Speaking of rehearsals,” said Octavia, “we have to get ready for our performance soon.” She smiled at Rarity, explaining, “We’re with the orchestra for a production of Don Giovanneigh,” she reminded.

“Oh, I love that opera! Most Art’s work is simply phenomenal!” Rarity gushed. “I really do envy the two of you, being in the thick of it all,” she said.

“Well, there are going to be a few performances while the troupe is in Canterlot for a few days. They’re doing a national tour,” Octavia said.

“It’s touring?” asked Vinyl. “Want to spread the boredom around a bit more?”

“Yes, they are touring,” Octavia said. “Perhaps it would not be so 'boring' if we had company with us…?” she suggested, looking at Rarity and Frederic.

“Well, I’ll be going. I’d like to see what I’m up against before I play. Sometimes these conductors take a little too much liberty with the way they want their performances to go,” Frederic said. “And I’m playing harpsichord. It isn’t actually scored for harpsichord, but you know… continuo.”

“Uh, no, I don’t...” muttered Vinyl.

“Well, during the recitative sections they have very simple accompaniment. Not the flashiest music, but they have a continuo—usually harpsichord—rolling out a few notes,” Frederic explained, much to Vinyl’s apathy.

“I’d love to go, but I don’t have a ticket,” Rarity said.

“Not an issue, we have been given comps; one per pony. Perhaps we could get lunch beforehoof,” Octavia suggested.

“Oh, splendid! We’ll make a day of it,” Rarity said with glee, clapping her hooves together. Vinyl was mysteriously quiet, simply watching the exchange between the other three. Suddenly a voice called for Rarity from the main hall.

“I’m sorry, I think that’s my cue to return to the party, please excuse me!” Rarity said, leaving the room.

“I wonder if they have a piñata…” Vinyl wondered out loud. She then looked at Frederic, who was sporting an easy, almost uncharacteristic grin. “Hey, what’re you smiling at?”

“Smiling?” Frederic asked. “Was I smiling?”

“Yeah, like a goof,” Vinyl said with a small chuckle. “Dude, I think there’s something to this Rarity filly,” she said.

“What are you getting at, Vinyl?” Octavia asked, wheeling around to face her.

“I think we found you a maaaaare,” said Vinyl.

“You’re still on about that?” asked Frederic. “I had a conversation with a mare. It’s not unusual.”

“Oh, come on, Fred! Read between the lines,” Vinyl said. “I haven’t seen two ponies hit it off better than when Octy and I hit it off!”

“If by ‘hit it off’ you mean I couldn’t stand being near you, then you are correct,” Octavia said. “Well, Rarity definitely seems like a nice enough pony,” she said, giving it a bit of thought.

Frederic took a sip of his water, wearing a deadpan expression. “This isn’t going to end, is it?”

“Nope!” said Vinyl. “Well, once you get hitched. Don’t worry, that shouldn’t take too long.”

Frederic sighed. He’d have to just ignore it, then. He didn’t fancy the prospect of Vinyl and Octavia trying to play matchmaker over the next several months. Octavia playing matchmaker for him. Irony.





Rarity arrived at the diner at a calculatedly early time. Just ten minutes before the arranged meeting point. Not so early as to be awkward, but not so late as to appear a flake. The musicians had not arrived yet, however. The Chateau De Vert was a cozy little restaurant not far from Sugarcube Corner, renowned for its elegant cuisine, particularly from Prance. Rarity had just ordered a glass of tea to drink when Frederic arrived.

“Oh, hello, Frederic! Just in time,” Rarity said with a smile.

“I hope I’m not late,” said Frederic, sitting down. “I… don’t know where the others are.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not late at all. I daresay we’re a bit early truthfully,” Rarity mused. 

“Frederic, thank you again for bringing me along with you to the opera. I hope I’m not being a bother,” she said.

Frederic couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you’re not being a bother. Believe me, there is… well, I’d probably rather not go into that.”

“Well, I’m appreciative just the same,” Rarity said. “I simply love the opera- the music, the ambience,” she sighed dreamily. “I would go more often, if my friends didn’t have an aversion for such things.”

“Not fond of the singing?” asked Frederic.

“I wouldn’t say that…” said Rarity. “Pinkie Pie loves singing, and Rainbow Dash enjoys the occasional musical.”

“I would have figured at least Twilight to enjoy the opera,” Frederic said, a bit surprised.

“She’s more one for instrumental music, rather than vocal,” said Rarity, thoughtfully stirring her tea. The waiter for their table, saw Frederic, and approached.

“Good afternoon, monsieur. Can I get you something to drink?” the stallion asked.

“Oh, just a glass of water, please.”

“Trés bon, right away,” he said with a small bow, leaving them alone once more. There was a small period of silence between them as they waited for Octavia and Vinyl, Rarity deciding to speak up.

“So Frederic, how long have you known Octavia and Vinyl?” she asked, curious.

“Oh, I haven’t known Vinyl for that long,” said Frederic. “Only met her a few years ago. She’s not somepony I’d consider… close. She doesn’t really associate herself with my immediate social circle, save for Octavia, of course. In fact, I only really know her through Octavia. Octavia I’ve known longer, for…” His voice trailed off. “Since, well, our university years. We collaborated for her recital; she did a cello sonata and she needed a pianist, so that was where I stepped in.”

Rarity listened intently, unconsciously stirring her tea as she focused on what he was saying. “Well, it’s a good thing you two stayed friends out of university, no?”

“Well, yes,” said Frederic. Though I had hoped for something more… he thought to himself. Now now, Frederic, don’t go down that path again…

“Is something wrong?” asked Rarity, leaning inquisitively.

“Hm?” asked Frederic. “Oh, no, nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure? You can trust me, Frederic,” Rarity asked, narrowing her eyes at first, then smiling.

“R-really, it’s nothing,” said Frederic, laughing. “Just…”

“‘Just’...?” Rarity asked, prodding a little more to find out what Frederic was hiding. Frederic was about to speak when Octavia and Vinyl arrived.

Darn… He seemed ready to talk, Rarity thought, taking a sip from her tea. “Hello, girls!”

“Good afternoon,” Frederic said.

“Hey Fred, Rares,” Vinyl said, waving a hoof.

“Good afternoon Rarity, Frederic,” Octavia said, taking her seat across from Rarity, Vinyl taking the seat across from Frederic.

“Sorry we kept you waiting, Octy took forever to get her mane straight, though I think it’s cuter when it’s messy,” Vinyl snickered.

“Quiet, you! I have a performance later and I refuse to look like I just rolled out of bed!” Octavia chided with a huff.

“But we did just—” Vinyl would have completed her sentence had Octavia’s hoof not found itself in her mouth.

“Don’t,” Octavia warned, her face burning with a wild blush.

“Oh my,” Rarity said, averting her eyes and bringing a hoof to her mouth.

“Excuse me, waiter?” Frederic called out, trying to desperately avoid thinking about what Vinyl had implied by calling over their waiter to place orders.

“Ignore her,” said Octavia, her voice in a dangerously low monotone as she replaced her hoof at her side.

“Impossible Octy, and you know it!” Vinyl said, proud of herself. The waiter made his way over, taking out a notepad.

“Are the mademoiselles prepared to order?” the waiter asked, looking to Octavia and Vinyl.

“Uh, I’ll have the… uh…” Vinyl said, squinting at the menu, having a difficult time pronouncing what she was reading.

“Sound it out?” asked Frederic.

“Ugh, you know what? Forget it, I’ll just have the fries,” Vinyl said, giving up.

“Fries? Here? We can get those anywhere,” Octavia said.

“Well, this place is supposed to be like Prance, right? So the fries should be good!” Vinyl said, causing Octavia to shake her head. “What kind of sauces do you have?”

“Well, we have a delicious apple-butter sauce, or you can try our homemade recipe for either our Dijon or Grey Poupon mustard,” the waiter suggested.

“Ew! ‘Poop-on’?! Gross!” Vinyl said, disgusted, causing Frederic to choke on his water.

“Vinyl!” Octavia said forcefully. “I am so sorry, sir, she just misunderstood,” she pleaded, trying to save what little face she could.

“What?! He said it!” Vinyl accused, unsure of what exactly she had done wrong.

“Vinyl, it’s poupon, not… erm, that,” Rarity repeated, trying not to laugh at Vinyl’s faux pas.

“I’ll just have the apple butter sauce,” Vinyl said, wanting to end the conversation.

“And for you, mademoiselle?” the waiter said, turning to Octavia, seemingly unaffected by Vinyl’s horrible butchering of his native tongue.

Octavia took a deep breath and sighed. “I’ll have the arlequin du potager en aigre-doux,” she said, her pronunciation flawless.

“Show-off…” Vinyl said under her breath.

“An excellent choice,” the waiter said. “And you?” he said, turning to Rarity.

“I will have the seitan roulade with chestnut-champignon stuffing, that sounds divine,” she said.

“Magnifique! That is a personal favorite of mine, if I must say,” he said. “And for the monsieur?”

“I’ll just have a garden salad,” said Frederic. After some funny looks from the other mares, he shrugged. “Not the biggest appetite at the moment.”

“I suppose it’s fine as long as you don’t collapse at the harpsichord,” said Octavia.

“Very well! I’ll put your orders in right away, s’il vous plait!” he said, hurrying off.

“So, uh… how long is this opera thing we’re going to be at?” Vinyl asked, afraid of the answer.

“Not that long,” said Octavia, “just two and a half hours, plus intermission.”

“Two and a half hours!?” Vinyl groaned. “I thought this would be like, a movie or something!”

“Oh, come now Vinyl, I’m sure it won’t be that bad. We can keep each other company!” Rarity said.

“I guess that’s not so bad… wait, you like operas, so it’s not like I can even heckle it with you!” Vinyl sighed.

“Not without getting thrown out of the hall,” muttered Frederic.

“Vinyl, please, promise me you won’t cause a scene,” Octavia begged.

“No promises, Octy,” Vinyl said. Octavia then swallowed her pride, and leaned over.

“What if I…” she then began to whisper into Vinyl’s ear, covering her mouth to keep the others from guessing what she was saying. Vinyl’s eyes widened at what she was hearing, a mischievous smile creasing her face.

“Even the…?” Vinyl started. Octavia did not answer, but cast a look in her direction.

“Oh, you have a deal!” Vinyl said.

Frederic went a deep red and buried himself in his water. Rarity blushed and cleared her throat. “E-excuse me a moment, I’m going to find the restroom…” she said, getting up and disappearing into the restaurant.

“It’s going well!” said Vinyl.

“You cannot be serious, Vinyl!” Frederic said, a bit agitated. “First you make a-a ‘poop’ joke at the table and now you’re talking bedroom things in front of her?” he protested, trying to disguise his discomfort by playing it off on Rarity.

“Relax Fred, it’s got nothing to do with you,” Vinyl said, fanning a hoof at him.

“Vinyl, please be more considerate of Frederic’s feelings,” Octavia said, both her expression and her tone serious. “Or I take back what I said,” she stated, narrowing her eyes.

“Fine, fine,” Vinyl said, acquiescing. “I’m sure things are fine, Fred. She was probably only embarrassed ‘cause—”

“The reason is irrelevant,” Octavia interjected. “The fact of the matter is, is that she is our guest and I would prefer not to scare her off,” she said.

“Yeah yeah, I get you, I’ll dial it back,” Vinyl said, raising her hooves in a ‘don’t zap me’ gesture.

Frederic took another drink of water and settled down, regaining his composure. “Thank you,” he said curtly.

“I’ll go check on her to see how she’s doing,” Octavia said, getting up and heading for the restroom. 





Rarity splashed a bit of water on her face, cooling off. Goodness… those two are something else! she thought to herself. She pulled a small cloth from her purse and reapplied whatever makeup she needed to, making sure everything looked in order.

“Rarity?” a voice called. Rarity turned and saw Octavia enter the restroom behind her.

“Oh, hello,” she said.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Octavia said. “I was a little concerned Vinyl had scared you off, truthfully,” she murmured.

“Oh, no, it’s just a little… muggy out today,” said Rarity.

“I did notice that,” Octavia said. “I just hope my eyeshadow isn’t smudging, it took me a good ten minutes to apply it right,” she said, looking at herself in the mirror.

“You look lovely, darling,” Rarity said. “Though it seems you have a bit of a knot in your mane,” she pointed out.

“Another one? I brushed that area for what felt like an eternity,” Octavia sighed.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Rarity said. She summoned her magic and withdrew a brush from her bag, gently raking it through her mane as she used her hooves to gently undo the knot.

“Thank you Rarity, you’re very kind,” Octavia said, grateful.

“Think nothing of it, darling,” Rarity smiled. After a few moments of silence passed, Octavia spoke up.

“...What do you think of Frederic?” she asked.





Vinyl messily ate her fries as Frederic absently stabbed at his salad.

“I hate silverware…” muttered Frederic.

“Really?” asked Vinyl. “It’s never bothered me.”

“Not all of us have horns.”

“Oh yeah…”

Frederic sighed, setting his fork down. “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

Vinyl stopped eating for a moment to look at Frederic. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I mean, Rarity and I do connect on some things, and it does seem like we get along okay, but… I just…” he pondered for a moment. “I guess I’m a little afraid to get too close to her,” he said. He found it a bit ridiculous that he was opening up to the mare that stole the object of his affections away from him, but better her than anypony else.

“Hey, hey, don’t get down on yourself, things’ll be fine,” Vinyl assured. “Just take your time with this, don’t rush it,” she said. “After all, a wise mare said only fools rush in…”

“Is that a song?” asked Frederic.

“Yes,” Vinyl said. “So basically, you’re afraid of getting attached, is that it?”

Frederic thought about it for a moment. “Well… I suppose so. I mean, look what happened the last time I let that happen,” he said, a small hint of bitterness in his tone.

Vinyl sighed. “Look, I don’t really know what to tell you about that,” she said earnestly. “I’m not gonna say sorry, because I’m not sorry about how I feel for Octy. You can’t really help who you fall in love with,” she said.

“Ain’t that the truth…” Frederic said morosely, drinking a bit more of his water.

“Just give it time bud, you’ll see,” Vinyl said, nudging Frederic’s shoulder. “Things’ll work out in a way you won’t see coming, and the next thing you know, you’ll be happy, and even if you’re not, you still got me and Octy,” she said with a small smile. Frederic looked at her, a little touched by her gesture.

“Thank you, Vinyl… that means a lot,” Frederic responded.

“Hey, we’re friends, right? Any friend of Octy’s is a friend of mine,” Vinyl said with a wink.

“Yeah… I guess you could say that,” Frederic said with a small smile.





Rarity did not know how to respond. This was a question she had been asking herself since the night previous, and did not have an answer for it.

“Well, I… I think he’s a charming stallion. He’s kind, he’s approachable, he’s talented,” she said, listing his qualities.

“Do you like him?” Octavia asked, her questions becoming more pointed as time passed.

“Well I definitely don’t dislike him,” she answered. “He’s certainly polite.”

“Just… be gentle with him, okay? He’s a little… fragile right now,” Octavia said rather cryptically.

Rarity looked at her, a little confused. “I don’t quite understand…” 

Octavia sighed. “I’m sorry Rarity, I… I suppose I’m just looking out for him,” she said honestly. “We have known each other for years and I’ve seen Frederic get into situations that don’t exactly work out in his best interests,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Rarity asked.

“Suffice to say, Frederic has had his heart broken a few times,” Octavia said. Myself being one… she thought.

It took a moment for it to click in Rarity’s head, her cheeks turning a bright pink. “Oh… I… oh…” she mumbled. It made sense to her now.“Does… does Frederic like me?” she asked, curious to know more. Something in the back of her mind demanded an answer.

“I can’t say for sure, and if you want a legitimate answer, you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Octavia said. “I won’t speak for him.”

“O-Of course, I apologize, I just got a bit ahead of myself,” Rarity said, feeling a little embarrassed.

“All I will say, is that if he does, it will take him time. He’s… healing,” Octavia said.

“I… see…” said Rarity. “Well, whomever broke Frederic’s heart truly didn’t deserve him,” she said, unknowingly causing a pang of discomfort in Octavia’s heart.

“Right… well, I’m glad to see you’re okay. I’m going to go back out to the table,” Octavia said.

“I appreciate your concern, Octavia. I’ll be out momentarily,” Rarity said. “I need a moment to gather my thoughts…”

“Alright,” said Octavia. “I’ll leave you to them. Oh, and… don’t mind Vinyl. She’s a bit much, even for me sometimes.”

“Oh, she’s a riot,” Rarity said with a smile. “A bit rough around the edges, but I think that adds to her charm. You two make a wonderful couple,” she said, eliciting a smile from Octavia.

“Thank you Rarity,” Octavia said.

“Think nothing of it, darling,” Rarity said with a wink.





The four ponies eventually made their way over to the Ponyville Grand Opera Hall, entering the building via the side entrance. Octavia and Vinyl stepped away to speak for a moment, leaving Frederic with Rarity.

“How do I look?” Frederic asked, asking Rarity’s opinion.

“Like a million bits,” Rarity said with confidence. “You do my stitching proud!”

“Believe me, I’m the one that’s happy,” Frederic said with a small smile.

“Break a leg, darling!” Rarity encouraged. She then left to find her seat, waving at Frederic. He returned the wave, turning to find Octavia.





“Are you certain I look okay?” Octavia asked, concerned that something somewhere was out of place.

“Relax, Octy, you look awesome,” Vinyl reassured.

“If you’re sure… I’m going to go find my seat among the orchestra,” Octavia said.
“Okay Octy, see you later,” Vinyl replied, sharing a quick kiss with Octavia, in full-view of a now paralyzed Frederic. 

“Love you, Octy!” Vinyl said.

“I love you too,” Octavia responded.

The scene caused Frederic’s mind to grind to a catastrophic halt. The stallion felt his heart sink, in pieces, into the depths of his stomach. It felt as though the painful fissure ran down into the very pit of his being. He immediately stifled the urge to run as far away from where he stood with every last ounce of his might, rooting himself to the ground. He forced his mind to avert his thoughts from the image causing the painful torrent of burning heartache, hiding it behind a stone-faced expression. Octavia turned, seeing Frederic standing there, simply staring off into the distance.

“Oh, there you are Frederic. Are you ready to perform?”

“Yes,” he answered almost robotically. Octavia noticed the dramatic shift in his tone.

“Are you well, Frederic?” Octavia asked, concerned.

“Fine,” he said, turning and heading off without her.





After the rather moody overture, the strings took a more bouncy tone, as the curtain came up. A stallion paced back and forth across the stage in front of the set of a large house, looking nervously at it, as though at something the audience couldn’t see.

“Notte e giorno faticar…” sang the stallion, in boisterous bass. Magical supertitles appeared above, translating the Istallion for the audience. The stallion did not like being made to wait outside, the lowly servant he was, while his master went inside chasing after pretty ladies.

After this opening aria, he ran to the side, as a mare appeared, pursued by a stallion. A trio ensued, and this was about when Vinyl started getting a little confused. It was an impressive trio, for sure. Then a hulking bass stallion stepped out and challenged the second stallion (a baritone) to a sword fight. The bass (the second bass, that is, not the first one) got stabbed, sang a slow death song as the baritone confirmed in song that, yes, he was dying, before the scene ended.

Vinyl had to admit… the music was certainly flashy. She wasn’t sure she completely understood the plot. Was the baritone trying to rape the soprano? Or had that already happened? Or was that not what was happening? She looked to the side and saw an older pony next to her watching with a stone-faced expression. She looked past that pony to the next and saw a young stallion giddily giggling at the servant’s recitative.

Then she looked back at the stage and found that the scene had shifted to the soprano from earlier, this time with a tenor. They weren’t really singing anything particularly distinct, just… that recitative. Something something swearing vengeance…

That was about as far as Vinyl got. This part of the opera became the start of a large mental blank spot.

Though there was something Vinyl found a little odd about the recitative. Something seemed… off about the chords that the harpsichord was rolling…





Frederic felt sluggish. He felt as though every last ounce of energy had been sucked from him, leaving just a shell of a pony behind. It wasn’t until the pony behind him nudged him in the back that he came to life for a moment, the small burst of energy fading into oblivion a moment later. His mind continued to mercilessly replay what he had seen over and over, and every time it started over it felt as though the wound grew deeper and deeper.

That should have been me… a voice echoed from deep inside his mind.

I wasn’t good enough… another voice spoke.

Nonsense! She’s the one not good enough for you!

Why wasn’t I good enough…?

What does it matter!? She would have thrown you away regardless!

Frederic was at war within himself. His heart and his mind were battling it out like raging demons, reason trying to trump emotion, though neither truly coming ahead in the strife.

For the third time, he could hear the soprano making a false start.

“Frederic!” whispered Octavia, mostly mouthing to him. “What’s wrong?” She received no response. It appeared as though Frederic was entirely vacant, his eyes dull and empty as he stared blankly at the harpsichord.





“This singer sucks,” muttered Vinyl. “That other pony’s boring, too.”

“Oh dear…” Rarity murmured as the dissonance from the harpsichord began to throw off the rest of the accompanying instruments as well as the actors on stage.

“It sounds like it’s coming from the… Oh…” said Vinyl.

The curtain fell, before rising again on the baritone and the bass (the one that wasn’t dead). They had an argument about something. The bass was basically telling the baritone he was being a dick. This went on for a while until another soprano entered and sang a big aria.

It seemed that everything was going fine apart from those boring might-as-well-just-be-talking parts. Vinyl leaned back in her seat, found a comfortable position, and promptly fell asleep, not waking up until the bass started blasting high Es in an aria that went on for longer than Vinyl expected.

“Who- what?” Vinyl said rather loudly, eliciting a huge number of ponies around her shushing her violently. 

The bass sang “mille e tre,” and the audience erupted with laughter, with the young stallion two seats away from Vinyl breaking into uncontrollable sniggers.

Then the bass held a high D and Vinyl checked her watch. Seven seconds. He held that note for seven seconds. About how majestic big women were.

All in all the aria was nearly six minutes long. After a short time, Frederic began to slip out of line yet again, causing another audible train-wreck on-stage. The orchestra barely managed to make it to intermission. 





During the intermission, Vinyl asked “So… he slept with a thousand mares…”

“In Andalusia,” Rarity clarified. “The Don lives in Andalusia, so it makes sense that that would be the highest…”

“So more than a thousand,” said Vinyl. 

"So, did you enjoy the play?" Rarity asked.

"Well, there was stuff I liked. I liked the part where he sang about getting everyone drunk,” she said. “I liked the part where everyone got confused and that Don guy got away.”

“I figured those would be your favorite parts,” Rarity giggled. “You slept through the rest of it,” she pointed out. “I just hope Frederic’s alright…”





“What the hell is your deal, man?” One angry pony asked. “You keep throwing us off!”

“You need to get it together,” another pony said angrily. “Who hired this guy?”

“I think I saw the mezzo about to cry…” said one pony.

“That’s because her character is in hysterics,” said another.

“Oh, yeah…”

“You keep screwing this up, and I’m gonna make sure you never get work in this opera house again!” one pony yelled. That was the last straw. 

The hell with this, Frederic thought. He stood up, yanked off his bow-tie, and made for the exit.

“Yeah, get lost! Hack,” one pony called out after him, voice laden with vitriol.

“Frederic!” Octavia called out, chasing after him. She eventually caught up to him, grabbing him by his foreleg to stop him from leaving.

“Let me go, Octavia…” Frederic said, his voice dangerously calm.

“What is the matter with you? You have been out of sorts ever since we got here! All I want is-”

“Let me go!” Frederic roared, forcefully removing his foreleg from her grasp. Octavia was stunned. Frederic had never raised his voice before, let alone at her.

“You… you yelled at me…” Octavia said, almost on the verge of tears. Frederic felt guilt wrack his heart, but the pain of what he had witnessed was stronger.

“I… I’m sorry…” he said, exiting the building via the nearest door, galloping at full-tilt back to his apartment. What have I done?

The ponies still in the orchestra pit looked at the harpsichord. The trumpet player raised his hoof.

“Umm… I don’t really do a whole lot during the recit,” he said. “I could take over.”

“Done,” the coordinator said. “Anypony else got any changes they want to make? No? Then take your places,” he ordered. Octavia blankly reclaimed her chair. She played her part well despite the situation, though found it very difficult to read her sheet music through teary eyes.





The play came to an end, Vinyl and Rarity exited the building, chatting to one another about the play and other things. As the ponies cleared out, they waited near the entrance of the Opera Hall for Frederic and Octavia, completely unaware of what had occurred. Vinyl caught sight of Octavia, who was slowly trotting out.

“Hey Octy!” Vinyl called out, the two unicorns making their way over to her. When they got closer to her, Vinyl realized something was very wrong. Octavia’s face was completely stained, her mascara and eyeshadow having completely smeared from the crying.

“W-what happened!? Are you okay!?” Vinyl asked, extremely concerned.

“What happened, darling? Did it have to do with the…” Rarity looked for the delicate way of putting it. “The… issues, during the first act?” Rarity asked, mirroring Vinyl’s concern. She then noticed she was alone. “Where’s Frederic?” 

Octavia tried to speak, but couldn’t muster the words. She simply buried her face in Vinyl’s neck, now openly sobbing. Vinyl tried her best to console Octavia, casting confused looks at Rarity, who was just as lost as she was. The three mares found a quiet place to themselves, allowing Octavia to exhaust herself before trying to speak to her. Once Octavia had sufficiently calmed down, she brokenly explained the situation. With the night having come to a very abrupt ending, the three mares parted ways, returning to their homes for the evening. Rarity found herself trying to rationalize what Octavia had told her, feeling that what she had heard did not match her mental image of Frederic.

What were you thinking, Frederic? Rarity wondered to herself as she entered the Boutique, locking the door behind her.





Frederic shut the door to his apartment, locking it behind him. I need a drink… he thought, quickly making his way over to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of scotch out of the cupboard, grabbed an empty glass, and poured until the glass was full, not bothering with ice. He immediately began to drink, the alcohol setting his throat ablaze as it went down. He gave a deep sigh, feeling the heat of the alcohol escape his mouth, replaced by cool air. That’s the stuff… he thought. He immediately began to feel the effects, as his stomach was largely empty. The half-eaten salad would do nothing to absorb the alcohol. Half a bottle of scotch later, Frederic found himself sitting on the floor near his piano, staring at the wall across from him.

“Well… isn’ that juuuust th’ sweetest?” he muttered, taking another drink. “No room fer good ol’ Freddie!” he said bitterly. The room had begun to spin slightly, all of his senses now dull- including the pain. “I jus’ think it’s th’ best that they loooooove each other!” he said, mockingly raising his hooves, almost tipping over due to his lack of balance. Sadly, even being drunk would not spare him from his thoughts.“Why does this hurt so much…?” he said, placing a hoof to his heart. He felt his eyes beginning to well up. “Why wasn’ I good enough?” he wondered out loud, the tears finally spilling over and running down his cheeks. “Did I do s-somethin’ to deserve this?” he coughed, wiping his face.

He then looked disdainfully at the piano."You…" he growled, stumbling over to the piano. He put the glass down, hit a chord. One of the notes was wrong. “No.” He tried to play something else. A sour note. “No.” Again. “No.” Again. “No.” Again. “No!”

He slammed the lid down. “Forget this!” he said. “Can’ practice like this!” he slurred, downing the rest of his drink, marching over to his record collection. “I’ll jus’ get a recording!” he hiccuped, ‘triumphantly’ holding up a record. “A recording won’ screw up!”

He clumsily trundled to the record player and put it on.

“C’mon, Mist’r Bitstein! Play me some stuff! Give me Bedridden Smetena…”

The room filled slowly, starting with a single flute, then strings, and soon that one record player drowned out the entire room in sound.

“Drown it out…” He said, pouring another drink and reclining in his chair. “Drown it all out… just....” he trailed off as he took another swig, tipping the full glass over a little too far, spilling it on himself. At this point, he was too far gone to care. He let gravity do its work, his foreleg falling to his side. The glass slipped out of his hoof, coming to rest on the floor near his recliner. The stallion allowed the soft embrace of his recliner to sweep him away into unconsciousness, tears still running down his cheeks.
> Chapter Seven
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl marched down the hall from their apartment, a great deal more driven than she usually appeared. Octavia followed after her, trying to overtake and stop her.

“Vinyl, please…” Octavia said.

“Nope, we’re fixing this right now!” Vinyl insisted, marching over to Frederic’s apartment door.

“He’s upset as it is, perhaps we should just leave him be for now…” Octavia suggested meekly.

“Sorry Octy, nopony yells at my marefriend, for no good reason, on my watch,” Vinyl said.

“I just don’t want to cause anymore trouble for him…” Octavia murmured, her emotions starting to get the better of her. “I just, I… I…”

“Octy,” said Vinyl, her front hooves firmly on the other’s shoulders. “Listen to me. Are you listening?”

Octavia, still a little shaken, nodded her head.

“Okay,” said Vinyl. “Good. Octy, I need you to listen to me: this is not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

Octavia took a deep breath and nodded. She lifted a hoof, wiping her eye. “Th… thank you, Vinyl.” She took another breath. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know what we can do.”

“Leave it to me,” said Vinyl. “I’ll see if I can get some sense in him. He’s acting like a selfish crybaby…”  Vinyl then turned and started banging on his door. “Fred? Open up, we know you’re in there!” She continued to bang on his door. After a good five minutes of knocking to no response, Vinyl gave up. “Fine, but you better be there when we get back! I’m not done with you yet!”

The two mares then left, discussing what could and what needed to be done about Frederic as they headed into town to run errands.





The sound of heavy thumping from outside as well as the heavy, painful thumping inside of his skull awoke Frederic, his eyelids slowly opening as sunlight filtered in through the blinds. 

Stop it, Frederic thought, a little too groggy and hungover to actually speak. You’re too loud...

It was then the scent of alcohol filled his nose, turning his stomach. Ugh, that smell… Frederic thought. He went to raise his forelegs and felt his fur sticking all over. Did I spill something on myself? he wondered, lifting a foreleg to his nose. He immediately recoiled when the scent of the scotch filled his sinuses, his stomach almost turning over completely. I need a shower!

Frederic stood up and looked around. His apartment was a mess. The bottle of scotch had tipped over and spilled completely into the carpet, staining it. His sheet music was scattered about and his records lay all over the floor outside their housing. 

“What happened in here…?” he wondered out loud. He then tried to remember what had happened last night, and it all came to him in a painful torrent. All of it. “Oh… no, no no! What did I do?” he groaned, rubbing his aching forehead. He lumbered towards the shower, his body aching from galloping all the way home from the opera house without stopping. He turned on the hot water and stepped inside, the warmth of the water seeping all the way down to his skin.

I can’t face Octavia after what I did last night, he thought. She didn’t deserve that. None of those ponies performing deserved it… he then gave a heavy sigh. I made a fool of myself and Octavia. I embarrassed myself in front of my peers, probably embarrassed that soprano… I’m sure Rarity must—he then felt a cold pang of anxiety run through him. He then gave an exasperated groan and banged his hoof on the wall in front of him. What else am I going to ruin?

Once he was done with his shower, he set out to clean up the apartment. He did his best to clean the stain in the carpet, reorganized his sheet music and put all of his vinyl records back in their places. Once done, he then sighed, taking a seat at the small table near the kitchen. He sat there for a while, nursing his headache, his hoof tracing circles around his temples. This was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him in his career. Worse than that time he’d thrown up on stage. He grabbed a quill, ink and parchment, and began to write. Once finished, he folded it and placed it in an envelope. He walked over to his door, opening it and shoving the letter into the mailbox beside the door, shutting the door and locking it behind him.





“Sooooo he flaked and bailed?” asked Rainbow Dash, sitting across from Rarity. The two of them were at lunch, Rainbow herself enjoying a hay smoothie.

“Well… I’m not really sure what happened,” said Rarity. “He seemed to be having some trouble during the first act and then he left at intermission.” She sighed. “I’m afraid I’d have to ask him what the trouble was, and I don’t think it would be particularly sensitive of me to do that. Octavia was quite upset.”

“Uh-huh…” said Rainbow Dash, before making a very loud slurping noise with her straw.

“Rainbow Dash, manners!” Rarity chided. “I’m in no mood!” she huffed.

“Sorry, yeesh!” Rainbow Dash said. “It’s just a smoothie…” She put the drink down. “I’m not really sure what to tell ya Rarity. Maybe he just got cold hooves?”

“That doesn’t sound like Frederic at all, though…” Rarity said, still unable to piece together what would send Frederic into such a topspin.

“Well, if it were me, I’d go find the guy and knock some sense into him,” Rainbow Dash said thoughtfully. Rarity stared at Rainbow Dash, clearly not amused. “You know who’s really good with advice? Applejack,” Rainbow Dash suggested. “She’s honest, so she’ll give it to you straight.”

“Perhaps you’re right, I’ll go talk to Applejack. Thank you again for your help, darling,” she said as Rainbow Dash took to the air.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s what friends do!” Rainbow Dash said, leaving the bits she owed on the table in front of Rarity. Rarity made sure both bills were paid and left for Sweet Apple Acres. Rarity made her way through the front gate and around the back, where Applejack and Big Macintosh were hard at work pulling carts of apples.

“C’mon Mac, just this cart n’ were done!” Applejack said, pulling her cart. Big Macintosh nodded, pulling his much larger cart with all the strength he could muster. They made it to their destination, off-loading the carts and taking a seat, wiping the sweat off their foreheads.

“Hoo-wee is it hot!” Applejack exclaimed, wiping some sweat off of her brow with her hoof.

“Applejack?” Rarity called out.

“Oh, howdy Rarity! What brings ya by?” Applejack asked, surprised to receive a visitor.

“Oh, just felt like having a little talk,” said Rarity. “Hello, Big Macintosh!”

“Afternoon, Miss Rarity,” he said in his typical soft tone.

“Mac, would ya mind givin’ us a bit?” Applejack asked.

“Nnope,” he said, reading the situation. He could tell by the look on Rarity’s face that she wasn’t visiting for just a ‘little talk’. Big Macintosh excused himself, heading back into the house.

“Follow me Rarity, I need to go wash up n’ we keep an extra shower out by the workshed,” Applejack said. “We can talk there.”

“Alright,” Rarity said, following behind Applejack. They walked a good distance away from the main house, approaching the work-shed, a small shower stall standing next to it. Once Applejack had entered it, Rarity took a seat on a nearby stump.

“So what’s on yer mind?” Applejack asked.

“Oh, well,” Rarity said, taking a deep breath. “There was a little problem with the opera last night. Frederic, well… he ran off, for some reason.”

“Uh-huh…?”

“It just doesn’t add up,” Rarity said. “I’ve played out what Octavia told me over and over again and it just doesn’t make sense…”

“Well, what’d she say?”

“Well… she said he just wasn’t himself. It’s as if he was present physically, but not mentally. He continuously missed his cues and messed up his parts, and during intermission he tried to leave, and when she tried to stop him, he yelled at her and ran off,” Rarity explained.

“Sounds to me like he got cranky and distracted,” said Applejack with a shrug of her shoulders.

“That’s too simple, though… it doesn’t make sense. He’s far more professional than that,” Rarity said.

“Well, then think about it—what coulda happened that made Fred yell at Octavia?” Applejack questioned.

“That’s just it—I don’t know,” Rarity responded. “It just doesn’t make sense. They’ve been friends for years…”

“That don’t mean nothin’ and you know it,” Applejack said. “You and me’ve been friends for ages and we still get on each others’ nerves.”

“Octavia was very upset. She tried to say what it was but she wasn’t coherent enough to get it out properly.”

“Only reason I can think of for him to act that way towards her would be if she did somethin’ to him, whether she knew it or didn’t,” Applejack reasoned. “If I know ponies, and I reckon I do, ponies don’t just fly off the handle like that for no reason.”

“But that’s ridiculous. What could she have done to him?”

“I dunno, that’s somethin’ you’re gonna have to find out from the source,” Applejack said, turning off the water. She grabbed her towel and quickly dried off, stepping out from the stall. “I figure you should probably get to him before Vinyl does. I can imagine she ain’t happy at all.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to ask… if that’s proper, after all,” Rarity mused. “They might not want to talk about it.”

“Maybe you should get Fred’s side of the story,” Applejack suggested. “All you’ve heard is Octavia’s, and having his side will only fill in more of the puzzle.”

“I suppose you may be right. I’ll just have to be… delicate about it,” Rarity said.

“Well, best of luck to ya,” said Applejack. “If I know my high society ponies, they have a tendency to not say what they mean, if you catch my drift.”

“All too well,” said Rarity.

“Hang in there Rares, it’ll be fine,” said Applejack, nudging Rarity’s shoulder.

“I appreciate that, thank you,” said Rarity, making her way back to town, pondering her current conundrum.





As Octavia and Vinyl made their rounds about town, a familiar blue-coated mare raced to find them. She spotted Octavia by one of the flower carts.

“Octavia!” she called out.

Octavia looked up, hearing her name called. She looked around, seeing the exasperated mare approaching.

“Beauty Brass? What’s the matter? Is everything alright?” Octavia asked, concerned.

“You… you need to… come to the Conservatory… it’s urgent…” Beauty gasped, having over-exerted herself a bit.

Octavia, Vinyl and Beauty Brass all left for the Ponyville Conservatory of Music, where the ensemble regularly met on a weekly basis to discuss work and other projects. Upon arrival they found Harpo seated in his favorite chair, resting his head on one of his hooves. In the other hoof, he held a piece of paper.

“Harpo?” asked Octavia, “what is it?”

Harpo shook the paper. She took it in her hoof and read it, while Harpo produced an oversized handkerchief and mopped his brow.

“‘To whom it may concern…’” she read, “‘in light of recent events that have both damaged my friendships and my career, it is with a heavy heart that I deliver to you my formal…’” Her eyes widened and she balked. “Resignation’!? He’s resigning?!”

Harpo made a large, exaggerated sigh, then started dabbing his eyes with the handkerchief.

“What are we going to do? We can’t just let him resign!” Beauty Brass protested. “We can’t just find another pianist who can learn the rep that fast!”

“T-this is…” Octavia sputtered. “I have to talk him out of this!”

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Beauty Brass.

Honk? went Harpo on a bicycle horn that had seemingly materialized when nopony was looking. Octavia swiped the horn out of his hooves.

“This is serious!” Octavia chided, casting an angry look at Harpo.

“Hoooonk…” he went sadly. Beauty Brass sighed.

“He got into the old Grouchy ‘Marks videos again,” Beauty Brass said. “It’s just another phase of his, it’ll pass.”

“What are we going to do?” Octavia sighed, racking her brains to try and come up with an answer.

“Is there any chance he’ll… just change his mind?” asked Beauty Brass.

“Maybe… but if not?” asked Octavia.

Harpo stood up and held out his hoof.

“Harpo?” asked Octavia.

Harpo gestured to the letter.

“I think he wants you to give it to him,” said Beauty Brass.

Octavia hesitatingly gave the letter to Harpo, who then promptly shoved it in his mouth. Octavia gave an irritated sigh, shaking her head at Harpo’s antics.

“Well it did solve part of the problem…” mumbled Beauty Brass.

“...Let me talk to him,” Vinyl said, her voice unusually calm.

“What? What do you mean, Vinyl?” Octavia asked.

“Because I’m just a little fed up with this nonsense,” said Vinyl. 

“What makes you think he’ll listen?” Beauty Brass asked.

“Oh, he’ll listen,” Vinyl said almost threateningly. “And, no offense—really, I mean that—but I’m the one who stands the best chance of not making it awkward.”

“What’s going on?” asked Beauty Brass.

“Ughh…” said Vinyl, shaking her head. “Frederic has some personal issues he’s not dealing with  very well. Let’s just say that this is entirely on him.” She made an irritated grunt. “I’ve tried to help with this, I’ve tried to be reasonable, and I’ve done my damnedest to be as supportive as possible…” She then stamped a hoof on the ground out of frustration.

“Maybe we just need to give him time to himself…” Beauty Brass suggested.

“He doesn’t just get to screw up and run away, that’s not how friendships work!” Vinyl yelled, fed up with Frederic’s terrible attempt at handling the situation. “I’m gonna handle this, you stay here!” she said, leaving the Conservatory. “Just you wait Fred, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t pissed me off,” she growled, making a beeline for the apartment complex.

“I’m going with her… the last thing I need is for her to kill him,” Octavia said. “We’ll fix this, you’ll see,” she said to Beauty Brass as she left to follow Vinyl. I hope…

“Octavia…” Harpo said, breaking character as he had decided the situation was now serious enough to warrant it. “Is this about… Well, I believe I was the first one Frederic told about his… feelings.”

“We need to figure out what happened last night… I refuse to believe the pony that yelled at me was Frederic,” Octavia said, taking a moment to look at Harpo while she spoke. “I’m determined to prove it.”

“Well, it’d be quite a case of identity theft,” said Harpo.

“You know what I mean!” Octavia retorted. “We’ll be back with Frederic later.”

“Best of luck,” said Harpo, giving a salute.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure my other half doesn’t go too far…”





Frederic, meanwhile, was making his way to Carousel Boutique, oblivious to the impending hurricane of a mare headed straight for their apartment complex.

I’m not exactly ready to talk to Octavia just yet, so I guess my best bet would be to start by apologizing to Rarity… he thought to himself, making his way through town. 

He made the mental checklist: the bridges to repair and the bridges to burn. Well, he didn’t really think of them as burning bridges. More… abandoning the bridge before he caught on fire himself. Once done, Frederic then began to go over in his mind how exactly he was going to apologize to Rarity, provided that she was still willing to talk to him. 

He’d say he was sorry for ruining the performance. He’d say he was sorry for bolting without even saying hello. He’d say he was sorry for any distress he’d caused as a result of the fallout. He’d even say it was entirely his own fault for being a wreck who couldn’t keep a lid on his own emotions. He arrived at the Boutique, anxiety coursing through him. He had no idea what to expect. He tentatively raised a hoof, and knocked on the door.





Rarity’s ears perked when she heard somepony at the door. She got up from her sewing machine and answered the door, finding a very subdued and quite nervous-looking Frederic.

“Oh, hello Frederic,” Rarity said.

“Rarity, I need to apologize,” said Frederic. “My behavior was completely inexcusable. Both as a professional and… as a host—”

“Before you go on, come inside,” Rarity said, interrupting him. She then opened the door to the Boutique, allowing the stallion to enter. She then shut the door behind them. “Follow me,” she said. The pair made their way to the kitchen. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the small coffee table in the room. Rarity herself went over to the stove, setting a pot of tea to brew. She then returned to the table, taking a seat herself. 

“So…” Rarity started, “While I understand last night was not what you would call a ‘good night’ by any definition of that term, can you please explain to me what exactly was going through your head?” she asked. “I—I keep trying to wrap my brain around what Octavia told me and it just does not add up. I never figured you for that sort of behaviour. I… am a bit disappointed, truthfully,” she said. Frederic felt the weight of her words, the bitter sting gnawing away at his conscience.

“I…” Frederic started, then stopped, giving a deep sigh. “It’s very, very complicated,” he said.

“Try me,” Rarity said. Frederic gathered his thoughts and began to speak.

“Well… it happened shortly after you left to find your seat,” Frederic said, forcing himself to recount the events of last night. The pain in his heart gradually intensified, but still he pressed on. He felt that he at least owed her the truth.  “I went to find Octavia so we could find our seats among the orchestra, and…” Frederic stopped short, feeling a knot beginning to form in his throat. 

“‘And’?” Rarity repeated. Frederic shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He bit down on his lower lip, hoping that the physical pain would distract him from the emotional hurricane raging in his chest.

“I… haven’t been completely straight with you,” said Frederic, struggling to voice his thoughts. “This… is probably going to sound very petty. And it is,” Frederic said. Rarity then noticed his voice was shaking slightly. Frederic had to take a moment to regather his thoughts, and continued forward. “I… I saw,” he started, stopping again as his voice cracked. Rarity simply watched him as he spoke, her confusion and disappointment slowly dwindling. “I… saw them kiss, and…” It was then that a single tear escaped the corner of Frederic’s eye, and Rarity’s stoic expression immediately shifted to one of regret and understanding.

“Frederic…” Rarity said softly. Frederic raised a hoof.

“Please… let me finish,” Frederic requested, Rarity nodding in acknowledgement.

“I… saw them kiss,” Frederic repeated. “Now, you’d think that wouldn’t be so bad,” he stammered as more tears began to make their way down his face. “That is, until…” he then stopped again, taking a deep, ragged breath. The poor stallion was shaking, unable to get a grip on the rush of emotion. “Until… they said they loved each other…” he said. He bowed his head, burying his face into a hoof.

Rarity’s heart ached. “Oh, Frederic… it was Octavia who broke your heart, wasn’t it?” she asked softly, placing a hoof on his. Frederic gave a small nod. “I understand your pain all too well…”

Frederic looked up at her.

“I… I thought I was in love with someone too, once. Not so long ago. Dreamed about him a lot. But, well… Like with you, it just turned out to be something I couldn’t have.” Frederic sniffled, blinking more tears out of his eyes. 

Rarity then summoned a napkin from the countertop, bringing it to her hoof. “It’s okay, Frederic…” she said softly. She moved closer to him, raising the napkin. “Lower your hoof,” she said. Frederic complied, and Rarity gently began to dab at his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “It all makes sense now… and believe me when I tell you that I feel for you, I really do,” she soothed as she threw away the napkin. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, I feel terrible,” she said as she got up to retrieve the pot of tea as it was now whistling.

“I don’t like crying,” Frederic said, sniffling again. “It makes me feel like I’m just being childish,” he said.

“While I would prefer not to see somepony I care about in such a state of emotional distress, I do think it is better to just let it out rather than keep it in,” Rarity said thoughtfully. “I have always disliked the stigma that stallions should not cry because it denotes weakness. Rather, I would prefer it if they had a good cry or something of the sort once in a while. Celestia knows it can not be healthy,” she said. “Not to mention I like the idea of coddling him in his time of need,” she said with a small blush.

He laughed a little. “Well… maybe.” Frederic raised a hoof to his cheeks where Rarity had cleaned his tears. He felt a small smile crease his face as he felt genuinely touched by her sweet gesture.  “I… know I shouldn’t carry on like this. Octavia and Vinyl are together. I can’t change that. And I won’t gain anything by pining away. Still…”

“I understand how difficult it is to move on,” Rarity said, bringing over two cups of tea. She served Frederic first then returned to her seat. “While it would be best for both you and Octavia if you moved forward, I do know how… problematic that can be,” she said. “I remember I cried for days after the Gala ended,” she said, stirring her tea. “I was so heartbroken that I had put so much stock in a stallion that turned out to be completely worthless,” she said. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, who exactly were you after?” Frederic said.

“Blueblood,” Rarity said, almost disgusted by just uttering his name.

“Oh… yeah,” Frederic said, completely understanding what she meant. “Well, at least you don’t have to be around him all the time. That’s a plus, right?”

“I suppose,” Rarity said, unconvinced. “I still feel like I wasted a monumental amount of time and energy on him—neither of which I will ever get back.”

“Truthfully, I don’t think I’d want it back,” Frederic snarked, eliciting a small laugh from Rarity. “You can do better than that.”

“Well, I know that,” said Rarity, “but I wouldn’t want to say it.” She then drank some of the tea, reveling in the warmth it brought. Frederic did the same, enjoying it completely. A few moments of silence passed, and Frederic simply looked at Rarity. Now that he thought about it, she was a rather lovely mare. The way she kept herself groomed almost to perfection and her soft, sapphire eyes really stood out to him. He felt as though he had never really looked at her before. He then began to go through a mental checklist of sorts: she was attractive, they had similar interests, was obviously kind-hearted…

Wait… Frederic thought. What am I doing? Why am I evaluating Rarity? he wondered, somewhat confused. He wasn’t sure what to think… or to feel. Frederic was pulled from his thoughts as Rarity began to speak to him.

“Frederic? Are you alright? You’ve been looking my way for a few moments now,” Rarity asked. Frederic blushed slightly in embarrassment.

“Oh, um, fine,” Frederic said, swallowing nervously. Rarity took notice of this, suddenly self-conscious.

Was he staring at me? Rarity thought, her heart skipping slightly. Was I staring at him?

Damn, she caught me staring! I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird! Frederic thought, panicking for a brief moment. Wait, why am I panicking!?

Another period of awkward silence permeated the room as the two averted their gazes, Rarity suddenly taking a deep interest in her hooves while Frederic examined the small cracks in the ceiling.

Breaking the silence, Rarity cleared her throat. “So, what do you plan to do next?” she asked.

“Easy,” Frederic said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “I’m resigning.”

“What?!”

“I don’t think there’s a way to really recover from my actions the other night,” said Frederic. “I can’t imagine many ponies still wanting to work with somepony who’s liable to flake in the middle of performance.”

“But surely, you’re not going to… do that again. This was one circumstance.”

“Perhaps,” said Frederic, nodding slowly. “But would they believe that?”

“Frederic, these are ponies you’ve worked with. They should know you better than that.”

“That’s just it Rarity—they know me and I know them too well…” Frederic said with a small sigh. “Until I shake this, maybe it would be best for me to resign, or maybe just take a leave of absence… I can teach lessons and work as rehearsal pianist, at least, so it’s not like I’ll be without work, but I think it best if I just avoid Octavia for a while.”

“Promise me that you’ll at least apologize to her first,” Rarity said.

“Of course I will, I owe her that much at the very least… I just don’t know how to go about it,” Frederic admitted.

“Well…” said Rarity, thinking on it. “Maybe it would be best to compose your thoughts and think about what you should say.” She paused for a moment. “I could help you with it.”

“That would be a big help,” Frederic said.

“Think nothing of it,” Rarity said. “Though I can imagine how difficult to be to apologize for a feeling, whether good or bad. I think the first thing you need to do is be honest.”

“Thinking on it a little more, perhaps apologizing to Octavia won’t be so difficult,” Frederic said. “My biggest concern would be dealing with Vinyl. I can only imagine how upset she is…”

“I suppose I can understand why she’d be upset,” Rarity said. “Only to a point, though. She needs to understand that public displays of affection like what you saw can have an adverse effect on others with what happened to you being a prime example.”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by heavy knocking on the front door.





“FREDERIC!” Vinyl yelled, absolutely furious as she pounded on Rarity’s front door. They had discovered where he was through a nosy neighbor. “Get out here now! You’re not getting away from me again!”

“Vinyl I’m begging you, please stop! You’re going to cause a scene!” Octavia pleaded.

“Oh, right, because everyone’s allowed to cause a scene but me!” said Vinyl. “At least I’m only embarrassing you and not a bunch of ponies who bought tickets!” she spat.





Frederic blanched at the sound of Vinyl yelling his name, turning a shade of white that almost matched Rarity’s coat. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

Rarity took a deep breath, and exhaled. “You let me handle this,” she said. She got up from her seat, marched to the front door, and threw it open. 

“Rarity, I need to see Frederic,” Vinyl insisted.

“Absolutely not, not in that state,” Rarity refused.

“Listen, you need to understand that—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. What I understand, is that the reason this all happened was because of a public display of affection that Frederic incidentally bore witness to, and you thoughtlessly went after him as if he was the one at fault! I understand the two of you deeply care for one another and that you wish to show it, but what you need to understand is that when you do that sort of thing in public, it affects other ponies, and unfortunately this time it was Frederic that got caught in the crossfire!” Rarity said forcefully.

Vinyl stared, dumbfounded. “Is this a joke? Is he really going down that road?” she scoffed. “He’s just being petty! He’s being a selfish—”

“Don’t you think he already knows that? Don’t you think he’s beaten himself up enough over this whole mess? Because the stallion that’s sitting in my kitchen right now isn’t even a fraction of the stallion that was described to me last night! The stallion in there is a humbled, guilt-ridden, heartbroken individual that has no idea how to deal with it!” Rarity said. “Also, the only ‘joke’ here is the fact that you can’t seem to grasp that Frederic’s heart is in pieces and last night you inadvertently made it worse,” Rarity said, interrupting her again.

“Oh, so, somehow this is now all my fault?” Vinyl scoffed. “I’ve been the one trying to extend the olive branch! I, I, I, I took him out to the club! I went to the opera and sat through that speak-singing stuff!”

“Recitative,” Octavia mumbled.

Rarity had had enough. “What you didn’t do was try to get his perspective on things! The poor stallion broke down in front of me only minutes ago, and you expect me to let you see him so you can do more damage?” Rarity then dug in her hooves. “You will have to move me first,” she uttered, staring Vinyl straight in the eye. She then looked at Octavia. “You may enter, Octavia. He has been meaning to apologize,” she then returned her glare to Vinyl. “But until you settle down, you’re not setting one hoof in my home!”

“Rarity, don’t make me make you move,” Vinyl warned.

“Oh, I would love to see you try,” Rarity said.

“Vinyl, that’s enough!” Octavia commanded, finally putting her hoof down. “You getting bent out of shape does nothing for the situation! Now wait here, patiently.”

“But—”

“No buts!” Octavia said.

“Fine,” Vinyl said as Octavia moved past her.





Octavia did as she was told, making her way past Rarity and into the Boutique. She quietly made her way to the kitchen, where Frederic was quietly drinking his tea, staring out the nearby window. He seemed tense and a little on-edge.

“Frederic?” Octavia called quietly. 

Frederic just about jumped out of his skin, getting out of his chair and nearly lifting the chair with his front hooves. “Don’t make me use this!” Frederic said, realizing who he was speaking to was Octavia. “Oh… h-hello, Octavia…” he stammered, returning to his seat, to which Octavia took the seat across from him.

“Are you alright?” Octavia asked.

“Well, I…” said Frederic. “I’m not sure I really know how to answer that.” He then gave a small sigh. “First and foremost, I want to apologize for yelling at you,” he said. “It was a panic response. I was confused, frustrated, and in all sorts of mental and emotional disarray and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I accidentally took it out on you, and that isn’t fair.” He took another breath. “I’m sorry, Octavia.”

“It’s okay, Frederic… I guess I’m just a little confused as to why this happened,” Octavia said.

Frederic went through the process of telling Octavia what he had seen and how it made him feel, albeit with a lesser amount of difficulty than he had with Rarity.

“I’m sorry Frederic, I had no idea you saw that,” Octavia said, feeling slightly ashamed of herself. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have reacted the same way…”

“I… Know I shouldn’t. Vinyl’s reaction might be a little… large, but I can’t really fault her for it. What I did was inexcusable. I disrupted the performance, I upset you, I embarrassed our fellow performers… and I got drunk again last night. I tried to drink away my pain and all it ended up doing was making things worse for myself.”

“Was that when you wrote your resignation?”

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” said Octavia. “Harpo ate it.”

“Oh,” said Frederic. “Well… No. I was sober for that. That was this morning, when I took a good look at myself—drenched in scotch, hungover, my apartment a complete mess… I felt that I would only continue to be a hindrance to the group if I continued to carry on this way.”

“Please Frederic, don’t resign,” Octavia pleaded. “We need you, you’re essential to the cohesiveness of our group,” she said.

“Perhaps I was too hasty in saying I would resign, though I… I suppose some time off would do me some good,” Frederic relented.

“That much I can accept,” Octavia said, relieved. “As your friend and as somepony who cares about you, all I want is what is best for you, and I know deep down in your heart that leaving our group is not what you want.”

“Forgive me if this comes off a little rudely, but for now, I feel I need to get away from you,” Frederic said, feeling sadness and guilt wrack his heart. “I know that sounds like a horrible thing to say, but I feel that maybe I’ll finally break this if I stay away from you for a time.”

Octavia sighed, her expression mirroring the sadness she felt. “I understand,” she murmured.

“I hope you don’t think any less of me for saying that,” Frederic said softly.

“I’ll admit it does make me sad to hear it, but I understand. If that’s what it takes to get you back to where you need to be, then by all means, don’t stop on my account,” Octavia stated. 

“Right,” Frederic said. “If… it’s alright with you, I think I need some time alone.”

“Understood,” Octavia said. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, you too...” Frederic replied. Octavia trotted over to him and gave him a quick embrace, turning to leave. 

“You’re welcome to come back whenever you’re ready,” Octavia assured.

“Yeah…” Frederic said softly, the knot forming in his throat again. Octavia then disappeared from view, making her way back to the front door where Rarity was still talking to Vinyl.

“Thank you, Rarity. I’ll be going now,” Octavia stated.

“But what about—”

“We’re leaving,” Octavia said forcefully. “Frederic’s had enough for one day.”

Vinyl grumbled, then acquiesced. “Fine,” she said. The couple bid farewell to Rarity, heading back to their apartment. 

Rarity approached him. “Well… how did it go?”

“Probably about as well as it could have…” said Frederic. “I will say this, though…”

“What’s that, Frederic?”

“I could really use a hug,” Frederic croaked, his voice cracking. Rarity silently made her way to Frederic, wrapping her forelegs around him. His head rested on her chest, her heart beating in Frederic’s ear. He simply closed his eyes, allowing himself to be washed away by his emotions as Rarity simply held him, offering a comforting body for him to support himself on.
> Chapter Eight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now, play the passage again, this time accenting the third note of the phrase,” said Frederic.

The colt looked at the piano with a frustrated expression. “Again?” he asked. “But this is boring!”

“It might seem boring now,” said Frederic, “but this is the best way to make sure you have complete control over the phrase.” The colt played through the passage again,  not missing a single note. “Okay, good. Now again, this time accenting the fourth note.”

“But—”

“Just trust me,” Frederic said with a small smile. The colt did as he was told, accenting the fourth note. “And the fifth.”

The colt did so. This repeated for the sixth, seventh, eighth, and so on.

“Good,” said Frederic. “Now, play the whole phrase.”

The colt did so, playing the phrase, and every note had the same emphasis—none of them stuck out as louder than the other. It was a completely even, consistent sound.

“There,” said Frederic. “See?”

“Woah…” the colt said, impressed.

“Now you can speed up. After you do the exercise,” said Frederic. “Just make sure you do it every day.”

“Okay!” the cold said excitedly. “Thanks Mister Frederic! See you next week!”

“Not a problem, see you then,” Frederic said with a smile as he drew out the piano’s key cover, setting it down over the keyboard gently. The colt ran off, rejoining his mother as she trotted by, the two leaving together. Frederic gave a small sigh. “Well, that was my last lesson for today. I think I’ve earned a little treat. Perhaps a nice warm pastry from Sugarcube Corner...” he said to himself, getting up and leaving the music room. He didn’t feel comfortable being cooped up in his apartment all day, so he figured that perhaps he could volunteer at Cheerilee’s school-house. “Oh, I should thank Cheerilee for letting me use her music room,” he said to himself. He made his way to the front of the school-house, finding Cheerilee sitting behind her desk, grading papers. She noticed Frederic as he entered the room.

“All done, Frederic?”

“For today, yes. I’ll be back next week,” Frederic said. “I also wanted to thank you for allowing me to volunteer to give piano lessons.”

“Oh Frederic, I should be thanking you for volunteering! The children love watching you play and I daresay you’d make a great teacher,” Cheerilee said. “Have you ever considered it?”

“Maybe once or twice, but at the end of the day, I just can’t stay away from the ivory keys,” Frederic said assuredly.

“I completely understand. You have a nice day Frederic,” Cheerilee said.

“Same to you,” Frederic replied, exiting the school-house. He took a step outside, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Some time had past since he had decided to take his leave of absence, and it had done him a world of good. He felt his energy coming back, the world felt just a bit brighter and the air smelled a bit sweeter. “Now, about that pastry!” he said to himself, making his way into town.





“Are you guys sure this thing’s safe?” Sweetie Belle asked, examining the motorized contraption before them. “Or legal?”

“Sure it is!” Scootaloo said, fanning a hoof at her. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna be fine! I mean, if Rainbow Dash can handle going as fast as she does, then why can’t we?”

“There’s a couple of things wrong with that line a’ thinkin’, Scoots,” Applebloom stated, now fairly certain that their safety was a legitimate concern.

“C’mon guys! This is gonna be the one, I can feel it!” Scootaloo said, her eyes shining like stars as she thought of the possibility of having a speed-related cutie mark like her idol Rainbow Dash.

“That’s what you said last time, and I’m still picking dirt from weird places!” Sweetie Belle protested.

“I’m startin’ to have my doubts…” Applebloom said. She slowly inched away from the contraption, suddenly stopping when Scootaloo swung a foreleg around her shoulders.

“C’mon Applebloom! Just think of the possibilities! Don’t you want to have an awesome go-kart-racing cutie mark, or, or a cutie mark that’s a lightning bolt with flaming wheels?” Scootaloo said.

“That does sound cool…” Applebloom said, a smile creeping across her face. Scootaloo then trotted over to Sweetie Belle, giving her the same speech.

“Flaming wheels?” Sweetie Belle asked, unconvinced. “I dunno…”

“What about flaming wings?” Scootaloo asked, raising an eyebrow. Sweetie’s jaw dropped at the mental image. She saw herself, much older and carrying a racing helmet under her foreleg, a steely gaze in her eyes as she posed for the photographers, flashing her flaming lightning bolt wings cutie mark. Her pupils widened, her irises all but disappearing.

“Let’s do it!” Sweetie Belle said, completely sold on the idea.

“Awesome!” Scootaloo squealed. “Besides, I brought helmets, so we’ll be fine!” Applebloom then looked at Sweetie Belle.

“She did bring helmets…” Applebloom said.

“It would be rude not to use them!” Sweetie Belle snickered. The three fillies put on their helmets, strapping themselves into the contraption.

“Alright fillies, hold onto your butts!” Scootaloo said, manning the controls.

“Don’t say the ‘B’ word!” said Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo would have heard her had she not turned the key, the motor roaring to life under the hood.

“Here we go!” Scootaloo yelled, stamping her hoof on the pedal, the go-kart rocketing forward at a speed none of them could have imagined.

“Did anyone fasten their seatbelts!?” yelled Scootaloo.

“What’s that?” shouted the other two.

It was at this point that an oddly alien feeling of dread occurred to Scootaloo. “O-Okay, I think it’s time to slooow dooown!” she yelled, putting her hoof on the brake pedal. She applied pressure, and the pedal snapped like a dried twig, disappearing behind them almost instantaneously. “Uh oh!”

“‘Uh oh’!? What do you mean ‘uh oh’!?” Applebloom yelled. “Hit the brakes already!”

“That’s just it! The brake pedal broke!” Scootaloo replied, now panicking.

“They shouldn’t call it that!” squeaked Sweetie Belle.

They had little time to discuss the naming of parts, however, as they were now rocketing towards town at high speed with no way to stop themselves. 

“M-maybe we’ll slow down on our own!” Applebloom said, trying to keep calm. Scootaloo’s eyes widened.

“Not if that gets in our way!” Scootaloo yelled, pointing at a large, sloping rock just ahead, the cart now on a direct collision course. The fillies held onto each other tightly as the cart hit the rock, launching them upward and in separate directions. Scootaloo landed in a tree, dazed and confused. Applebloom landed in the fountain, no worse for wear than having gained a new fear of heights. Unfortunately for Sweetie Belle, fate had other plans in mind for her, the poor filly getting launched the furthest from the point of impact.





Frederic sighed contentedly, having thoroughly enjoyed his pastry. “Thank you again, Mr. Cake. Your apple tarts are as good as ever,” he said as he paid for an extra one to take home.

“Why, thank you kindly! Come on back anytime,” Mr. Cake said with a smile.

Frederic exited the building, pastry in hoof, wondering what to do next. Maybe I should go back to the apartment and practice, he thought. Or maybe go to the park. Suddenly, the sound of a loud bang not far from where he was standing echoed through the town, Frederic turning towards the source of the sound. Three objects soared through the air, one landing in a tree, another in the nearby fountain… and the third heading straight for him.

Oh hell— Frederic barely had time to think as Sweetie Belle barreled headlong into him, colliding with his chest helmet-first. The two tumbled end over end, ending up more than ten feet from where Frederic was standing.

Ow… Thought Frederic, lying on his back. I think I’m in pain…

“Ugh… ow, my hoof…” Sweetie Belle groaned, tears welling up in her eyes as the pain overwhelmed her. Frederic blinked the stars out of his eyes, recognizing the voice as Sweetie Belle’s.

“S-Sweetie Belle? Are you alright?” Frederic asked, finding it rather difficult to breathe. 

“My hoof…” Sweetie sniffled. “I think it’s broken,” she said. “Rarity’s gonna kill me…”

“Nevermind that, we need to get you medical attention,” Frederic said, shakily clambering to his hooves and resting Sweetie Belle on his back. He ignored the massive, throbbing pain in his head, focusing instead on getting Sweetie Belle the help she needed. Sweetie Belle blinked the tears out of her eyes, looking at Frederic from where she sat. She gasped as she saw that part of Frederic’s normally white mane was stained a deep crimson, a rather serious-looking gash visible on the top of his head.

“Frederic!” Sweetie Belle said, now terrified that he had been hurt because of her.

“Just relax, you’re going to be okay!” Frederic said, picking up the pace. He found his vision was becoming blurry. 

“But Frederic—!” Sweetie protested.

“It’s okay, Sweetie Belle… Hold on,” Frederic said, now breaking into a gallop. Whew… I am hurting… is it normal to have this much trouble breathing? he thought. He made his way towards Ponyville General Hospital, entering in through the emergency room. Several ponies gasped and jumped out of his way when they saw the state he was in as he made his way to the check-in desk.

“Excuse me, I need your help,” Frederic said urgently.

“I can see that! What happened to you!?” the nurse behind the counter asked, shocked at his appearance.

“Forget about me, just tend to her,” Frederic said curtly, allowing Sweetie Belle to slide off his back. “She hurt her hoof in an accident,” he said.

“Sir, do you understand that you’re bleeding profusely?” the nurse asked, desperately searching for towels to stem the flow of blood down Frederic’s head and neck.

“What? I am?” He looked down, seeing his coat stained by trails of blood running from different angles he could not see. He then looked behind him, his eyes following a long, red trail leading to where he was standing. He then felt a warm trickle down his face, raising a hoof and touching it. After examining that it was in fact his blood, he then looked at the nurse.“Oh,” he said calmly, wiping his hoof on his chest as his legs started to wobble. “So I am...” he mumbled as the world faded to black.





Frederic heard the dull hum of a fan and saw a little red through his eyelids before they slowly fluttered open. “Grmm…?”

He turned his head from side to side. He was in a hospital room; sanitized and sterilely white. He inhaled slowly, feeling his chest aching terribly. “Ugh…” he groaned. The nurse that was in the room checking his file looked up, stunned.

“Y-You’re awake! Thank goodness! I need to alert the doctor!” she said, hurrying off and out the door. A few moments later, the doctor and a couple of other nurses entered. 

“Welcome back, Frederic,” the doctor said. “We thought we had lost you for a while there,” he said.

“Wh… what do you mean?” Frederic asked weakly.

“You lost quite a bit of blood there from that cut on your head, sport. Not to mention you’ve got a nasty concussion. You lost consciousness due to blood loss, and with a concussion, well…” the doctor said.

“‘Well’ what?” Frederic asked.

“Well, a concussion can be a fairly severe, at times fatal injury. It can cause encephalitis, or inflammation of the brain. If the brain swells to a certain point it can be lethal. Normally when a pony falls asleep or loses consciousness with a concussion… there’s a good chance they don’t wake up,” the doctor said seriously. The gravity of the situation finally hit Frederic, the stallion staring at his hooves.

“You mean… I almost died?” Frederic asked.

“Thankfully, not in this case. Your vitals stabilized after we gave you an emergency transfusion. What’s great is that your blood type is AB positive, meaning you can receive a transfusion from anypony. We just weren’t sure if you were going to wake up again,” the doctor stated. “Tell me, do you remember any of the events from earlier this afternoon?” he asked, drawing a notepad and pen.

“Well, I remember leaving Sugarcube Corner… I remember hearing a loud bang, and I remember Sweetie Belle flying towards me, then…” Suddenly a sharp pain hit Frederic, causing him to wince. “After that it’s a blank…”

The doctor nodded as he wrote down what Frederic told him. “Typical symptoms of a concussion. You may experience sporadic memory loss and headaches.”

“What about Sweetie Belle? Is she okay?” Frederic asked, concerned.

“She’s just fine, just a small hoof fracture,” the doctor said with a light chuckle. “Don’t stress yourself, you don’t want to pop a staple,” he said.

“A staple? You had to staple my head closed?” Frederic asked, turning pale.

“It was the fastest way to get the wound shut and stop the bleeding,” the doctor explained. “The good thing is that it’s near the crown of your head so the scar won’t be visible unless it’s looked for,” he said. “Now, the most important thing for you right now is to stay calm and not stress yourself. I also need you to stay awake for a while. We can’t have you going back to sleep until your brain scans come back. I’m going to prescribe you a drip of some amphetamines through your IV to keep you up.”

“Okay…” Frederic said, nodding.

“If you need to get up, please call for help. You have a few cracked ribs, so the last thing we both need is for you to make that worse,” the doctor added.

“A concussion and cracked ribs?”

“Well, judging by the story I got from Sweetie Belle, she collided with you helmet-first right into your chest. The receptionist noted you were having difficulty breathing, so we did an X-Ray while you were out and the image showed two cracked ribs on your upper left rib-cage and two by the sternum on the right side. That is going to be a more difficult recovery, so the less you fight it, the better,” he advised.

“Oh,” said Frederic. “Will I be able to dance?”

“I don’t see why not,” the doctor said.  “once you’ve recovered, that is.”

“Good, ‘cause I couldn’t before,” he said dryly.

The doctor gave a hearty laugh. “Good to know you’ve still got your sense of humor.”

“I’m not so sure. That might be the concussion.”

“Two for two, Frederic,” the doctor said, making a few notes. “I’ll be back in a while to check on you. You can have visitors as long as they don’t cause a ruckus or make you uncomfortable,” the doctor said as he left.

“Understood,” Frederic said. The nurse came and changed the IV bag, switching it to the amphetamines the doctor had prescribed. Frederic felt himself feel more alert and awake after a short while. It was then that there was a gentle knock at the door.

“Come in,” Frederic said softly.

In trotted Scootaloo, sporting a black eye from her crash landing in the tree. Applebloom entered next, looking very humbled and disciplined. Sweetie Belle entered last, completing the set, walking on a crutch to support her broken hoof. They were followed by Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Rarity, who all looked exceedingly upset at the fillies.

“Ya know why we’re here, so get to it already,” Rainbow Dash said, nudging Scootaloo forward.

“You heard her, get to it,” Applejack mirrored sternly to Applebloom.

“Now,” Rarity enforced, Sweetie Belle gently approaching the edge of his bed.

“We’re sorry you got hurt…” the fillies all said in unison.

“We didn’t mean for that to happen! It just… kinda did,” Scootaloo said sadly. Frederic could tell that there was no intentional harm meant by the fillies.

“We just got caught up in trying to find our cutie marks… again,” Applebloom added dejectedly. “We didn’t think this would happen…”

“I’m so sorry, Frederic,” Sweetie Belle squeaked, on the verge of tears. “You got hurt because of me, and—and I—” Sweetie Belle stopped when she felt Frederic ruffle her mane gently.

“Hey, it’s alright,” said Frederic. “I wasn’t watching where I was going…” He blinked. “Look both ways before you cross…” he said with a small chuckle, wincing from the pain.

“Thank you for saving me,” Sweetie Belle said earnestly. “I don’t know where I’d be if you weren’t standing there,” she said.

“Well, better me than you, right?” Frederic said.

“Better not at all…” Sweetie said sadly.

“Well, as long as you learned from this, then I’m not upset,” Frederic said. “...You did learn from this, didn’t you?” he said, feigning being upset. The fillies all nodded frantically, Frederic smiling. “Then all’s well. Also, I get free hospital food.”

“Uhh, but there are hospital bills,” said Rainbow Dash. “If you need help, let me know. I can pull a couple of strings if I need to. I’ve been here more times than I have feathers on my wings.”

“Oh… right… well, I’ve been saving my bits so I think I should be okay,” said Frederic. “Well… at least there’s the food?”

“You don’t want any of what they’re servin’. I’ll bring by some apples for you tomorrow,” Applejack offered. “It’s the least we can do,” she said. “Applebloom will bring them to you,” she said, looking at her younger sister. “Right, Applebloom?” The filly nodded in response, feeling a little better now that there was a way for her to help out.

“I can help!” Scootaloo offered. “Is it okay if I help?” she asked, turning to Applejack.

“Sure thing, Scoots. That’s a very kind gesture,” Applejack said.

“Thank you, all of you, I appreciate you all being willing to help,” Frederic said. “I hate to be discourteous, but if it’s alright I’d like to rest,” he said. “I can’t necessarily sleep but some time to just close my eyes would be nice.”

“Gotcha,” Rainbow Dash said. “C’mon Scoots, let’s go,” she said, to which Scootaloo quietly obeyed. Applejack and Applebloom followed suit, leaving Sweetie Belle and Rarity.

“I don’t really have anything to offer you to help, but maybe this will be enough,” Sweetie Belle said as she gently laid her crutch down, edged closer to Frederic and gave him a gentle hug. Frederic smiled, patting the filly on the back.

“Thank you, that really means a lot Sweetie,” Frederic said. Sweetie Belle smiled, grabbing her crutch.

“Wait for me outside, Sweetie. I’d like to talk to Frederic alone,” Rarity said.

“Okay,” Sweetie said, exiting the room. Rarity moved over to the edge of the bed.

“Thank you, Frederic,” Rarity said. “Thank you so much for both saving Sweetie Belle and getting her the help she needed. I don’t know what I’d do if something were to happen to her!”

“It was the only thing to do,” said Frederic. “What was the other option? Not do it?”

“Even so, the fact that you selflessly risked your own well-being for hers is a debt I can’t even fathom repaying,” Rarity said. “When I found out that you and Sweetie had gotten hurt, I… I had no idea what to do with myself,” she said, her voice shaking. “The idea that I could have lost one or both of you was just too much…” she said, wiping an eye.

“Well, as long as I don’t pass out, that won’t be a problem,” said Frederic, smiling. “And I’m feeling okay, so…”

“What did the doctor say?” Rarity asked.

“Well… apparently I have a few cracked ribs, I suffered a concussion, and I had a cut on my head bad enough to require a transfusion and staples to close it,” Frederic repeated. Rarity’s face fell, the mare giving a sad sigh.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Rarity said. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask me,” she said.

“You’ll be the first pony I reach out to, rest assured,” Frederic said, trying to adjust himself but finding difficulty.

“Do you need help?” Rarity offered.

“Perhaps a little, I’m just a bit uncomfortable,” Frederic replied. She leaned over the bed, gently helping him where possible to make sure he was comfortable. “Thank you, that’s better.”

“Think nothing of it. If you’re alright with it, I’ll stop by throughout the day for the next few days to help you if you need it,” Rarity said.

“I don’t see a problem with it, personally,” Frederic said.

“Another thing—have your parents been informed?” Rarity asked. Frederic then thought about it.

“I should probably tell my parents…” Frederic said. “If you could send them a letter I’d appreciate it,” he said.

“Say no more. I just need your parents’ address and to whom I’m addressing it to,” Rarity said. “I’ll deliver it myself if I have to,” she assured. She then conjured a small notepad and pen.

“The address is 540 Canterlot Court, Canterlot, Equestria. My father’s name is Henri F. Horseshoepin,” Frederic dictated as Rarity wrote it down.

“Done, I’ll send the letter straight away,” Rarity said. “Oh… and one more thing,” she said. She then leaned over the edge of the bed, giving Frederic a gentle kiss on the cheek. Frederic felt his head ache as his face flushed a bright pink. Rarity blushed brightly as well, smiling. “Just a small reward for saving my little sister,” she said with a wink.

“Well…” he said, laughing a little. “Do I say ‘thank you’ or ‘you’re welcome’?”

“Get better and we’ll talk about it,” Rarity said with a smirk. “Get some rest, okay? No falling asleep. I’ll be back in the morning with a change of clothes for you,” she said.

“My keys should be there by the door,” Frederic said. Rarity grabbed his keys, tucking them away into her pouch.

“See you in the morning,” Rarity said.

“See you,” Frederic said as the door closed. He raised a hoof to where Rarity had kissed him, a smile etched on his face.

Once Rarity had returned home, she quickly got to work. She grabbed a quill and parchment, scribbling down the notice that Frederic had requested she send to his parents. She signed it, sealed it, and sent it away with magic. “The sooner they get here, the better,” she said to herself. “I wonder what his parents are like…”





Rarity quietly sat across from Frederic, humming to herself as she did minor threadwork on a pair of hoof-mittens she was fixing for Sweetie Belle. Frederic was resting quietly, finally able to sleep after the doctor had cleared him to do so. 

“Please Sweetie Belle, do try to keep these away from Opal this time,” she said.

“Okay… she looked really cute in them, though...” Sweetie replied softly. “This cast itches!”

“Well, let that itchiness be a reminder next time you want to try something like that again,” Rarity said. The two ponies looked up, suddenly hearing a commotion in the hallway. It sounded like two ponies frantically looking for somepony. Rarity set down the mittens and made her way to the door, Sweetie grabbing her crutches and following her older sister. Rarity opened the door, coming to find two very lost, very frantic ponies.

“He has to be here somewhere, Orianne! Relax!” the stallion said, peering at his wife through his glasses.

“Mon bebe!” the mare cried out, her green eyes darting left and right behind a mane of bright gold and ruby strands. “Where is my baby!? Where is my Frederic!?”

“Frederic?” Rarity asked. “Are you Frederic’s parents?” The two ponies looked over at her, quickly making their way over to her.

“Yes, we are! Do you know where he is?” the stallion asked. “Wait, are you Rarity?”

“Yes, I am, he’s right through—” Rarity started, but was suddenly stopped when the mare swept her up in a tight embrace.

“Oh, merci étoiles bénies de Luna!” Orianne said. “We are so lucky that Frederic found himself such a loving marefriend that would go out of her way to inform us of his predicament in his stead!” Rarity blushed such a bright shade of red she almost matched Orianne’s mane.

“M-Marefriend!? I-I—no, I’m not—” Rarity stammered, embarrassed.

“Orianne, please, vous embarrassez la pauvre fille!” the stallion said. “I do apologize, Rarity. My name is Henri. Henri Francois Horseshoepin, Frederic’s father,” he said, introducing himself. Henri was a rather handsome stallion for his age, his black mane sprinkled with streaks of white offset by a light brown coat and golden eyes. Orianne let go of Rarity, recomposing herself.

“I apologize as well, I am Orianne Cerise Horseshoepin, Frederic’s mother,” she added. Frederic’s mother was stunning. Her ivory white coat matched Rarity’s, punctuated with forest green irises and a mane mixed with ruby and gold.

“It’s quite alright,” Rarity said with a small, slightly awkward laugh. Sweetie Belle then approached, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Who are they?” Sweetie asked. Orianne took notice of the filly, suddenly seeing a great resemblance between Rarity and Sweetie Belle, and her jaw about fell off.

“Is—is—is that your daughter? My grandchild!?” Orianne asked, shocking Rarity even further. “Henri, je me sens faible!” she said, gesturing to her husband as her knees buckled.

“Daughter!?” Rarity and Sweetie Belle gasped.

“I didn’t come out of that!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity chided, to which Sweetie recoiled. “She—she’s my little sister, I promise!” Henri rolled his eyes at his wife’s over-theatrics. Orianne shook herself to regain her footing, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“I am terribly sorry for the misunderstanding, I… I just have not been well since we received your letter. Please, let me see Frederic,” Orianne begged.

“Oh, of course, please come in!” Rarity said, ushering the couple into the hospital room. What the two saw broke their hearts. Orianne quietly approached Frederic, gently brushing his mane from his face while he slept.

“Oh… my poor, little baby boy,” she murmured, choking back tears as she leaned forward, giving her son a gentle kiss on his forehead. Henri remained silent. He approached the other side of Frederic’s bed, gently taking his hoof.

“My son…” Henri said with a heavy sigh.

Frederic stirred slightly, sighing contentedly as his eyes slowly opened. The peaceful, dreamy smile on his face broke as his expression took on a look of near-mortification. Orianne gasped in elation as Frederic awoke.

“What is this?” asked Frederic in a shocked near-monotone.

“Oh, Frederic! You’re awake! My baby’s awake!” Orianne exclaimed as she held him close, unable to contain her joy.

“Thank the Princesses…” Henri said, placing a hoof to his chest. “We were so worried when we received Rarity’s letter that we came as quickly as we could,” he explained.

“I feel like a terrible mother! I should have been here sooner!” Orianne said, looking Frederic over as if she was hoping to find something the doctors had not.

“I’m… fine…” said Frederic. “I just hit my head.” Orianne parted his mane, seeing the staples that were put in place, her jaw falling slack for a moment. She then looked at Frederic again, her eyes welling with fresh tears.

“I’m just so happy my baby’s okay,” Orianne squeaked, gently cradling Frederic’s head to her chest. “Je ne sais pas ce que je ferais si je te perdais…”

“Yes… Yes I know,” said Frederic, trying to not appear ungrateful but also having just a little difficulty containing his embarrassment. Orianne then looked to Rarity again, who had quietly retaken her seat so as not to interrupt the touching moment unfolding before her. 

“Rarity, I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done,” Orianne said, taking Rarity’s hooves into her own.

“Believe me, it was no trouble at all,” Rarity said. 

“Please excuse my forwardness, but... what exactly happened to Frederic?” Henri asked.

“I can tell you, but before I do, I feel the need to inform you that part of the reason Frederic is in this state is due to an accident that my little sister was involved in,” Rarity said, Sweetie Belle scooting closer to her.

“It was an accident, I swear! I was just trying to get my cutie-mark with my friends and it went really, really wrong and Frederic saved me and—” Sweetie Belle stammered, her voice dripping with anxiety and guilt. Orianne stooped low to meet the filly, calmly running a gentle hoof through Sweetie’s mane. Sweetie Belle felt herself relax, gazing into the mare’s deep green eyes.

“S'il te plaît, n'ais pas peur. Je ne suis pas en colère avec toi,” Orianne said softly, “I’m certain a filly as sweet as yourself didn’t mean any harm,” she said.

“I would never hurt anypony! Frederic saved my life!” Sweetie Belle said.

“Oh? How did he manage that?” Henri asked.

“He caught me before I hit the ground, and all that happened was I broke a hoof,” Sweetie Belle said, showing her cast. “He then carried me to the hospital even though he was hurt…” she said. Both Orianne and Henri gave each other prideful smiles

“It’s like I said before, what was I supposed to do? Not help?” Frederic said.

“It is that precise line of thinking that makes us proud, Frederic,” Henri said with a smile. “Excellent job, my son.”

“It is because of your son that my sister is still with me here today, and that is something I cannot thank him for enough,” Rarity said with a slight blush. Orianne noticed this, internally making a note of it and tucking it away in the back of her mind. Sweetie Belle then spoke up.

“Can we get something to eat? I’m starving!” Sweetie Belle said.

“That sounds like a marvelous idea, Sweetie,” Rarity said.

“Please, allow me to buy your lunch, it is the absolute least I can do to thank you for your help,” Orianne offered.

“Oh, I couldn’t accept that, Madam Horseshoepin,” Rarity said bashfully.

“Please, I insist,” Orianne said. “And please, my dear, call me ‘Orianne’,” she said with a charming smile. Rarity gave it some thought, then smiled herself.

“Oh, alright,” Rarity said with a polite nod.

“Tres bien!” Orianne said. “We’ll be back soon!” she said cheerily as the mares left, leaving Frederic alone with his father, who took a seat across from him.

“I want you to know I’m very proud of you, Frederic,” Henri said.

“Thank  you, but… I don’t quite understand,” Frederic said.

“The fact that you risked your life to save a filly, putting her safety above your own—putting another pony before yourself at risk of your own wellbeing—that is one of the biggest acts of kindness one pony can do for another, and the fact that you acted so valiantly in a moment of adversity simply validates that your mother and I raised you right,” Henri explained. “You have grown to be such an upstanding, good-hearted stallion, Frederic. I am so proud,” he said, gently patting Frederic’s shoulder.

“Thank you, father… that means a lot,” Frederic said.

“Of course,” Henri said. “I must say though, that Rarity is a darling filly. If I were you, I wouldn’t let her get away,” he advised. “In reading her letter I could tell her concern for you was genuine. Those feelings were confirmed when I saw how she spoke about you just now.”

“What do you mean?” Frederic asked, his heart beating a bit faster in his chest. Perhaps his father could give him a little more insight when it came to Rarity.

“When I was a colt, your grandfather once taught me, ‘La bouche peut mentir, mais les yeux mement jamais’,” Henri said. “While she may have verbally denied being your marefriend, her eyes told a different story. Whether she is unaware of it or she has yet to come to terms with it, I believe that soon enough, the friendship the two of you have will not be enough,” he said. Frederic swallowed, his heart thumping in his chest. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that knowledge.

“How are you so sure?”

“Call it a hunch,” Henri said with a wink.





Rarity, Sweetie Belle, and Orianne made their way out of the hospital, heading towards a nearby restaurant. They sat down to eat, enjoying their meals and chatting with one another.

“So, how did you come to know my son?” asked Orianne.

“Oh, we’ve known each other for… a little while,” said Rarity, thinking on it. “Not all that long. We met at the Grand Galloping Gala a while back. He’s been staying in Ponyville lately.”

“How nice,” Orianne said with a cheery smile. “I remember how excited he was to move here. He had been talking for months about ‘striking out on his own’ and ‘making a name for himself’. I worry for him, though… he was such a timid, little thing as a colt.”

“He played at my birthday party!” said Sweetie Belle.

“Did he now? That was very nice of him,” Orianne said with a smile. “Frederic doesn’t normally do parties for foals… you must be very special for him to make an exception like that.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” said Rarity. “He’d come to me for a suit, and the playing was his way of paying for it.”

“That seems like an even exchange,” Orianne said. She took a moment to look Rarity over, taking in her features. My my, Frederic… you’ve really angled a beautiful mare, haven’t you?

“Most assuredly, and he did a marvelous job of it as well!” Rarity said. “I daresay he’s a virtuoso that the piano, I’ve never felt a piano piece come alive the way they do when Frederic performs,” she added.

Not to mention she’s over the moon for him! Orianne thought. “Oh yes, he inherited his skill from his father. Henri lives and breathes the ivory keys, and he taught Frederic everything he knows about the piano, though I do at times feel Henri was a little too strict on him.”

“How so?” Rarity asked, curious.

“Oh, musician parents,” said Orianne. “An hour a day, three hours a day, five hours a day. That’s what you have to do to do what Frederic does, I suppose.”

“My, that does sound intensive,” Rarity said. “Though I do relate. Sometimes my dress-work can take hours, days even to get done, so I know what it’s like to slave away at something for the sake of what you love,” she mused.

“Oh, you make dresses? I would love to see your work sometime! You must invite me over when you have the opportunity,” Orianne said with a sweet smile.

“Oh, of course, anytime darling!” Rarity said demurely. Orianne then examined her recently-delivered cup of tea, still steaming slightly.

“Rarity… I must thank you. Thank you so much for watching over Frederic in his time of need.”

“Oh, it’s the least I can do,” said Rarity. “After all, what he did for my sister… how could I not repay him?”

“Frederic never really had many friends growing up, so it does my heart so much good to see other ponies caring for him as much as Henri and I do,” Orianne said.

“Well, why wouldn’t we? He’s a good pony,” Sweetie Belle added.

“Yes, he is, and as his mother, I can tell you this: the two of you must mean a great deal to him if he was willing to go so far for you,” Orianne said. “One thing you will come to learn about Frederic is that he never does anything half-way. He either does, or he doesn’t. The fact that he did, means more than you know.”

“Yay!” Sweetie Belle cheered, happy to know that she was special to Frederic.

“D-Do you really think so?” Rarity asked carefully, a small blush brightening her cheeks.

“I know so,” Orianne said with a wink.

“Well… that’s certainly good to know...” Rarity said, unable to keep from smiling. She internally tucked away Orianne’s words into the back of her mind. I wonder just how much I mean to him...

“Speaking of your dresses, would it be too much for me to come by tomorrow?” Orianne asked.

“Tomorrow? I don’t see why not, but aren’t you going back home tonight?” Rarity asked, confused.

“Henri may be going home, but I refuse to leave Frederic until I know he’s home and resting,” Orianne said firmly. “My boy needs his mother, and his mother he shall get!”

“Oh!” said Rarity, wondering just how Frederic would take it. After all, he seemed to be a little embarrassed back in the hospital room. “Do you have someplace you’re staying?”

“Why, where else?” she asked. “With my son, of course!”

“Of course, silly me,” Rarity said with a small laugh. It was then that Sweetie Belle spoke up.

“Rarity, I’m tired, I’m gonna head home,” Sweetie said. 

“Alright, but that had better be the only place you go. Remember, you’re still in trouble for what happened,” Rarity reminded. “You had better be there when I get home” she said.

“It was lovely to meet you, Sweetie Belle,” said Orianne, bowing graciously.

“It was nice to meet you, too! Thanks for not being mad at me,” Sweetie said with a smile.

“Oh, how could I ever be mad at that adorable little face of yours? Even if it did put my son in the hospital,” Orianne said.

“Heh… heh…. yeah…” Sweetie Belle said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Sweetie Belle then left, hobbling back towards the Boutique on her crutch.

“She’s really a good filly, she just gets in over her head,” Rarity explained. “She’s so dead-set on getting her cutie mark that the excitement gets away from her,” she said. “Not a moment goes by where I don’t worry for her…”

“Oh, I understand my dear, Frederic was the same way, if a great deal less aggressive about getting his,” Orianne said, reminiscing. “I remember how frustrated he would get when he would try something new and nothing would come of it. I spent many a day with him nestled against me because he would get so upset he’d dissolve into tears,” she said fondly. “Then one day, I went to pick him up from my father-in-law’s, and he met me at the door with a smile that could have lit all of Equestria and the two, brand new quavers he had on his flank.”

“What a lovely memory to have,” Rarity said. “I can only imagine what it will be like when it comes time for me to be in that position, though I daresay that is still a good ways away,” she said with a small laugh.

“Oh…” She beamed. “Maybe not as far off as you think.” Rarity blushed brightly at Orianne’s remark.

“W-whatever do you mean?” Rarity asked, a bit flustered.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, a wry smile playing across her face. She looked to the clock. “I think I will go see to my husband. It was lovely chatting with you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.”

“Y-yes… yes, of course…” Rarity said, her heart fluttering in her chest. She couldn’t possibly have meant Frederic… could she…?

She is so darling! Frederic, you’d better not let her get away! Orianne thought to herself as she adjourned herself from the table. “Au revoir, Rarity!” she said with a smile.

“Good evening…” Rarity said as Orianne left, leaving her to her thoughts.





Orianne returned to Frederic’s hospital room, finding her husband quietly reading the newspaper as Frederic slept.

“You can head home if you like, Henri. I’ll be staying with Frederic until he is home comfortably,” Orianne said.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should have him come home with us,” Henri suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to inconvenience him to that extent,” Orianne said.

“Very well. Send a letter once he’s home. Let Frederic know I went home when he wakes up,” Henri said.

“Of course dear,” Orianne said. “I will see you in a few days,” she said.

“See you then, mon amour,” Henri said. They shared a quick kiss, and Henri took his leave.

Orianne took the seat that Henri had previously occupied, retrieving a ball of yarn and her crocheting needles, deciding to occupy herself until Frederic awoke. After about an hour in silence, a small knock at the door, grabbing both Orianne and Frederic’s attention.

“Did you enjoy your nap, Frederic?” Orianne asked as she stood up to answer the door.

“I’ve been awake the entire time.”

“You have?” Orianne said. “I must’ve been so engrossed in my crocheting I didn’t notice you had opened your eyes—or were you just resting?” Orianne then answered the door. “May I help you?”

“Oh, we’re here to see Frederic,” a familiar voice said from the other side of the door, sounding just like Vinyl.

“Unfortunately we heard a little late that he had been hospitalized. We would have come sooner,” another voice said, sounding alarmingly like Octavia. 

Oh no, I don’t need this now… Frederic thought. I can’t let her see me like this! He gave a small groan of discomfort as he shifted in bed. Orianne took note of this, turning back to the mares.

“I suppose you can come in for a little while. All I ask is that you do not cause him to over-exert himself,” Orianne said.

“Thank you,” Octavia said. She looked at the mare standing before her, feeling a strange sense of familiarity about her. “I’m sorry, but have we met before? I feel as if I know you from somewhere,” she asked.

“Well, I am Frederic’s mother Orianne,” she replied. “I believe I have met you as well, now that I think about it,” she said.

“We have met, though it was a long time ago. I’m Octavia,” she said.

“I haven’t,” said Vinyl. “But, uh… maybe I’d like to,” she said, raising her eyebrows. Octavia shook her head, and Orianne played it off magnificently.

“Wish granted, you’ve met me,” Orianne said cooly. “I do remember you now, Octavia. You perform often with Frederic, do you not?”

“Well, yes,” said Octavia. “We’re close colleagues.”

“They’re in some kind of avant-garde quartet,” said Vinyl.

“Since when do you know what avant-garde means?” asked Frederic.

“Since Octavia put on a record of some guy named Steel Cage,” said Vinyl, a little exasperation in her voice.

“You poor thing…” Frederic mused.

“She earned it,” Octavia said. “She dropped and cracked one of my records, so her punishment was to listen to Steel Cage’s ‘5’27’ in one sitting.”

“Nothing happened! That’s not music!” Vinyl protested.

“For the hundredth time, it’s called ‘silence in intervals’ Vinyl,” Octavia explained.

“It’s just white noise,” Vinyl said. “It’s not ‘avant-garde’, it’s not ‘music’, it’s not anything!”

“Please, no…” said Frederic. “I left this behind in my university music history class…”

“Moving on from that, what happened to you, Frederic? How badly did you get hurt?” Octavia asked.

“Well, I suffered a blow to the head that caused a concussion and a cut that required staples to seal shut, I suffered a few cracked ribs and bruising under the skin as well as compressed lungs because my sternum was pushed in slightly,” Frederic said, recounting the prognosis from the doctor. Orianne’s eyes went wide as she heard Frederic speak.

“A concussion?!” Orianne exclaimed. “Cracked ribs!? Why wasn’t I told this!?”

“Oh, that wasn’t in the letter?” asked Frederic. “Huh.”

“That wasn’t Rarity’s responsibility!” Orianne said. “I’m your mother, you should tell me these things! Par les etoiles, I had no idea you were this badly hurt!” she said, exasperated. Orianne’s head then whipped to the side, staring directly at Vinyl, who was snickering to herself at the sight of Frederic getting scolded by his mother. “And what are you laughing at?!” Orianne chided forcefully. Vinyl stood stark straight, her expression one of shock.

“N-Nothing, ma’am, I’m sorry,” Vinyl said, swallowing hard.

“‘Nothing’ is right!” Orianne scoffed. “Sit!” she ordered, pointing at the seat, to which Vinyl obeyed. While Frederic was embarrassed that Vinyl was having a bit of fun at his expense, he thoroughly enjoyed watching his mother come to his defense. Octavia was impressed at how effortlessly Orianne was able to discipline Vinyl. 

Maybe I should take notes… Octavia thought to herself.

“Octy… she’s scary,” Vinyl squeaked.

“Of course I’m scary,” said Orianne. “I’m a mother. You will both understand a mother's methods one day,” she added.

“Mother, if I could have a word…?” Frederic said, gesturing to her. Orianne approached him, and he whispered in her ear.

“Of course, my dear,” Orianne said. She then faced Octavia and Vinyl. “I need both of you to leave for the moment. Frederic needs to use the restroom,” she stated.

“Mother!” Frederic sighed, embarrassed.

Vinyl nodded frantically, practically shooting out of her seat. Octavia followed after her.

“She is terrifying,” said Vinyl. “Gorgeous, but terrifying.”

“Well, that’s what you get for laughing at a stallion in the hospital,” Octavia said honestly.

“But it’s Fred, he’s our favorite hopeless romantic,” Vinyl sighed.

“That shouldn’t make a difference,” Octavia said. “Though it does make me happy to see you’re concerned for him, considering how upset you were at him not long ago,” she added.

“Well… nopony deserves whatever happened to him,” Vinyl shrugged. “He may have done something dumb, but he’s not a bad guy. I mean, I still think of him as a friend.”

“I’m glad,” Octavia said. “As long as it continues to be that way, then I don’t have an issue.”

“Sure… just make sure she doesn’t hurt me,” Vinyl said with a shudder.

“As long as you behave, I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.”

Orianne emerged from Frederic’s room shortly thereafter, approaching Octavia and Vinyl. “I think Frederic has had enough visitors for today. He and I both appreciate you coming by to see him,” she said.

“It was no trouble at all. I just feel bad for not coming by sooner,” Octavia admitted.

“The fact that you showed up at all is what matters,” Orianne said with a smile. She then rounded on Vinyl, taking on a stoic expression.

“Did we learn our lesson?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for laughing, it won’t happen again,” Vinyl said.

“As long as you understand,” Orianne said with a wink. “I did not mean to be so tough. Once you become a mother, you will understand why I got the way I did,” she said.

“Maybe some day,” Vinyl said.

“Have a good evening fillies,” Orianne said as she re-entered Frederic’s room, shutting the door behind her.





Orianne shut the door behind her, then retaking her seat. “Do you need anything else, Frederic?” she asked.

“Not at the moment, Mother… though, I am curious, where did Father go?” Frederic asked.

“Oh, he’s catching the train home,” she said. “I’ll be staying.”

“‘Staying’?” Frederic repeated incredulously.

“At first I thought I’d just be staying for a couple of days and see you out of the hospital,” she said. “But a concussion and cracked ribs?” She shook her head. “I will not leave until I know you're recovering well enough on your own.”

“Oh… swell…” Frederic said as he laid back, staring at the ceiling and wondering what immortal being he had crossed to deserve such a fate.

“So many pretty mares in your life, Frederic,” she said. “I’m quite amazed you aren’t married yet.”

“Marriage is the last thing on my mind, Mother…” Frederic sighed. “If anything, I’m trying not to think about it,” he said.

“Well, I wouldn’t rule it out,” Orianne suggested. “If you’ll have your mother’s opinion, I most definitely favor Rarity, hooves down,” she said. Frederic gingerly sat up, looking at his mother.

“Well… I have things I’m dealing with before I consider going down that road,” Frederic said.

“Oh? Like what?” Orianne asked. Frederic sighed.

“Before I do anything else, I’m trying to get over somepony,” Frederic said. Orianne looked at Frederic, scowling.

“Did somepony break up with you? Did she break your heart? Give me a name Frederic and I promise I will make it easier for you! Aucun poney ne brise le cœur de mon fils!” she growled in her native tongue.

“We didn’t ‘break up’, it’s more of a ‘what could have been’ sort of scenario,” Frederic explained.

“You let a mare get away?”

“Mother, not while I’m in the hospital with a concussion…”

“Well, her loss!” Orianne said indignantly. “You don’t need ponies like that in your life, Frederic. Take it from me, you’ll be better off! I certainly hope I never meet that mare!”

You already have, Frederic thought to himself. “Whatever the case may be, I want to get over her before I consider anything with Rari—” Frederic caught himself. Orianne stifled a giggle as Frederic blushed.

“You were going to say ‘Rarity’! Oh, I knew I felt a connection there,” Orianne said with a smile. “You mustn’t let her get away, Frederic. She’s a wonderful, good-hearted and good-natured filly that seems to have been brought up well, she’d make a wonderful addition to the family! I’m only getting older, Frederic, I’d like to have a grandfoal before I’m in a walker,” she stated.

“Really, Mother? Now? You want to have this conversation now, when I’m bedridden?” Frederic groaned.

“What better time than now? You can’t get away,” Orianne said with a laugh, to which Frederic sighed. “In all seriousness Frederic, it’s obvious there’s something there. You would do well to build on it,” she added.

“Whatever the case, I’m not making any decisions until I’m over Octavi—” Frederic started, then stopped when he realized he had accidentally blurted out her name. Damn it! he cursed inwardly.

“You mean to tell me that Octavia was the one you were after? Oh, mon cher, she’s lovely and all, but it’s painfully obvious she loves that mare she was with,” Orianne stated.

“I’m aware of that, Mother, it’s why I’m trying to get over her,” Frederic said. “The fact of the matter is this—until I’m over Octavia, I do not plan to pursue anypony until that is said and done with, even if Rarity…” He grumbled. “...may be a possibility. It wouldn’t be fair to her for me to be hanging on an old flame while trying to start a new one,” he reasoned. Orianne smiled at her son, pleased with what she was hearing.

“An excellent point,” Orianne said. “Whatever makes you happy, my dear,” she said. “...even if Rarity seems like the best choice…” she mumbled under her breath.

“...” Frederic elected not to respond. “I’m going to nap for a while…” he said, having had enough of the conversation.

“Very well, enjoy your nap,” Orianne said. “You know I only say what I do because I love you, right?” she asked.

“...I know,” Frederic said after a moment of silence.

“Good,” said Orianne. She then approached him, giving him a kiss on his forehead. She then returned to her seat as he gingerly rolled over, closing his eyes. “Je t’aime, Frederic,” she said softly.

“...Moi aussi,” Frederic responded. Orianne smiled, returning to her crocheting as Frederic fell asleep.
> Chapter Nine
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Slow and steady, Frederic, we’re in no hurry…” Orianne said, sidling up next to Frederic in case his strength left him. 

“Mother, I’m fine, really,” Frederic repeated. While he was moving slowly due to his shortness of breath and the general soreness in his body, he otherwise felt alright. 

“That’s what they always say before they collapse,” said Orianne. 

Frederic paused. “...Mother, I don’t think that’s ever actually happened.” 

“You say these things because you do not see them from a mother’s perspective,” Orianne reasoned. 

Frederic was not eager to argue on that point, so he kept his mouth shut. 

“Did you inform Rarity that they were discharging you? I would feel terrible if she showed up and you weren’t there,” Orianne said. 

“I’m sure the hospital told them in advance about my expected recovery, the same as they told us,” said Frederic. 

“I sincerely hope you’re right,” Orianne said. “Sometimes those hospitals say they’re going to do things but they never do, like this one time with your father…”

Frederic gave a small sigh, letting his mother talk. He knew better than to try and stop her when she went off on a tangent like this. To Frederic’s credit, Rarity had already been informed of him being discharged and at his request was sent ahead to retrieve the spare key for his mother.





Rarity approached the front door to Frederic’s apartment, looking for anything out of the ordinary. 

“Oh, darn my memory, I can’t remember where he told me he put it,” Rarity grumbled as she checked everywhere she could think. She looked at the doormat, and brushed it off. Too obvious, he’d never put it there… she thought to herself. After a good ten minutes of searching, she gave up. “Where in Equestria did he put that key?” she wondered aloud. As she sat to think, Vinyl and Octavia emerged from their apartment down the hall.

“So it’s like I was saying, I’m trying to get more creative with my mixes. Times are changing and— is that Rarity sitting outside Frederic’s apartment?” Vinyl pointed out. Rarity looked up to the sound of her name.

“Oh, good afternoon, Vinyl!” Rarity said cheerily.

“Hey Rares,” Vinyl said. Octavia appeared a moment later, following behind.

“Oh, hello Rarity, what brings you by?” Octavia asked.

“Well, I had originally come by to get Frederic’s spare apartment key,” Rarity explained. “Have you always lived so close to one another?” 

“Oh, just noticed it last month,” said Vinyl. “That was when things started to get, you know… weird.” 

“Well, I daresay I can imagine. One minute there’s the beautiful sounds of the cello flowing through the wall, and the next there’s…” Rarity pondered for a moment. “Your music,” she said as gently as possible. 

“That’s not the type of weird I meant. What I really meant was—”

“I’m going to have to stop you there, Vinyl,” Octavia said, covering Vinyl’s mouth with a hoof.

“C’mon Octy, Rarity’s a grown mare, she can handle a little dirty talk,” Vinyl said as she gently brushed Octavia’s hoof aside.

“‘Dirty talk’?” Rarity swallowed.

“Yeah, turns out things were a little awkward for Fredboy when we started getting frisky,” Vinyl said. Octavia hid her blush behind a hoof. 

“Why do you always do this to me?” Octavia questioned.

“Because it’s cute when you blush,” Vinyl winked. 

“Well… anyway,” said Rarity. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Frederic keeps his spare key?” 

“Oh, yeah,” said Vinyl. “I have it.”

“You do?” Rarity asked, confused. “Is there a reason why you have Frederic’s spare key, if I may ask?”

“Well, remember how not long ago I kinda wanted to put the hurtin’ on Fred for yelling at Octy? Well, I slipped on his doormat and I found the key under it. I wanted to give it back to him but I kept forgetting,” Vinyl explained.

So he is that predictable… Rarity thought. “Well, if you don’t mind I’ll take it. I need to take it to his mother as she’ll be staying with him for some time,” she said. 

“Oh, okay,” said Vinyl, nodding. Then there was a pause as her expression turned grave. “Oh. Oh. Ohhhh…”

“What are you getting at, Vinyl?” Octavia asked. Rarity remained silent, curious to hear her answer. 

“She… oh no, the booze!” 

“The fact that you are concerned about how much alcohol he owns is a bit worrisome,” Rarity said. “Celestia knows his mother doesn’t need to think he’s an alcoholic.”

“What do you suppose we do about it, though? We can’t just go into his apartment and dump his alcohol,” Octavia said.

“Sure we can,” Vinyl said, holding up the key. “It’s time for a raid!” 

“I can’t say I’m completely comfortable with this…” Rarity expressed.

“We’re doing him a favor Rarity,” Vinyl explained. “We’re saving him grief from his mom…” she then shuddered at the thought of being reprimanded again. “We’re also making sure he doesn’t fall back on alcohol when the going gets tough. We’ve had a couple bad experiences.” She made a ‘you know what I mean’ face. 

“I suppose you’re right… if it’s for his own betterment, then I’ll gladly help,” Rarity said, feeling better now she was able to justify in getting involved. Octavia nodded in agreement, and the three mares made for Frederic’s apartment.





“Careful now, we’re almost at our floor,” Orianne said, assisting Frederic up the stairs. Much to his chagrin, all the time he spent laying in bed had left him a bit weak, so he found himself leaning against his mother for support.

“There we are… almost there…” she encouraged. She looked up and saw Rarity there, smiling serenely. “Oh, hello Rarity!” 

“I got the key, like you asked,” said Rarity, floating the key over to her. 

“Merci beaucoup, mon cherie! You’ve been a big help,” Orianne said. She tucked the key away into her purse, Frederic finally making it to the top. To his shock, his apartment was wide open and the sound of liquid being poured into the sink as well as other things being moved around unsettled him.

“Why is my apartment open? Who’s in my apartment?” Frederic asked, slightly panicked. Vinyl popped her head in the doorway, having heard Frederic’s voice.

“Oh, hey Fred! Good to see you up and about,” Vinyl said. “We’re just taking care of some things before your mom—” Vinyl then noticed Orianne standing beside Frederic. She then faced back inside the apartment. “Octy, hurry it up! They’re here already!”

“The sink only drains so fast, Vinyl!” Octavia’s voice said from the kitchen. Frederic pushed past his mother, hobbling into his apartment as quickly as his body would allow. His jaw went slack as he saw the empty bottles of his liquor collection standing neatly in a row. 

“What… in Celestia’s name… have you done?” Frederic asked incredulously.

“Now Fred, I get that this is a little tough to watch, but it’s for your own good,” Vinyl said. It was then that he saw Vinyl lift up a still-full bottle of scotch. A familiar bottle of scotch. A very expensive bottle of scotch. “Just this one left!”

“No!” Frederic exclaimed, lunging forward at Vinyl. “Stay away from that!” 

He grabbed the bottle in his mouth, tumbling to the ground. 

“Oh Celestia, he is an alcoholic.” 

“This is a bottle of Hayland Islands ‘Earthwalker’ Single-Malt Scotch, imported directly from Scoltland itself! This scotch sat in a Scoltish sherry cask for twenty-five years and cost me over four hundred bits for this bottle alone! You can dump the rest of my collection but this one stays!” he exclaimed, clutching the bottle to his aching chest as if it were his child.

“Four hundred plus bits for scotch you’re never gonna drink? You got ripped off bud,” Vinyl said, shaking her head slightly. 

“Just because I drink something other than cheap beer…” 

“Right, right, I get it, you can taste the money.” 

“This… bottle…” he said, huffing as he struggled to get back to his hooves. “Is not going anywhere.” 

“Frederic?” called Orianne from the hall. “Is something the matter?” 

“Everything’s fine!” said Frederic and Vinyl in unison. Orianne stepped into his apartment, and gasped at the sight of her recently discharged son trying to pick himself up off the floor. 

“What in Equestria are you doing on the floor in your condition!?” Orianne exclaimed, immediately charging over to him, bowling Vinyl over in the process.  

“Mother, I’m fine…” 

“Don’t ‘mother, I’m fine’ me, young stallion!” Orianne chided, assisting Frederic back on his hooves. “Alright, cheries, I think it’s time you took your leave. Rarity, you may stay if you wish.”

“Why does Rarity get special treatment?” Vinyl asked. “And why does she keep calling us ‘cherries’?”  

“Because she’s a darling young mare and I’m happy to have her around,” said Orianne, beaming at Rarity. 

“Oh, my...” Rarity said demurely, blushing. 

“Oooookay,” said Vinyl. “See ya around, I guess. C’mon Octy, let’s go before she calls us cherries again,” Octavia then made her way around the counter after washing her hooves of any spilled alcohol.

“It was a pleasure seeing you again, Madame Horseshoepin,” Octavia said politely. “I was actually going to ask you—”

“C’mon Octy, we’ve gotta go!” Vinyl said. “I know Fred’s got a hot mom and all, but we need to get the lead out if we’re gonna make it to the music store before it closes!” Vinyl then proceeded to whip Octavia lightly on the flank with her tail, causing the mare to jump in shock. Octavia whipped around, her teeth bared and her face contorted into a scowl punctuated by a fiery blush of embarrassment.

“You’re going to pay for that!” Octavia yelled as Vinyl charged off, almost laughing herself to death as Octavia gave chase. 

Orianne watched as they left. “Colorful couple,” she said simply. “I wonder what Octavia was going to ask me…”

“Looks like we’ll never know,” Frederic stated flatly. 

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Rarity suggested. “Is there anything else I can do to help while I’m here?” 

“Just mind to Frederic while I use the restroom,” Orianne said, exiting the living room.

“Frederic, I am terribly sorry if I may have made you uncomfortable. I was only trying to be helpful,” Rarity said. “Your mother is such a wonderful mare and far be it from me to try and cross a pony I’ve only just met! I just never knew you owned so much alcohol...” 

“It’s not more than anypony else…” said Frederic. “Not to mention a lot of it was just bottles I was collecting, they’re rather easy to replace…” It was then that Frederic felt his strength leave him, having over-exerted himself to save his prized bottle of whiskey.  

Rarity caught him. “Frederic!” 

“Could you put this back in the cabinet…?” he asked groggily. 

“Let’s get you settled first,” Rarity said, sidling up against him and lending him her strength. “Easy now, don’t push yourself,” she whispered. 

He settled into the chair, taking a deep breath. “Thank you,” he said, nodding. “I guess I just… lost my wind.” 

“That is no way to exert yourself when you’ve just left the hospital.” 

“You’re right,” Frederic admitted. He then lowered his voice. “To be truthful, I’d rather you be here than my mother, as much as I love her,” he said, causing Rarity to blush.

“Why thank you, Frederic. I appreciate the compliment,” Rarity said with a smile. Orianne then returned, seeing Frederic now seated in his chair, Rarity standing by.

“Frederic, you look rather winded, are you alright?” Orianne asked.

“I’m better, Mother. I just over-extended myself is all,” Frederic explained. “Rarity caught me before I fell.” 

“I think we should get you into bed,” said Orianne. 

“Oh…” said Frederic, flashing back to elementary school. 

“Is everything alright, Frederic? You look rather peaked,” Rarity commented. “Would you like me to get you some water?” 

“Mm?” asked Frederic. “Oh, sure. Of course.” Rarity then moved into the kitchen, carefully searching the cupboards for a small glass, pouring tap water from the faucet into the cup. She trotted back over to Frederic, gently passing the glass to him. 

He sipped gently, commenting on how mares getting him glasses of water seemed to coincide with something related to booze. That probably means there’s a problem. 

“Thank you again for your help, Rarity. I knew I could count on you,” Orianne smiled. 

“Oh, don’t mention it,” said Rarity. “It’s the least I could do.” She then looked at the clock, seeing that it was nearly dusk. “Oh dear, I must be going. Sweetie Belle will be expecting dinner soon and I need to give Opalescence her daily brushing.” She then turned to Orianne and Frederic. “Please, do not hesitate to ask me for help.” Rarity drew a pad and quill, writing down her address. “You can find me here.”

“Merci et bonsoir, cherie,” Orianne said with a smile.

“Well,” said Frederic, taking another drink of water and stepping out of his seat. “I think it’s time for me to retire.” 

“You have a splendid evening,” Rarity said. “Frederic, listen to your mother, she can only mean well for you,” she said with a wink.

Frederic elected not to respond, instead hiding his blush in his cup of water. Once Rarity had shut the door, Orianne spoke up.

“Ooh, I knew I liked her!” Orianne exclaimed happily. 





Rarity trotted down the sidewalk back towards the Boutique, and spied Twilight and Spike headed back towards the Library. Spike found himself carrying a rather large stack of freshly printed parchment as Twilight used her magic to carry a stack of books that she had decided to have restored, now ready for recategorization amongst the countless others she owned. 

“Why are we recategorizing everything again?” asked Spike, struggling under the weight. 

“I told you Spike, I like to experiment with different organizational systems,” said Twilight.

“Good evening, Twilight!” Rarity called out, approaching them. “Oh Spike, here, let me help you,” she offered, a field of light blue magic surrounding a good chunk of the parchment and raising it off the stack. 

“Gee, thanks Rarity,” Spike swooned, smiling widely.

“Well of course, my dear Spike. Far be it from me to not help a friend in need,” Rarity winked, following Twilight inside. 

“Uh huh…” Spike murmured dreamily, entering the Library last. Once he set the stack of parchment down, he shut the door. 

“So what brings you by? You’re usually at home at this hour,” Twilight pointed out, setting the books on the table in the common area. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, though! It’s always nice to have you over Rarity,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah, always,” Spike said, chuckling slightly as his emerald green eyes fixated on Rarity.

“Thank you darling, I was just on my way home from Frederic’s apartment when I saw the two of you outside,” Rarity said. Spike’s expression changed immediately to that of disdain, to which Rarity did not notice.

“How is he recovering? He got pretty banged up judging by what I heard from Applejack and Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said. 

“It’s a slow recovery, but he’s getting better day by day,” Rarity explained. “Considering the nature of his injuries, he’ll be in recovery for some time. It’s a good thing his mother is with him now.”

“So I guess he won’t be needing your help anymore, then!” Spike said, trying to contain his excitement.

“Oh, quite the contrary Spike,” Rarity said, causing Spike’s freshly cultivated excitement to burst like a balloon. “His mother said she’d be needing my help whenever I was available. His mother is an absolute sweetheart!” she gushed, smiling. “Tomorrow she’s going to be doing grocery shopping for him so I’ll be looking after him until she gets back.”

“Oh? That’s good to know. Frederic seems to be a pretty nice guy, so I’d imagine he came from a good home,” Twilight mused, arranging the books on her table. “I wonder if he’d be able to help me categorize my music collection!” she exclaimed. 

“Probably wouldn’t be interested,” muttered Spike through his teeth. 

“I daresay if there was ever a pony to ask, it’d be him,” Rarity said with a small giggle. “But… he still has to recover and take it slow. His mother would throw a fit if he walked out of the apartment a day before he was ready.” 

“Oh yeah, of course,” Twilight said. “I wouldn’t wanna exacerbate any of his injuries, and I don’t need an angry mom knocking down my front door,” she said. 

“Ugh… I’m going to bed,” Spike snorted, twin puffs of smoke escaping his nostrils as he stomped up the stairs and into the bedroom. 

Rarity watched him leave, confused by the drastic change in his mood. “Oh dear. Did he miss his naptime?”

Twilight merely stared at Rarity, wondering how she was the only pony oblivious to Spike’s crush on her. She then looked up at the bedroom door. I’ll have a talk with him later… she thought. With Spike now in bed, Twilight then smirked.

“So, tell me more about Frederic. You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” Twilight said.

“Why Twilight, I never thought you would be interested in gossip!” Rarity gasped. 

“I’m not, I just figured I’d try out ‘girl talk’,” Twilight shrugged, causing Rarity to shake her head, laughing to herself.

“Twilight, there are times where I find you simply adorable,” Rarity said.

“We’re not talking about me here, now spill it!” Twilight insisted. 

Rarity then sat down across from Twilight, gathering her thoughts. “Speaking honestly, he’s a rare find. He’s thoughtful, intellectual, very cultured… he’s gentle, kind-hearted, he’s the textbook definition of a gentlecolt,” she described, smiling softly as she spoke.

“Wow Rarity, I haven’t heard you think, much less speak that highly about a stallion since Blueblood,” Twilight said. 

“What makes you say that?” Rarity asked.

“You haven’t stopped smiling since I asked you about him,” Twilight pointed out.

“Oh… well...” Rarity said, blushing heavily, causing Twilight to giggle.

“Is there anything else you wanna add? I’m taking notes.” 

Rarity then cleared her throat. “Well, he drinks a bit… His parents seem Prench.” 

“How interesting, I wonder what region of Prance they’re from... does he speak Prench?”

“I know he understands it, but I have yet to hear him speak it,” Rarity said. “My Prench is very rusty. I was somewhat able to follow along with what his parents were saying when they spoke it but, well, I don’t think I could hold my own in conversation.” 

“I could help you brush up on it,” Twilight offered.

“Oh darling, you know I don’t have the time to sit through classes again,” Rarity said. “I appreciate the offer just the same though.” 

“Well, it sounds like you’ve run into quite the colorful fellow. He’s friends with Octavia, right?” 

“As it turns out, he’s actually getting over her. She was the object of his affections up until he found out she was dating Vinyl,” Rarity explained.

“Ouch…” Twilight murmured. “Poor guy.” 

“Frederic has suffered a good deal over her,” Rarity sighed. “Let me tell you about what happened at the opera the other day now that I have the chance,” she said. “Settle in, this will be a bit of a long story.” Rarity proceeded to explain the events of the entire day, including lunch, the conversation she had with Octavia, and the disaster at the opera. Twilight’s mouth hung open as she recounted the opera itself, unable to believe how bad it truly got. 

“Well…” said Twilight. “That’s, uh… wow.” 

“The poor dear came to my home the next day and dissolved to tears trying to explain himself,” Rarity said. “I’m confiding this in you Twilight. Promise me you won’t repeat this.” 

“Believe me, I won’t. I have no reason to.” 

“Thank you,” said Rarity.

“Well, it obviously goes to show that he trusts you, considering he told you how he felt about Octavia,” Twilight reasoned. “Maybe you two should go out on a date,” she suggested.

“Oh Twilight, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” Rarity blushed. “I’m still reeling from Blueblood, and—” It was then that Twilight scowled, causing Rarity to stop dead in her tracks.

“Look Rarity, I know Blueblood was a real jerk and hurt you pretty badly, but if you continue to let him haunt you, you won’t be able to move on. Frederic seems like a really good guy, and if you’re not careful, you may lose him. How would you feel if another mare came in and stole Frederic before you had the chance? I want you to really think about how it would make you feel,” Twilight stated firmly. 

“I’m surprised you feel so strongly about this,” Rarity said. “Not to mention I’m surprised you’re so well versed on the subject of romance.” Twilight’s face shone a bright pink at Rarity’s remark.

“I… read a lot of romance on my free time…” Twilight murmured softly. She then shook her head, focusing again on Rarity. “The reason I feel so strongly about this is because I care about you Rarity. I want to see you happy, and if Frederic makes you happy, then I support it one hundred percent,” Twilight said, trotting over to Rarity and throwing a foreleg over her shoulders, pulling her close. “You’re one of my best friends, and I just want what’s best for you.” 

“Thank you Twilight, that means the world to me,” Rarity said, returning the embrace. “I still need time to mull it over, though… maybe see what the rest of the girls think.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Twilight said. “I’m sure it’d be interesting to hear what the other girls have to say. Maybe we can catalogue them and have them vote! This is the perfect opportunity to have a vote-based election! We could have ballots, we can take surveys—” Twilight stopped short when Rarity rose her hoof.

“Yes, Rarity?” 

“Are there other kinds of elections…?” asked Rarity. 

“Yes. There are many different types. There are democratic, ballot-based elections, two-round runoff elections—” 

“How very informative! Thank you for answering my question, Twilight.”

“...Was the sarcasm really necessary?”

“Have we met before?” Rarity said with a small giggle. Twilight merely shook her head. “Oh, don’t be like that darling, I’m sure some day you’ll find a wonderful pony who shares your love for… index cards.”

“Ooookay Rarity, I think I get the point,” Twilight said flatly, unable to hide a smile.

“Joking aside, it was lovely sitting and chatting with you Twilight. I daresay we don’t do this often enough,” Rarity said.

“It would be nice.... Maybe we can make it a weekly thing! I can make tea and we can just sit and chat,” Twilight suggested.

“While my schedule does change on the fly, the offer for tea is definitely tempting,” Rarity assured. “If you’ll excuse me I have to get home, Sweetie is waiting for me. Give my love to Spike, would you? I hope he feels better in the morning. Poor dear, being all cranky.”

“Sure Rarity,” Twilight said, raising an eyebrow as she walked her out. She shut the door behind her and sighed. “For somepony who can be so sharp most of the time, she can be really dull sometimes…”



 

“Y’know my flank still stings from where you kicked me last night…” Vinyl said, rubbing the sensitive area with a hoof.

“You earned it and you know it,” Octavia growled. “Whipping my flank in front of Frederic’s mother, what were you thinking!?” 

“You know I was in a rush Octy, and you weren’t listening,” Vinyl huffed. 

“The music store was going to be open whether we spent another five minutes or came here the following day!” Octavia protested. 

“I’m not talking about the music store!” said Vinyl. “She’s intimidating.” 

“His mother?” asked Octavia. “I should be taking notes, truthfully.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because it keeps you in control.”

“You wanna control me now? Like some kind of robot slave?” 

“I think of it more like ‘regulating,’” said Octavia. 

“But I am regular, Octy! I eat my fiber every day,” Vinyl said, looking at Octavia with a strange expression. 

“Vinyl…” Octavia warned, her voice approaching a certain tone that Vinyl knew was not to be toyed with.

“Oh, whoops, I forgot,” Vinyl said. She then cleared her throat, and began to move mechanically. “Beep. Boop. Awaiting your command. Input required from Owner: Octavia.”

Octavia shot Vinyl a look so fierce it could have sent a rampaging dragon back in the direction it came from.

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll behave,” Vinyl said.

“As you should.”

“...doesn’t mean I have to like it…”

“What was that?” 

“Nothing! Nothing!” said Vinyl, before adding under her breath, “Owner…” 

The two continued to walk, Vinyl deciding to calm Octavia down by picking her brain about how her music worked.

“So… there’s no… sampling or remixing,” Vinyl said.

“Yes, Vinyl, for the third time,” sighed Octavia.

“No mixing at all.”

“None.”

“But that’s not true!” said Vinyl. “I’ve heard you do pop covers before, and I know they weren’t classical to begin with.”

“It’s not called sampling, Vinyl, it’s called quotation,” said Octavia. “Sampling is something you do with… your recording stuff.”

“So you decide you like a tune and you write a thing around it?”

“No, somepony else writes a ‘thing’ around it,” said Octavia. “Usually after getting the rights.”

“So if it isn’t you or any of your other buddies, then who writes it?”

“Usually we have Royal Riff arrange it.”

“So he arranges for it to happen with who?”

“No, he arranges it. As in he’s our arranger.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Please open a music dictionary sometime, Vinyl,” said Octavia. 

“But you just said—”

The two became so engrossed in their conversation that they nearly bumped into Twilight, spooking her so much that she almost threw Spike off her back.

“Oh dear, I’m very sorry Twilight, I was so caught up in talking to Vinyl that I hadn’t watched where I was going,” Octavia said.

“Sorry Twi, you alright?” Vinyl asked.

“Oh, I’m fine girls, no harm done,” Twilight said, taking a moment to equalize her breathing. “How are you two doing?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Octy was just explaining to me how she samples music.” 

“‘Sampling’ is not a term we use in my field,” said Octavia. 

“Right, sorry Octy,” said Vinyl.

“You guys’ relationship makes for quite the interesting dynamic, you know that?” Twilight observed. 

“We’re going to write a sitcom based on it,” said Vinyl absently. “So what’s got you out and about Twi?”

“Oh, well I promised Mister Grumpyscales back there to ice cream after what happened last night,” Twilight said, motioning to Spike, who seemed none too happy about life.

“What happened last night?” Octavia asked.

“Rarity came by,” Twilight said.

“Hrmpf,” grunted Spike, folding his arms and sulking. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Twilight then leaned in, away from Spike.

“He’s got a crush on Rarity, and last night she talked about Frederic nonstop,” Twilight said, making sure to keep her voice low. 

“...Can somepony explain to me why we keep getting caught up in love triangles?” Vinyl asked. 

“You don’t get to play that card, Vinyl. You were the one that insisted on trying to find somepony for Frederic,” Octavia said.

“Oh… right… hey wait a second, you’re no different! I only did this ‘cause you were feeling bad for him, and you agreed to it!” 

“Oh dear… I guess I did,” Octavia chuckled sheepishly. 

“Don’t worry girls, Spike’s a tough little guy. He’ll be alright once we get some ruby cherry ice cream in his belly,” Twilight said, raising her voice just enough for Spike to hear.

“Ruby cherry?! That’s my favorite!” Spike chimed in. 

“Told ya,” said Twilight, winking at the two. “Well, I’ll be seeing you later. Right now I think I owe a certain dragon some ice cream.”

“Okay, catch you later,” Vinyl said, waving as Twilight cantered off, Spike sitting on her back. Once Twilight was sufficiently out of earshot, she turned to Octavia. “Do you think she’s into mares?”

“What!? Vinyl, I’m right here!” Octavia asked, offended.

“You’re getting the wrong idea, Octy. I ask ‘cause she’s kinda cute and maybe…”

“I know exactly where you’re going with this and the answer is no!” Octavia said, her face alight with a bright blush. 

“I was also thinking of Orianne. I mean, for a mare her age she’s got a rockin’ bod, buuut she’s probably straight and she scares me senseless, so…” 

“You considered Frederic’s mother!?” Octavia said, unable to wrap her head around Vinyl’s words. She pictured it in her mind, and was horrified by what she saw. She opened her mouth to speak, but could not find words. “No. No. No. Just, no. There are things you do not do and lines you do not cross. This would be doing all of those things and crossing all of those lines.”

“Fine, be that way,” said Vinyl.

“I will be that way, in fact I enjoy being that way!” Octavia huffed.

“Geez, Octy, I get that you’re not into older mares, but you have to admit Twilight’s cute,” Vinyl commented. “I never pegged you for the jealous type,” she purred, to which Octavia turned a deeper shade of red.

“...I’m not much for sharing…” Octavia muttered, averting her eyes. “Monogamy is a thing, you know. And you’re going to counter with the word ‘monotony.’” 

“Actually, I know that one. I use it to keep a beat.”

“Vinyl… that’s a metronome. They don’t sound remotely similar.”

“Pssh, I knew that. I was just testing you.” 

“Right, of course,” Octavia said with a small smile. Even though Vinyl frequently found new ways to boggle her mind, there were times where she could not resist Vinyl’s charm. 

“...So let’s say I didn’t know what ‘monogamy’ means,” Vinyl said. 

“It means only two ponies in a relationship,” Octavia explained simply.

“Oh, yeah, I definitely knew that,” Vinyl said cooly.

“Sure you did,” Octavia said. “You know, I have to say, it is rather cute when you mix up words, even if sometimes I know you do it on purpose. I would’ve gone with ‘mahogany,’ though.” 

“Dang, you’re right, that is a good one…” Vinyl said, to which Octavia shot her a look. “Oops.”

“So you do do it to irritate me!” Octavia said, aghast. “And to think I thought you better than that,” she said, feigning a tone of disappointment.

“Hey, hey, don’t be like that, I was just messing with you! You know I don’t mean anything by—” Vinyl stopped short when Octavia pecked her on the cheek.

“I know you don’t,” Octavia winked, causing Vinyl to turn a bright shade of pink.

“...it…” Vinyl finished. 

A short time later, as Vinyl and Octavia were talking, Vinyl suddenly froze mid-sentence.

“Vinyl, are you alright?” Octavia asked, concerned.

“...I just got what you meant,” Vinyl said. “About things you don’t do, and lines you don’t cross.”

“Oh? So you learned your lesson then?” Octavia said.

“Yup, and it seems like I’ll be learning that lesson for the rest of my life. I can’t think of her without imagining—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Octavia said, covering Vinyl’s mouth. “We ended that conversation already and I’d prefer it stayed that way.” Vinyl turned a sickly shade of green, shaking whatever horrible image her mind had forced her to see.

“We don’t talk about that ever again,” Vinyl said. “Never. Again.”





Fluttershy hummed to herself as she went about feeding the animals around her cottage. Acorns for the squirrels, millet seed for the bluejays, and some choice carrots for Angel. She heard the sounds of hoofsteps coming from behind her, turning quickly to see who was coming to visit.

“Good morning Fluttershy, I hope I didn’t startle you. How is your morning going?” Rarity asked with a smile.

“Oh, it’s going well so far Rarity,” said Fluttershy. “And you?”

“Splendid, darling. I was wondering if you had a moment to spare. I’d like to chat with you about something,” Rarity said. 

“Okay,” said Fluttershy, getting up from her knees as Angel put on an annoyed look. The rabbit tugged on Fluttershy’s mane, stamping his foot on the ground and folding his arms. “Oh, I’m sorry Angel, I forgot your reward for being so patient and helping me with the other animals,” she said. She then turned to Rarity. “Just give me a moment to get him his snack and put on some tea for us.”

“Of course darling, I’m in no immediate rush,” Rarity said, following Fluttershy and Angel into her cottage. Rarity took a deep breath and exhaled. “I do so love to come visit you, Fluttershy. Your cottage always feels like home, even with all the animals you tend to.”

“Thank you Rarity, I love visiting the Boutique as well. You always make me feel welcome,” Fluttershy responded from the kitchen.

“You’re one of my closest friends Fluttershy, of course I want you to feel welcome,” Rarity said, taking a seat on Fluttershy’s couch as she waited for her to finish taking care of Angel. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” asked Fluttershy, emerging from the kitchen with a box of carrot crisps. Angel’s face lit up and he did a little happy dance as Fluttershy presented him with the box. 

“Well… how to word this…” Rarity said, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I wanted your opinion on something, or rather… somepony,” she elaborated. 

“Ohh?” 

“Well, it’s Frederic,” said Rarity. 

“Ohh…” 

“You’re my best friend Fluttershy, and I really value your opinion… what do you think of him?” Rarity asked, folding her hooves in her lap. 

“Well, I haven’t had the opportunity to be around him one-on-one,” said Fluttershy. “He seems nice.” 

“I suppose that’s true… darn,” Rarity said with a small sigh. “He’s a wonderful fellow, but… I’m not sure about how I feel. I spoke about it with Twilight, for no other reason that she got to me before I got to you. She gave me good advice for sure, but I wanted to hear what you had to say. Frankly, I would like to hear what all of you have to say about him before I make the choice to chase after another stallion…” 

“Well, he’s handsome and he can play the piano very well… He seems well-spoken,” said Fluttershy, rattling some thoughts off. “How… old is he? I can’t really tell with that mane.” 

“I’m not sure… he’s not that old,” said Rarity. “I know he went to school with Octavia. Twenty-five? Twenty-six?” 

“Oh, then that’s not so bad,” Fluttershy said. “Does he make you feel happy?” 

“He…” said Rarity. “Well, one of our outings ended a little… poorly.”

“I’m sorry Rarity,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” 

“But most of our other time together has been pleasant,” said Rarity. “He makes for good conversation.” 

“Well, that’s good at least,” Fluttershy reasoned. “Did he apologize for his mistake?”

“Yes… and I felt terrible about it because I was rather rude to him at first. I had no idea at the time of course, but once he told me...” Rarity paused, giving a small sigh. “I won’t go into details, but believe me when I tell you I understand where he was coming from, and… it sort of hurt to see him like that.” 

Fluttershy nodded slowly. 

“I’m… sorry if this doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It’s alright, if anything, I’m proud of you,” Fluttershy said.

“Oh? What for?” Rarity asked.

“Well… I’m proud of you because you’re taking things slowly. You’re giving it a lot of thought and trying to make the right decisions before moving forward. It’s what I would do,” Fluttershy explained. “When you had feelings for the Prince you just sort of jumped into it expecting him to be your white knight, and it really worried all of us. As your friend and somepony who deeply cares about you, it broke my heart to see the look in your eyes that night, because I knew he had broken your heart. He was nothing like what you or any of us expected, and he really missed out on something special with you.”

Rarity felt her heart hitch in her chest, touched by Fluttershy’s words. She quietly reached across the couch, pulling Fluttershy into a tight embrace, which Fluttershy openly returned.

“Thank you Fluttershy, you have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that,” Rarity said, pulling away from Fluttershy after a moment.

“If you want my honest opinion, I can give it to you. Would that be okay?” Fluttershy offered.

“Yes, of course,” Rarity said. 

“Frederic is different. I get a good feeling from him. I guess the better term would be he’s ‘transparent.’ Is that right?”

“I get what you mean Fluttershy. What you see is what you get with him, is that what you meant to say?” Rarity asked.

“Yes, it is. From what I’ve seen so far, I think he’s good for you. I would like to meet him and get to know him a bit better, though…” Fluttershy admitted.

“That does sound like an idea… perhaps we can arrange a get together for all of us!” Rarity said, her eyes lighting up. “Oh Fluttershy, I knew talking to you about it was a good idea, thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome,” Fluttershy said demurely. “I’m always here to help.” 

“Perhaps we can set up a movie night! The Boutique is more than large enough to accommodate everypony, and we can even have snacks! Oh, this is just a splendid idea!” Rarity said with excitement. “What kind of movie would you like to see?”

“Nothing scary, if that’s okay…” Fluttershy said meekly.

“Mm, I’m not much for the horror genre myself…” Rarity said. “Maybe we can go to the film shop and see if there’s anything new.”

“Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Maybe a romance?” Fluttershy suggested.

“I knew we were best friends for a reason!” Rarity giggled. “Great minds think alike, after all.” 



 

Fluttershy and Rarity left the cottage, making their way into town towards the film shop. They pushed the door open, the air in the room feeling very dry against their coats. There was minimal air-flow, giving the shop a very still feeling. 

“Welcome to Reel Deals,” said the shopkeeper lazily as he flipped through a magazine. 

“Good afternoon,” Rarity said as she approached the nearby box full of film reel tins.. “Are there any new arrivals?” 

“New releases right over there,” he said, pointing to a nearby stand without even looking at it. Rarity raised an eyebrow, shaking her head slightly and moving towards where the stallion pointed, deciding to pay his lack of attention no mind.

“Okay, let’s see what’s new…” Rarity said, shifting the tins around to read the labels on their fronts. Fluttershy assisted her, shifting through another box nearby.

“‘Lost in the Breeze’...” Rarity murmured out loud. “I’ve seen this one before. A little old-fashioned, but still a classic.” She continued looking through the bin, finding a few others she had already seen. “‘Castilloblanco’, this one is definitely an option. I’ve heard wonderful things about it.” 

“Oh my, this one seems interesting,” Fluttershy said, lifting one out of the box. Rarity cantered over, examining it.

“‘An East Side Story’… That one’s good, but a little too dramatic and violent for me,” she said. ‘Brunch at Tip Me’s’… I’ve heard good things about it. Let’s keep that one in mind.” 

Rarity flipped through a few more, suddenly gasping in excitement. “Oh, I may buy this one just on principle!” She lifted the tin. “‘City Times!’ I absolutely adore the comedy stylings of Hardly Laughing!” 

“Oh, I’ve seen Hardly Laughing before, he’s very funny,” Fluttershy said. 

“Excellent! We’ll take this one then,” Rarity said, using her magic to move the tin over to the front counter. The two mares made their way to the front, addressing the stallion. 

“Sir, we’ll be taking this one.” 

“That’ll be four bits,” said the stallion in the same bored, lazy tone. 

Rarity reached into her saddlebag and pulled a small satchel of bits, removing four for the stallion. “Here you are, have a nice day.” 

“Thank you for stopping at Reel Deals.” 

“Right… well, take care…” Rarity said, unsure if the stallion even heard her. She took the film reel, slipped it into a plastic bag and carried it out the front door. “This is splendid, Fluttershy! Let the girls know that we’ll be doing the movie night at the Boutique tomorrow. I’ll be sure to get snacks and drinks for us.”

“That sounds lovely Rarity, thank you for arranging it,” Fluttershy said.

“Think nothing of it, darling! If anything I should be thanking you for the idea,” Rarity said.

“Oh, it really wasn’t my idea, you just came up with it while talking to me…” Fluttershy said shyly. 

“That’s plenty of contribution!” Rarity said. 

“If you say so…” Fluttershy acquiesced. 

“Wonderful. I’m going to head back to the Boutique to tidy up for a while before going back to Frederic’s. You’re welcome to come along. I’m sure he’d appreciate the company.”

“I would love to, but I have other things I have to take care of first. Maybe we can meet back up later?”  Fluttershy suggested.

“Of course, go take care of your things and then just meet me back at the Boutique later,” Rarity said.

“Okay, see you then,” Fluttershy said, waving a hoof at Rarity as she spread her wings and took off back towards the cottage.

“Ta-ta!” Rarity said, waving in return, making her way back to the Boutique. She hummed contentedly to herself. She was feeling pretty fabulous, if she said so herself. Maybe I’ll get lucky and sit next to Frederic during the movie… she thought, giggling to herself. I wonder what types of movies he prefers... 
> Chapter Ten
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The early morning sun peeked out over the horizon, a thin ray of light filtering into Rarity’s bedroom. Her eyes gently fluttered open, the mare slowly coming to and stretching.

“Mmm, morning already…?” Rarity murmured, wishing she could sleep just a little longer. Sadly, this was not the case. She has a list of things she had to do for the movie night she had decided to host. She slowly slid out of bed, tightening the cords for her robe and sliding into her slippers. She shuffled out of her bedroom, stifling a yawn. She found Sweetie Belle seated at the kitchen table, busily working on a list of some sort.

“Morning—” Sweetie Belle started, but stopped when Rarity raised a hoof. “Oh, right. No talking until after coffee.”

“Mmhmm,” Rarity affirmed, setting the pot in the machine and hitting the button on the front. A minute later, the life-giving essence Rarity had quested for since she left her bedroom poured into the pot. She poured herself a mug, sipping it and giving a contented sigh.

How ponies survived before the discovery of coffee, nopony really knew.

Once Rarity had sufficiently woken up, she then turned to Sweetie Belle. “I’m sorry Sweetie, you know how I am in the mornings…”

“I know, it’s alright. I just wanted to let you know I’m gonna be staying the night at Apple Bloom’s house tonight.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Sweetie. I’m happy to see you’re being a little more responsible,” Rarity praised. 

“Eheheh…” Sweetie Belle chuckled nervously. “Right, yeah… No, uh, no hospital trips this time.”

“Very good,” Rarity said. She trotted by her little sister, gently rustling her mane in a loving manner. 

“Rarity! It took me ten minutes to get my mane under control,” Sweetie protested, to which Rarity gave a small laugh.

“You really are my sister,” Rarity said. “Have a good day, and stay safe, okay?”

“I will, I will,” Sweetie said. She finished her scribbling, wrapped up the parchment and tucked it into her saddlebags.

“I love you, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity called out from upstairs. Sweetie Belle blushed, sighing.

“...I… love you too, Rarity…” Sweetie said as she left, closing the door behind her.

With Sweetie Belle gone and a generous amount of caffeine in her veins, Rarity was ready to face the world; more importantly, her Boutique. She had been working up a storm up until Frederic had gotten injured, and the Boutique was in complete disarray.

“Alright… let’s get this show started!” Rarity said, clapping her hooves together and beginning to reorganize the Boutique. She sorted her fabrics, her needles and her mannequins, putting the equipment away and moving the mannequins in a spot out of sight. She shifted her sewing machine off of her work table, replacing it with a table cloth.

“This will be for the sodas and the snacks…” Rarity said to herself, tucking the sewing machine away under the table. She then looked up, using her magic to pull down the screen for the projector. “This is going to be so much fun!” she giggled with excitement. Rarity engrossed herself in her work, making sure everything would be perfect for that evening.





Frederic groaned. The fall he had taken yesterday left him a little more sore than he had expected. He laid flat on his back, not quite ready to open his eyes.

“Frederic?” called Orianne’s voice. “I heard a groan. Are you well?”

“I’m alright, Mother… just a little sore,” Frederic replied.

“Do you need assistance?” Orianne said, entering his room. Frederic did a quick evaluation, and found himself a little lacking in energy.

“I suppose,” Frederic acquiesced. His mother was taking the time to stay with him and take care of him, so he figured that he may as well let her help.

“Don’t you worry Frederic, mother’s right here,” Orianne said. She positioned herself at Frederic’s bedside, Frederic rolling over and sitting up. 

“Yes, mother,” said Frederic. He slowly took to his hooves, Orianne offering herself as something to balance against until he was properly situated. “Thank you.” 

“Come now Frederic,” Orianne said, shaking her head slightly. “I am your mother. What I do, I do out of love,” she said resolutely. Frederic sighed internally. It had been some time since he had seen either of his parents, and deep down he was happy to see her. She just had her way of doing things, and this didn’t always agree with him. 

“I know… and I appreciate it,” he said genuinely. “Just… that fall the other day took a little out of me.” 

“I understand dear, whatever you need just ask,” Orianne said. “Come, I’ll make us some breakfast while we wait for Rarity to arrive. How does a pancake with blueberries sound? I know you used to love when I made that for you as a colt.” She smiled. 

“That…” Frederic started, about to say ‘I’m not a colt!’ But then he stopped himself. “That… sounds lovely. Thank you.” 

Orianne smiled as she helped him out into the dining area, sitting him down at the table. She moved over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a box of pancake mix from the cupboard as well as retrieving the blueberries from the refrigerator. 

“So tell me Frederic,” Orianne spoke up. “I want you to be honest; where do you stand with Rarity?” 

“What do you mean?” asked Frederic. “She’s a good friend.” 

“That much I know, what I meant was where you stand with her. How do you feel about her?” Orianne asked more pointedly. 

“How I feel?” 

“Yes, how you feel. How do you view Rarity? Do you see her as a friend? Maybe something more? Out with it!” Orianne pressed as she mixed the pancake batter in a bowl. 

Frederic shook his head. “Mother, can we approach this topic again after I’ve eaten and had my coffee?”

“Fine, but I won’t forget!” Orianne said, focusing on preparing food for Frederic. 

“You never do,” he said, smiling wryly. 

“That topic aside, I’ll be doing your groceries. And then once I return, I plan on cleaning up around here. Your apartment is a little dusty. That’s bad for your sinuses, you know,” Orianne said. 

“Fair enough…” 

“Your records are also disorganized, and there is a stain in the carpet. I certainly hope it was there before you moved in. Either way, I know an old trick that your grandmother taught me as a filly that I can use to get it out. You will also need to show me where you keep your laundry. I’m not having you lift your bedsheets in your condition.” Orianne then lit the stove, pouring the mix into a pan. She chopped up the blueberries, stirring the mix and adding the blueberry bits into it as it cooked. “All things considered, you picked a lovely little town to live in, Frederic. The ponies here seem to be much kinder than the busybody ones back in Canterlot.” 

“They generally aren’t as… snooty, no,” Frederic conceded. “More of a down-to-earth attitude.”

“It’s very obvious,” Orianne said. A few minutes later, she took the spatula and made divots into the now-hardening mix. Once she felt it was done, she slid it onto a plate and drizzled a light trail of syrup over it. The coffee machine buzzed, signalling that the pot was ready. She grabbed a mug and poured some of it out. “Cream and sugar, dear?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Orianne added both cream and sugar, stirring the coffee in the cup. She then served it to him, smiling. “Enjoy darling,” Orianne said, taking a seat across from him, drinking her own coffee. Frederic took a bite, feeling a rush of nostalgia wash over him as the taste of his mother’s cooking came to him. Orianne quietly drank her coffee, occasionally glancing at Frederic as he ate. A knock at the door broke the silence, Orianne taking to her hooves. She peered through the eyehole, seeing it was Rarity.

“Rarity, good morning cherie,” Orianne said as she opened the door, greeting Rarity.

“Good morning Orianne,” Rarity said with a kind smile. “I’m here right on schedule.”

“Excellent. Frederic’s eating his breakfast now. If you could, collect his bedsheets and just gather them up in the living room. When I return I have work to do,” Orianne said. Rarity turned to look at Frederic, who in turn looked up at her, syrup glistening from the corners of his mouth. Rarity giggled slightly, trotting over to him and grabbing a napkin.

“You have syrup all over your face,” Rarity said, using the napkin to clean it off. Frederic’s face turned a bright shade of pink as Orianne’s face curled into a devilish smile, bringing a hoof to her mouth. 

“Take care you two…” Orianne said, shutting the door behind her.  

“So… what brings you here?” 

Rarity laughed. “Oh, nothing in particular,” she said. “Just wanted to see how you were doing. And invite you over for a movie, I suppose.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Frederic. “A movie?” 

“Yes, a movie! I’ve decided to host a movie night for all of my friends, and you’re invited,” Rarity said. “We’ll be watching City Times, featuring Hardly Laughing as the star.” 

“Ah,” said Frederic. “I’m… not familiar with that one.” 

“Oh, it’s a classic! One of his best works. One of the entries in the Comedy Canon, as Pinkie Pie says.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. It would give my mother some time to do some busy work around here… and I could use some fresh air,” Frederic said. “That sounds good. What time am I to be there?” 

“I would say around seven o’clock this evening. We  have snacks, sodas, and anything else anypony wants to bring,” Rarity said. “Do you watch movies often?” she asked as she began to take care of the things that Orianne had asked her to before she left. 

“Well… no,” said Frederic. “I can’t say that I do.” 

“Really?” 

Frederic shrugged. “I guess it’s just… not something I’ve found myself drawn to. Or dragged to. Still!” he said, trying not to sound like he wasn’t interested. “I’m open to new experiences.” 

“Well then, I suppose it’s time that changes,” Rarity said with a smile. “I happen to love movies. I tend to watch a lot of them to keep an eye on current and vintage fashion trends, so one could call me a bit of a connoisseur.” 

Frederic smiled. “Well, then I’m sure the one you’ve picked out is a good one.” Frederic quietly watched Rarity work, sipping his coffee as she went about her duties. 

Has she always looked this… lovely? he wondered to himself, brushing the thought from his mind a moment later. No matter. Today will be a simple day. A movie and an outing with friends. He then noticed that she was humming to herself, recognizing the sound.

“I know that song…” Frederic said, his mouth curling into a small smirk.

“Oh?” Rarity said, looking over at him. “I was just humming to myself unconsciously. I hadn’t even noticed.”

“You were, and you were humming a song I’m actually quite familiar with,” Frederic said, slowly getting up and making his way over to the piano. He lifted the lid, playing the notes that Rarity had hummed and beyond.

“Ah, yes! I love this song. I simply love the movie it came from, as well!” Rarity said. “Have you seen it?”

“No, but I know of it. I accompanied an orchestra that was part of a stage performance of the movie it came from,” Frederic said as he played the remainder of the melody, Rarity following along with a smile.

“That was lovely, Frederic. I daresay you look more comfortable behind your piano then laying in bed,” Rarity giggled. 

“Sometimes I spend more time in a week at the piano than in bed,” said Frederic.

“I know exactly what you mean! Sometimes I find myself asleep at my sewing machine so often I wonder why I even own a bed. I’ve pulled more of my own mane out of it than I’d like to admit,” Rarity said bashfully. 

“Well, for a mare who does such splendid seamwork you take care of your hooves very well. They look almost pristine,” Frederic said. 

“That’s the hooficures, darling.” 

“Hooficures only go so far,” Frederic grinned. He then looked at his own hooves. “When I was still learning to play piano as a colt, carpal tunnel was my worst enemy. My wrists would be bent for hours on end, to the point that it would ache for me to extend them,” he said as he rolled his wrists, the joint cracking slightly. “Cost me a competition, once…” 

“Oh dear,” Rarity said. “I can only imagine that must’ve been difficult for you, darling. I daresay I’ve been on the receiving end of that myself. One missed stitch or one thread out of place and the entire piece comes undone.” 

“Mhm,” Frederic affirmed. He felt a small stitch in his wrist when he rolled it, grimacing slightly. “Ouch…”

“Are you alright? Here, let me take a look at it,” Rarity asked, coming over to him and taking his foreleg into her hooves, massaging the cramped muscle until it relaxed.

“Thanks…” Frederic said softly as she worked his wrist, feeling the tension release. He found himself slightly short on breath, a little surprised at how close she was to him. “I usually take care to exercise it in a healthy way, so I don’t sabotage my own career.”

“Think nothing of it. My mother used to do this for me when I would get cramps from doing threadwork,” Rarity winked. “Try it now.” Frederic rolled his wrist, finding that it no longer cramped up.

“Good as new,” Frederic said. “I must have slept on it wrong.”

“Do you want me to get you some ice for it?”

“No no, I don’t think so,” Frederic said. “I feel bad enough that you’re helping my mother and I out with my chores.”

“Oh come now, your mother is a wonderful mare. I’m only doing what’s necessary of me as a friend,” Rarity said graciously. 

“Well…” 

“Darling, please,” said Rarity. “Don’t fret about it. It won’t help you get better, after all.” 

Frederic then acquiesced. “Alright,” he said, raising his hooves in mock defeat. “Thank you for all your help.”

“You are most welcome,” Rarity said with a bright smile. “Now… if you don’t mind me asking, how have you been… feeling?” she asked. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

“I’m well,” said Frederic, nodding slowly. 

“That’s good! I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure the distance has allowed you to heal some,” Rarity said. “So you’re aware, I extended the invite to Octavia and Vinyl as well, but they already had plans, so they won’t be attending.” 

“Ah.” 

“I at least wanted to extend the offer,” Rarity said, taking a mental note of Frederic’s reaction. I hope that didn’t make him feel uncomfortable… she thought, concerned she had inadvertently caused him discomfort. 

“Right, right,” said Frederic, nodding. 

“It’ll be myself, you, Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie,” Rarity said. She gave a small giggle when Frederic instinctively recoiled and crossed his rear legs at the sound of Pinkie’s name. “No need to worry, she won’t cause you any more bodily harm.” 

“I understand,” said Frederic. “But please don’t be offended if I wear a cup.”  

Rarity let out a small laugh. “Sometimes I feel we should all wear them around Pinkie, even though some of us may not have the… erm, equipment for it,” she said. “Sometimes your wit is just too funny!” she smiled. 

Frederic smiled back. “I try. They’re not always funny, but I try.” 

How charming… she thought. “Well, I’m going to get your bedsheets as your mother said. Let me know if you need anything,” Rarity said as she moved into his bedroom. She opened the door, finding the room rather neat, all things considered. She leaned over his bed, pulling the fabric off the mattress and levitating it into the living room. The scent of Frederic’s cologne wafted off the sheets, filling her senses.

“My word, this cologne is divine! What brand is it?” Rarity asked. 

“It’s ‘Prestige’ from Fancy Pants’ fragrance line. I’ve been using it for years,” Frederic commented. “You like it?”

“Very much so. It suits you,” Rarity said. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Frederic said, feeling a little more content at her remark. “So, what time is the movie?” 

“Seven on the dot!” said Rarity. 

“Right,” said Frederic, “I’ll make sure I’m there.”

“Excellent,” Rarity said with a smile. “I’m very much looking forward to it.” It was then that the door opened, Orianne entering with several grocery bags hovering behind her.

“Hello, dearies!” Orianne said cheerily, setting the groceries down on the kitchen counter. “I trust you two behaved while I was gone?” she said cheekily, a mischievous smile on her face. Frederic gave a sigh of embarrassment, covering his face with a hoof.

“I don’t quite understand…” Rarity said, clearing her throat at the rather obvious meaning behind her words.

“Oh, no need to look into it,” Orianne winked as she started putting away the groceries. “Thank you for retrieving his bedding. If you would, why not take Frederic out for a walk? It would give me time to clean up and I am certain he could use some fresh air, so long as he is careful,” she insisted. 

“Well, if he’s well enough to walk, I think that sounds lovely!” said Rarity. 

“Yes! Yes,” said Frederic. “I think that does sound rather nice,” he said as he raised himself to his hooves, slowly making his way to the door. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Rarity said, following him. “We will be back later in the evening, the two of us will be watching a movie at the Boutique tonight!”

“Ooh, enjoy yourselves!” Orianne said with a cheeky grin as she shut the door behind them, to which Frederic rolled his eyes. 

“Well,” said Frederic, “I just want to apologize for that.”

“For what, darling?” 

“My mother and her… entendres.”

“Oh… well, I know she doesn’t mean any harm so I don’t mind it,” Rarity said, fanning a hoof at him. “It’s honestly a little flattering that your mother thinks so highly of me.”

You don’t even know, Frederic thought as he nodded at Rarity’s words. “In any case, well… how about we stop on the bridge?” 

“That sounds lovely,” Rarity said, walking beside Frederic as she assisted him down the stairs and out of the apartment complex. The two enjoyed their walk, the brisk autumn air feeling cool against their coats. They stopped at the bridge as Frederic requested, looking out at the water beneath them. 

“Are you alright?” asked Rarity. “It wasn’t too much of a strain, was it?” 

“No, no it wasn’t,” said Frederic, laughing a little. “It’s nice to be out of doors. Between the hospital and staying in my apartment.” 

“I can imagine,” Rarity said. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “This is a lovely spot, Frederic. Do you come by here often?” 

“Not all that often,” said Frederic. “I mean, I’m not always… out here in Ponyville. But I’ve always thought this was a nice place. It’s not as busy as some other places in town. It’s a little out of the way, just before you leave the town, between the comforts of normal living and the quiet of the countryside.” 

“Well, perhaps we... should frequent this spot a little more often together,” Rarity said softly. She then caught herself, blinking before turning a bright shade of pink. “Oh my… did I say that out loud?” she said, bringing a hoof to her mouth. “Oh dear…” 

“Mm?” asked Frederic, who had been a little lost in the view of the river.

Rarity gave a small sigh of relief. “Oh, nothing…” Thank goodness… though, I can’t help but feel he should have heard that… she thought. “Just mentioning how the air is nice out this time of year,” she lied. 

“Mm,” he replied, nodding. In truth, he had heard what she had originally said, but chose not to pursue it, quietly pocketing her words in the back of his mind. I’ll tend to that later… he thought, taking a moment to recenter himself. 

“Tell me, are you from Prance or were you born here in Equestria?” Rarity asked, a little curious. 

“Oh, I was born here,” he said. “I’ve never actually seen Prance in person.”

“I’d love to visit Prance someday… to see Mareis lit up in lights…” Rarity sighed. 

“Mmhmm,” hummed Frederic, musing on it. “Someday.” 

“Do you happen to have the time Frederic? I left my watch at home,” Rarity asked. 

Frederic looked at his watch. “About half past noon, almost.”

“Excellent, we’re ahead of schedule. Would you mind accompanying me with getting the last of the party favors? I could use the company,” Rarity said with a smile. 

“I don’t see why not,” Frederic said, smiling congenially.

“Splendid!” Rarity said giddily. The two of them left the bridge, making their way to the nearby market. “I went shopping with Fluttershy yesterday, so we were able to get most of the things I needed. I still need popcorn, some sodas and…” Rarity then paused. “Do you think we should buy more adult drinks or will soda be enough? I do have some wines back at the Boutique...” 

“Well…” said Frederic, thinking. “I don’t know much about movie-going occassions. A bottle or two at a social gathering probably wouldn’t be too out of place.”

“Okay, so then I’ll be sure to pick up a couple bottles of soda for those that would rather not drink,” Rarity said. “Do you think popcorn will be enough or would chips be good as well?” 

“Well, when is this going to be, again?” asked Frederic. “Do you think everyone will have dinner beforehoof?” 

“I did slate the movie for seven o’clock…” Rarity said. “Maybe just one bag of chips and two bags of popcorn, then.” 

“That sounds good,” said Frederic. As Rarity retrieved the things she needed, she couldn’t help but feel a little happier than she normally would be doing shopping.

“If I must say so Frederic, it was very nice of you to agree to come with me to finish up the shopping,” Rarity said. 

“Well, if I must say so it beats sitting around doing nothing,” said Frederic with a chuckle. 

Rarity laughed a little. “Well, I suppose so. Though there are worse things than doing nothing, sometimes.” 

“That’s true as well, I suppose,” Frederic nodded.

“For example, there’s nothing better than just laying back and reading a nice magazine or listening to some music in the comfort of your own home after working a week straight on a particular line of clothing. As much as I love it, I don’t fancy the idea of a sewing machine being the only thing I see every day for hours on end,” Rarity said. “I remember when I was designing a special line for Sapphire Shores and spending days and days on end, just threading and stitching and sewing and seaming and hemming…” she sighed. “I daresay I didn’t look at my sewing machine for a week afterward! I can imagine you must feel the same way when practicing a piece, no?” 

“Well, sometimes it does feel that way,” said Frederic, nodding. “Especially if it’s a particularly punishing piece.”

“Do you remember any in particular?” Rarity asked. 

“Rachmaneinoff” said Frederic flatly. “Anything Rachmaneinoff.” Rarity couldn’t help stifling a giggle at Frederic’s dramatic change of expression.

“Judging by your reaction, I promise I won’t ask you to play it… as long as you never ask me to make another dress like the ones the girls asked me to make for them…” Rarity said, her expression growing to match that of Frederic’s. 

“I think I can make that a promise.” 

“Care to shake on that?” Rarity said with a small smile, extending a hoof. 

Frederic took her hoof and shook it, chuckling softly. Rarity snickered as well. 

“Though that reminds me, I’ll have to make sure to get my practicing in today before the movie,” said Frederic. “Being in the hospital… has put me a little behind.”

“Oh, well you’re welcome to practice at the Boutique!” Rarity said. “I’d love to have a little music while I finish getting ready. Should we go back to your apartment to get your sheet music or do you not need it?” 

“Most of my current repertoire I have memorized at the moment,” said Frederic. “So I don’t really need it.” 

“Well, that must make things quite convenient.” 

“Yes,” said Frederic. “Until I look at the score weeks later and find I got a note wrong.” 

Rarity laughed. “That’s almost like looking over a dress I’ve worked on a hundred times only to find I’ve made a stitching mistake when I go back to the original design.” 

“Sounds like it. Having to unlearn a habit is the worst.” 

The two continued to converse as they made their way to the Boutique. Once they arrived, Rarity set down the snacks and drinks she had purchased on a nearby table. “How are you feeling Frederic? Are you feeling tired at all?” she asked, using her magic to pull down the screen that hung from the ceiling. 

“Well, now that you mention it…” he said, taking a seat.

“Would you like some water?” Rarity offered. 

“Yes, please,” said Frederic. “Mother has been very… pointed on making sure I’m hydrated.”

“And rightfully so,” Rarity said, hurrying off to the kitchen and getting him a cup of cool water. Once she returned, she passed it to him then made her way over to the piano, pulling the cover off of it. “I normally keep it covered so I can put displays on top of it, but you’re more than welcome to come by anytime and give it some use.” 

“Oh, thank you,” he said, taking a sip of water. “That’s very generous of you.” 

“Better somepony give it some use rather than let it collect dust, no?” Rarity said. “You’re welcome to begin practicing if you’d like. I’ll just be dusting and setting out cloths for the tables.” 

“Oh, thank you,” said Frederic. He finished his water before setting the glass down and made his way to the piano. 

“So, what will I be listening to you perform today?” Rarity asked as she withdrew several red pieces of cloth, draping them down over the tables where the snacks and drinks would go. “I think red works, don’t you? I mean, a premiere is considered a red-carpet affair,” she giggled. 

“Mm?” He looked over. “Oh, yes.” He nodded. “Red’s a good color for the tables.” He smiled, looking back to the blank [stand] at the piano. “Nothing particularly complicated, just a hoofful of classical sonatas.”

“Nothing wrong with that at all darling,” Rarity said with a wink, returning to her work. Several pieces of tableware began to glow with a light blue aura, hovering over to the table as she summoned them with her magic. She continued working as Frederic played through some Sonatas, often stopping to repeatedly go over one section. 

As Frederic played, she felt herself get caught up in the music, gently closing her eyes as the sound of the ivory keys filled her ears. Unfortunately, the moment was short lived as Frederic repeated the same section over for a third time. “Something wrong?” she asked. 

“I don’t think I have the tempo consistent.” 

“I see. I also hear there’s, well…” she said. 

“Mm?” 

“Well, there’s a note you’re missing. You’ve missed it a few times.” 

“Yes, you’re right” said Frederic, starting the same section again, taking it slower. “Always annoying…” He muttered.

“Try it again darling, I’m sure you’ll get it next time,” Rarity smiled supportively, quietly walking up behind to look over his shoulder.

Frederic nodded, repeating the phrase slowly this time, hitting the missing note and completing it properly.

“Excellent! I knew you could do it,” Rarity said, gently patting his shoulder. 

Frederic smiled. “Now I just need to do it forty-nine more times to make sure it stays right.” 

“Practice makes perfect, as they say,” Rarity said, leaving his side and going back to her duties. As he played, she unfurled a huge mat for the group to lay on as they watched the movie, taking a quick moment to sweep the dust off of it and out the front door. “I think I read somewhere that it takes three weeks to make something a habit. Or was it twenty-one repetitions? One of those two.” 

“Well, three weeks is twenty-one days, so I believe the answer is both,” Frederic mused. 

“Right,” said Rarity, still thinking on it, though she wasn’t completely sure. “That sounds about right. Hrm.”

“Either way, once it’s actually become a habit the number of days tend to stop mattering,” Frederic said.

“Very true,” Rarity nodded, shutting the door once the dust had been swept out. After a period of silence, Rarity spoke up. “There has been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” 

Frederic looked up. “What?”

“You can play an astounding repertoire of classical pieces, but… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you improvise. Do you have any improvisational pieces you can play?” Rarity asked. “It’s alright if you don’t, it was more a question of curiosity than anything.” 

“Well…” Frederic said, his hooves shuffling a little awkwardly. “I don’t really fancy myself a composer… I mean, sometimes I dabble a little with improvisation, just… not in public.”

“Oh… I see,” Rarity said, looking just the slightest bit crestfallen. “It’s alright, I was only curious,” she said, turning away to continue her work. Why do I feel sad…? she wondered. 

There was an awkward pause. “So anyway,” said Frederic.

“Hm? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring down the mood,” Rarity said, adjusting her mane nervously. She then turned to look around, surveying the room. “Do you think I should add anything else? We have the snacks and drinks, we have the mat to lay on… oh! I need to get the projector!” she said, hurrying over to the nearby closet. 

“The what?” Frederic asked, turning in his seat. 

“The projector! How else did you expect the movie to play?” Rarity giggled. She removed a large case from the closet, pushing it on its wheels and over to the back of the room. She opened it, and retrieved a large device with a lens on the front. She retrieved a stand that spread out into three long legs, attaching the main piece to it and standing it up. 

Frederic watched in curiosity, leaning forward. 

“There we go!” Rarity chirped as she adjusted it so it stood in the proper spot. “So, this is the projector,” she explained, pointing to the main mechanism. “The film goes here…” she said, retrieving the film canister and pulling out the film reel. She then attached it to the projector, feeding it through slightly. “This is the film reel, it’s what has the images on it. If you shine a light through it, it puts the picture on the wall, or screen, or whatever surface you can use. You press this button here and it starts to feed the reel through, a lightbulb turns on inside and the images being pushed through this lens and out onto that screen there.”  

“I see,” said Frederic. 

Rarity giggled. “How did you think it worked?” 

“I’m not sure,” said Frederic. “I guess I just assumed that you got a unicorn to play it on their horn. 

Rarity laughed. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t laugh.” 

“Please, do,” said Frederic, smiling. “It was a dumb idea.” 

“Now Frederic, there’s no need for self-deprecation! We all learn new things at times. ‘Everyday is a school day’, as they say,” she said demurely. 

“Hmm. True.” 

Rarity went to put the film reel tin aside when she blinked in surprise at seeing a vinyl record sitting in the tin. “Oh! They included a record that contains music to be played along with the movie, that’s new!” She then hoofed the tin over to Frederic. “Now I know for a fact you can handle this part,” she smiled.

Frederic smiled, gingerly taking the record and turning it over. “A little more in my element, certainly. Good condition, considering it’s a rental.”

“You’ve had bad experiences with rentals before?”

“Yes,” he said flatly. “Sometimes I rent one and it’s so scratched up it’s completely unplayable. I have my suspicions as to the culprits…” he muttered, thinking of Vinyl.

“That’s obscene! That’s like tearing fabric and expecting the store to resell it!” Rarity exclaimed. “I would never treat a record with such disrespect,” she huffed.

“Would that everypony shared those sentiments.”

“Well, I consider records much like my own works. I put countless hours of effort and time into each piece I craft, and for a pony to just deface it without a care in the world is just… heartbreaking,” Rarity said. She sighed. “Well, I suppose a record can always be replaced. Still, it just bespeaks an… utter disrespect.”

“Well put Rarity,” Frederic said with a soft smile. It’s rather pleasing to hear her say that… he thought to himself. Rarity then looked up at the clock, smiling.

“It’s almost seven, the girls should be here any minute now!” Rarity chirped giddily. “I’m going to go quickly freshen up; if the girls arrive before I’m done, just let them in and help them settle in please,” she said as she hurried off to the back of the Boutique.

“Will do,” said Frederic, nodding and taking a step towards the center of the room. As Rarity left, Frederic was tasked with the job of keeping himself occupied in a way that wouldn’t distract him from the doorbell. Or the doorknocker. Whichever got used. Just be patient, thought Frederic.

He walked over to some of the mannequins, admiring the outfits they had on. One of them was a dapper “business casual” getup. Another a set of flowing turquoise robes. Another was a light dress one might expect to see a mare wear on a boat on a Sunday afternoon.

Shortly after Frederic began to examine her mannequins, a knock on the front door was heard. Frederic made his way over to the door, opening it and finding Rarity’s friends all waiting outside.

“Hey, uh… who are you?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“That’s Frederic, Rainbow! Rarity’s new friend?” Twilight said, nudging the pegasus’ shoulder.

“Ohhh, okay,” Rainbow said. “Nice to meet ya Fred!” 

“Hello,” said Frederic. “Rainbow?”

“Rainbow Dash. Surprised you haven’t heard of me.”

“I know ya think yer the toast of the town Dash, but ya still got a long way to go to impress Canterlot,” Applejack said with a smirk, to which Dash blew off with a huff. “Nice to finally meet ya Fred, I’m Applejack.”

“And Iiiiiiiiiiii’m Pinkie Pie!” a shrill, energetic voice said, its owner bounding to the front in a flurry of hot pink fur. “Hey! I remember you! You were the really nice piano pony at the Gala!” 

“Ah, yes,” said Frederic. “I remember.” And I am wearing a cup.

“Pinkie Pie, settle down! We don’t need to scare him off,” Twilight said. “I’m Twilight Sparkle. It’s a pleasure to meet you Frederic. Rarity’s told me all about you,” she said with a small smile. 

“Oh?” asked Frederic. “I hope the reviews weren’t too negative.”

“That’s between us,” Twilight said with a wink. “Don’t worry though! You seem nice enough,” she said with a smile. As the girls entered, Fluttershy entered last, smiling softly.

“I’m Fluttershy, it’s very nice to finally meet you,” she said. “Tonight should be a lot of fun, I helped Rarity pick out the film.” 

“Did you now?” asked Frederic. 

“It’s one of my favorites.” 

“I see,” said Frederic, nodding. “You’ll have to forgive me I’m… not the most familiar with movies.” 

Fluttershy chuckled. “Oh, that’s alright. You don’t need to know a whole lot going into a Hardly Laughing movie.” 

“He does all his own stunts!” said Rainbow Dash.

“Why’s his name ‘Hardly Laughing’?” Pinkie asked. “I thought we were gonna be watching a comedy movie.”

“Hardly Laughing’s movies are mostly comedies, but it’s a bit of an ironic name,” Twilight explained.

“We’ll see about that!” Pinkie huffed. “If I know anything, it’s laughing ponies!” 

“I didn’t know you watched movies Twilight,” Fluttershy chimed in.

“I bought a projector for the Library a while back and I’ve kinda been binging on movies…” Twilight laughed sheepishly, rubbing her shoulder. 

“Well, it never hurts to pick up a new hobby,” said Rarity, finally re-entering the room. “I take it everyone made it here with no worries?”

“Seems like it,” Frederic said.

“Very good! Girls, there are chips, popcorn and drinks laid out for you all. If you want more... adult drinks, I’ll be more than happy to get some for you all,” Rarity said. “I always enjoy a glass of pinot with a movie so I’ll be having that. Frederic, what would you like to drink?” she asked as she summoned over a bottle of red wine and several glasses with her magic. 

“Oh, well, if you don’t mind, I think I wouldn’t mind a pinot, myself,” said Frederic. 

“Excellent,” said Rarity. “Best not let a bottle go to waste!” She poured a glass for Frederic and levitated it over to him. 

“Isn’t he an alcoholic?” whispered Rainbow Dash.

“Where’d ya get that idea?” Applejack whispered back.

“Vinyl mentioned it the other day. I heard he keeps a ton of booze back at his place,” Dash continued to whisper.

“I don’t think it’s fair to judge him when we barely know him Dash,” Twilight added. 

“I’m not judging!” said Rainbow Dash. “Just asking.” 

“Applejack, what would you like to drink darling?” Rarity asked.

“Soda’s fine, I’ve got an early start tomorrow, can’t afford to get tipsy tonight,” Applejack said earnestly.

“Fair enough! What about you two?” Rarity said to Twilight and Rainbow Dash.

“I’ll just have soda,” Rainbow Dash said. “Unless you’ve got a little vodka to mix with it,” she chuckled mischievously.

“Behave and we’ll see,” Rarity winked. “And you, Twilight?”

“I think I’ll have a little of the pinot! I’m feeling like cutting loose a bit!” Twilight said, to which the others looked at her. “What? I’m a big filly, I can handle it!”

“Twilight, you’re… uh…” Applejack started.

“You’re a featherweight,” Rainbow Dash finished, to which Applejack nudged her shoulder.

“Look, I know I don’t exactly drink often, but a little bit of the stuff every now and again never hurts,” Twilight said.

“Says the mare that drank only one pint of cider at your brother’s wedding and ended up dancing on a table a half hour later!” Rainbow Dash said.

“Here’s what I’ll do, I’ll pour you a quarter glass and see how you feel,” Rarity said, retrieving a glass for Twilight and only pouring a quarter of the way up. She then levitated it to Twilight, who received it gladly. “Now, be careful with this, you have to sip it.” 

“I know what wine is, Rarity, sometimes I do understand the things I read about,” said Twilight, laughing as she took a sip. She made a face as the drink took her by surprise. 

“Do you not like it Twilight? I can get you something else if you’d like,” Rarity said. 

“It’s fine! I’m just… not used to it, is all!” Twilight said, raising her chin indignantly to Rainbow Dash’s snickering.

“Pinkie, what would you—” Rarity started, but stopped when she saw that Pinkie had withdrawn a large soda-drink hat seemingly from nowhere. “...You seem set,” she said. “Fluttershy?”

“Oh, um… soda will be alright,” Fluttershy said softly.

“Oh come on Shy! You never drink, why not join in the fun? Twilight’s doing it!” Rainbow Dash said.

“W-Well… I don’t know,” Fluttershy said nervously.

“Don’t pressure her if she doesn’t want to Dash,” Applejack said.

“I’m not pressuring her AJ, I’m just trying to help her relax and unwind,” Dash retorted. Fluttershy remained silent, mulling the idea over.

“You really don’t have to have it if you don’t want it darling, you know we won’t judge you,” Rarity said.

“Mmm… I guess I’ll have some… but only a little!” Fluttershy said.

“Of course! You’re welcome to whatever you’d like to drink,” Rarity said as she poured a small amount in a glass for Fluttershy. “Okay, now that everyone has drinks, I’ll be right back with the bowls for the popcorn and snacks!” she said, hurrying off.

“Alright Fluttershy, now it’s a party!” Rainbow Dash cheered. 

“Let’s not get crazy now, y’all. No need to give him any ideas,” Applejack smirked.

“Who, me? Far be it from me to ever take advantage of an inebriated mare,” Frederic said as he took a sip of his wine.

“Good answer,” Applejack said, bumping his shoulder with a hoof. “Otherwise that cup wouldn’t do ya much good.” 

Frederic felt a cold chill wash over him. “How did…?” 

Pinkie Pie whistled loudly.

“We were there, remember?” Rainbow Dash said with a smirk.

“Yes, that much I vaguely remember… but how did you know I was…” He paused. “Wearing one?” 

Pinkie Pie whistled loudly again. 

Frederic raised a perplexed eyebrow. 

“It was a tip-off,” said Rainbow Dash. “Don’t ask how.” 

“That still doesn’t—”

“Trust me Fred, yer better off not thinkin’ about it. It’ll hurt yer head less,” Applejack said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve learned that for some things, you just don’t ask questions.”

“Here’s one I’d like to ask,” Twilight spoke up. “You claim it was a tip-off from Pinkie, Dash… so then why were you staring?” she asked as she took a sip of her wine, this time her reaction less pronounced as she grew accustomed to the flavor.

“Staring? Staring at what?” Dash asked, her eyes darting frantically around to the others.

“Really Dash? We all saw it,” Twilight said, pressing the subject further.

“I wasn’t staring, honest!”

“What was she staring at?” Fluttershy asked.

“Nothing!” Rainbow Dash said.

“Oh, it was ‘somethin’’ alright,” Applejack chuckled.

“‘Something’ is definitely right,” Twilight affirmed. 

“I still don’t know what that ‘something’ was,” Fluttershy stated.

“Oh for criminy’s sake, she was staring at his butt! His! Butt!” Pinkie exclaimed, throwing her hooves up in frustration.

“Oh my!” Fluttershy said, covering her mouth with her hooves.

“Y-you can’t prove that! None of you can! I didn’t do it, you didn’t see me do it, and you can’t prove I did anything!” Rainbow Dash protested, crossing her forelegs over her chest and looking away, even though her face sported a stripe almost as rosy as her eyes. 

“Methinks a certain pegasus doth protest too much,” Twilight mused.

“In Equestrian, egghead,” Rainbow Dash said.

“She means if it really was nothin’, then why’re ya gettin’ so bent outta shape?” Applejack grinned.

Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to speak, but instead decided to stay quiet.

Frederic said nothing, but slowly and cautiously took another sip of wine. It’s a shame this glass has a bottom... 

“Anyway, woo!” said Pinkie Pie. “Hardly Laughing movie!”

“If that isn’t an ice-breaker, I don’t know what is,” Twilight laughed. 

“Tell me about it,” Applejack nodded. “So what’s this movie about again?” 

“A quiet guy does chase scenes and crazy stunts,” said Rainbow Dash, glad to be away from the awkward part of the conversation. 

“I meant the plot,” said Applejack. 

“I just told you,” said Rainbow Dash, looking as though she was confused that her simple explanation went unheeded.

Rarity then returned, having gotten napkins and bowls out of the kitchen, placing them on the table. “Alright fillies, serve yourselves when you’re ready!” she said cheerily. “Did I miss something?”

“Only a whole lot!” Pinkie said.

“Is that so? Do tell,” Rarity said.

“Actually, how about we don’t and just say we did,” Rainbow Dash said firmly. “Instead, why don’t you get all cozy there with Frederic?”

“Oh… well, I suppose, if it’s alright with him,” Rarity said.

Frederic paused for a moment. “Well, I don’t think I mind,” Frederic said, scooting over to allow Rarity more space. “No sense in me hogging the couch for myself.”

“Such a gentlecolt!,” Rarity said demurely. “Let me start the movie and I’ll take my spot,” Rarity said, moving over to the projector and inserting the film reel. She fed it through the slot and turned it on, the device whirring to life as it waited for her to hit the play button. “Are we ready? Does anypony need anything else before we start?”

“We forgot about the music,” Frederic said, getting up from his seat.

“You’re right! Be a dear and ready the phonograph please,” Rarity asked as she waited patiently by the projector. Frederic moved over to where the movie tin sat, retrieving the record and gently placing it on its platter, placing the needle in the outermost groove of the record.

“Ready when you are,” Frederic said.

“Excellent. Anypony else?” Rarity asked.

“I think we’re good,” Twilight giggled, a faint blush coloring her cheeks a lighter tint of pink.  

Rarity lit her horn, dimming the lights as the words “Presented in Glorious SEE-O-VISION” flashed on the screen as Frederic started the phonograph, music beginning to fill the room. 

On screen appeared a pony with a thick, curly black mane and a small mustache, wearing a bowler hat and jacket. The stallion was shown walking up and down a sidewalk, a sad and lonely expression on his face. Two small colts then came up to him and began to bother him, to which he shooed them away, letting him walk alone in peace. As he continued down the sidewalk, he encountered a beautiful young mare working a flower stand. He carefully trotted up to her and purchased a flower. As the mare went to give the stallion change for his money, the stallion accidentally dropped the flower. As he tried to help her grab it, he quickly realized that she could not find it. The stallion then realized she was blind. 

“Poor thing…” Rarity murmured softly. 

As the movie went on, everypony present found themselves thoroughly sucked in, hoping to see the stallion win the heart of the flower mare. Rarity shifted in her spot, finding herself a little uncomfortably positioned.

“Excuse me a moment,” Rarity whispered. She quickly repositioned herself, resting against Frederic as opposed to next to him, her back to his front. Frederic found himself in a position most stallions would find difficult to resist. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, his eyes trailing down her side as he took in her curves.  

It was easy for Frederic to be distracted from the movie. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what to think of it. It was… different. Very exaggerated, and from his position in didn’t make sense. Maybe it’s not supposed to… he figured. No, Rarity was grabbing his attention a lot more. 

Unbeknownst to him, Rarity too was all too aware of the situation they were now in. She could feel his chest at her upper back, his eyes wandering off the screen and onto her. The only thing she could tell about Frederic’s current state of mind was that his heart was racing, matching her own. I wonder… she thought. She dared a glance behind her, accidentally locking eyes with him, causing her to quickly turn her head away, a fiery blush lighting up her face. Oh no, he knows!

Damn it! She knows! Frederic thought, looking away quickly himself, swallowing hard. She’s going to move, the moment’s ruined— His eyes widened when he felt her shift a little closer to him instead of away from him. Oh. Well, that’s fine, too.

I hope this isn’t too forward of me… Rarity thought, her heart pounding in her chest as Hardly Laughing fell off of a building. (He did his own stunts, too!) Rarity gasped as she saw the stallion on the screen leap off the building, instinctively grabbing a hold of Frederic’s hoof and holding it tightly. 

That-that-that’s new! Frederic thought, entirely panicked internally. It was a wonder that none of the girls were looking back at them, or there would have assuredly been a misunderstanding. She’s going to let go any moment now. Surprisingly, that moment never came. Instead, Rarity had continued to grip his hoof in her own, now seemingly unconsciously running the edge of her pad of his hoof. He reveled in the feeling it gave him; Rarity herself was well taken care of, so her hooves only reflected that sense of self-dedication. Her hooves felt smooth and polished against the inner flesh of his hoof. Her coat also felt incredibly plush, feeling like silk against his. 

I really hope he doesn’t think I’m being too forward, Rarity thought. I hope they don’t turn around to face me, I’ll never hear the end of it! she exclaimed in her head.  

Thankfully for her, Hardly Laughing had just bumped into a large bully, and in the awkward silence, the other girls were glued to the screen. Then Hardly Laughing blew some dust in the bully’s face and ran away. The bully chased, but hit his head on a low-hanging sign, drawing peals of laughter from the other girls. 

The movie played out to its finale, the stallion having eventually found a way to win over the blind mare’s heart and riding off into the sunset with her, everypony in attendance applauding the conclusion. With the girls no longer focused on the movie, Rarity and Frederic quickly shifted back to their original positions, averting their eyes from each other until a proper opportunity to talk privately presented itself.

“Well! I hope you all enjoyed the movie! I daresay I enjoyed it,” Rarity said with a smile.

“It was… different. Not necessarily my type of movie but Hardly Laughing is a splendid actor. Very physical. The music was good too,” Frederic said.

“That guy was awesome! His stunt work is top notch!” Rainbow Dash said.

“The way he bought all her flowers was so sweet,” Fluttershy sighed.

“He’s a pretty clever guy, I gotta give it to him. He thought up some interesting ways to get out of trouble,” Twilight said.

“I like that he did whatever it took to make that mare happy,” Applejack said. “That was a pretty satisfyin’ ending.”

Pinkie remained silent, as if pondering something. “That actor is good, but he must be very sad.”

“Why’s that Pinkie?” Twilight asked.

“Well, while his name is ‘Hardly Laughing’, he almost never laughed throughout the entire movie. He only smiled when he won the flower mare’s heart, and even then it was half-hearted. I could see that he’s a very sad pony behind his eyes. His name is more appropriate than we know. I hope he finds happiness someday…” Pinkie said shockingly astutely, leaving everypony present in stunned silence. “What? I know comedy, and that pony is using comedy to cover up sadness!” 

“Well, that’s that,” said Rainbow Dash. “I felt good five minutes ago and now I don’t.” 

“That…” Twilight started. “Maybe we should find a different actor for the next movie night…”

“Rarity, can I borrow your projector and movie? I wanna learn some of his tricks!” Pinkie said happily, having bounced back to her normal countenance.

“Of course darling, just be sure to take care of it,” Rarity said, getting up off the couch. “This was a gift from a particular pony for designing her wedding dress!” 

“Are you sure you think it’s a good idea for her to be trying… ‘tricks’ from that movie?” Frederic whispered. 

“Oh, she’s done worse,” Rarity whispered back. “Do you promise to take care of it?” she asked, directing her attention back to Pinkie.

“I promise!” Pinkie said, saluting Rarity then standing up to help the others clean up and put away the projector. Slowly but surely, the girls left one by one until Rarity and Frederic were left alone.

“Well, tonight was fun!” Rarity said with a smile.

“Yes, it was,” Frederic said. The two found themselves in a bit of an awkward silence.

“Erm… do you need me to walk you home?” Rarity asked.

“I think I can manage. You’re already home, and I don’t think it fair to make you walk me home just to come back,”

“That’s very kind of you, Frederic. Have your mother send me correspondence when you get there, okay?” Rarity said.

“I will. Have a good evening Rarity,” Frederic said with a smile, turning to leave.

“Oh, before you go…” Rarity said. When Frederic turned, he found himself locked in a moment he’d hold dearly for quite some time. Rarity leaned up and quickly planted a kiss on Frederic’s cheek. She took a step back, smiling brightly, a bright blush painted across her cheeks, illuminating her sapphire blue eyes. “Have a good night, Frederic…” she said softly, winking at him as she closed the door to her Boutique.

Frederic merely sat there, stunned as he stared at the Boutique’s door. He eventually came to his senses, slowly making his way home, thoroughly unable to remove his hoof from where Rarity’s kiss had landed on his cheek, smiling softly at the thought.





Rarity spent the next hour or so cleaning up and putting things away, when a letter popped into existence near the front door. She made her way over to it, finding it was from Orianne. She opened and read it, giving a small sigh of relief.

“Oh good, he made it home alright…” Rarity said softly. “Now I can rest easy…” she said. She made her way upstairs, slipping on her robes and sliding into bed. As she lay there, she reviewed the day’s events, and found that her heart would begin to race every time Frederic came to mind. 

If I haven’t already… then definitely…





Frederic made his way into the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Alright… tomorrow I have to practice and then head over to the schoolhouse to resume my tutoring duties, as far as my body can handle, he thought.

“So… how went it with Rarity?” Orianne asked from just outside the bathroom, causing him to almost choke on his toothbrush. 

“It… it was a good time,” said Frederic. 

“Well, tell me more,” she said. “What did you do?” 

“We went shopping for snacks and drinks, then we chatted for a bit, we went to the Boutique, watched the movie then I came home,” Frederic said, giving her the blandest possible answer he could think off. “Her friends came over to watch with us.” 

“That smile on your face says otherwise… you cannot lie to your mother, my darling. I have been looking at your beautiful face since the day I brought you into the world,” Orianne said softly. “She’s good for you, Frederic. I wouldn’t wait too long…” she said. “Good night Frederic,” she said, moving into the next room and turning off the light.

“Good night, mother…” Frederic said, moving into his own bedroom and crawling into bed. He got comfortable, and closed his eyes. As his mind began to wander, it arrived to what had occurred during the movie. The feeling of closeness, the small gestures, the scent of her perfume on his coat…

Well… things are definitely going somewhere. Where that is, I’m not sure yet, but I think I have an idea… 

He tried to brush the thought from his mind, rolling over onto his back. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see her.

Damn it.