Chapter III: "If you could only know"

>You find yourself watching a young girl being followed by a crowd of people as she patrols around the halls
>She had been voted princess of the Fall Formal only a few weeks ago.
>Now everyone knew who she was.
>She was often followed by a collection of students desperate for her attention.
>Constant unfamiliar faces obscuring her vision, asking, demanding her approval.
>At first she tried to be friends with all of them, trying to give each of them the time she felt they deserved.
>Her brash nature and lack of patience had ruined her future before, she didn’t want it to happen here as well.
>Despite her efforts, she soon realized that being kind and charitable only got her stepped on, and much as she tried otherwise, she eventually let her ego take hold again.
>And she learnt to step on them instead.
>Every time she pushed a girl over, or called someone ugly or a loser, she added fuel to her unrelenting surplus of fair-weathered followers who craved her company out of a need for status. All to circumvent their own insecure shortcomings.
>She was walking a road where the destination is loneliness.
>Anyone who might have actually cared for her, she pushed away with her arrogant attitude.
>You’re sad to see this girl like she is.
>You like to believe that, even at that time, she was just jaded by the world around her, that there was still a good person underneath.
>Unfortunately, the scene about to play out is one you know all too well, and what happens next will be no indication that a thought of compassion or guilt has ever once passed through this girl’s mind.
>As her group moves towards the stairwell, they come across another girl. She is on her knees, frantically picking up her recently spilt school books.

>”Hey, watch where you’re dropping things lady!”
>A crude and short follower flings out the first words.
>”I – I’m sorry, I-“
>A taller but equally crude brat joins in
>”Yeah, you don’t wana get in our way, we’re with the Fall Formal Princess.”
>He gestures to the girl who stands at the forefront of the group.
>She doesn’t say anything, just glares as menacingly as possible at her victim.
>”I – I – I… please, please I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your way.”
>Tears well up in her eyes as she scrambles for her remaining books.
>The girl glares at her, content with a small display of power and for her victim to scurry away relatively unharmed, but at that moment that her nearest companion, one of average height and build, with spikey hair and a self-absorbed smirk, whispers into her ear.
>”Y’know, it would be the hot if you put this dumb bitch in her place right now.”
>His words send shivers down her spine.
>She doesn’t care at all about fulfilling his sexual fantasies, despite the fact that they had just started going out.
>It was more of a popularity stunt anyway.
>But she does care all too much about fulfilling what she thought people wanted of her, and more than anyone else she knows, he knows what people want.
>Before she even has a chance to make good on his suggestion, he puts her in the spotlight.
>”I think this chick is making fun of us, she won’t even look at us straight.”
>He mutter this to the crude brats instead of her, along with similar encouragements to rile them up.
>So many times this had happened before, and the girl knows how this always ends.
>Either you step on others, or others step on you.
>She lasy her boot into the hand of the hapless girl on the floor as she reaches for her books.

>The girl squeaks in pain, wincing as the boot digs in, then looks back up to her assailant.
>”P – Please, I won’t bother you I promise.”
>She pleads not only with her words, but with her eyes.
>You try to look away, but you cannot escape from this.
>You cannot escape from her pleading eyes.
”Oh it’s too late for that, just looking at you bothers me.”
>You feel your mouth move and say the words.
”I mean seriously, what is it with your eyes? It’s like they’re the two big dumb lightbulbs and someone forgot to screw one of them in.”
>You try to stop yourself but it’s no use. These are your words, you are that girl.
>And that will follow you forever.
”Did someone drop you when you were a kid or something?”
>You grasp the girl’s face in one hand and rotate her face to and fro, trying to get both eyes to focus on you at once.
“God, even the paintings from Scooby Doo have better working eyes than you.”
>You remove your boot from the girl’s hand and kick her backwards, causing her to flop over in an array of tears and fluttering pages.
>Your victim looks up to her assailant on her hands and knees, able to do nothing but tremble and wish desperately for mercy.
>You wish you could stand between yourself and the victim.
>You wish you could help the girl pick up her books, lift her up from the ground and tell off that horrible group of people.
>But you can only witness.
”Don’t look so sad, maybe dropping you again would jolt your eyes back in place. It’s not your head could get any more damaged then it already is anyway.”
>The group behind giggles feverishly in amusement, enjoying the safety and dominance you provide.
>The victim hides her face away to try and cover her tears.
>It’s here you would like to leave it, having already shown more than enough for the message to be received, but then a young boy places himself in-between you and your victim.

>He’s small, even compared to you, despite being of equal age.
>His skin is a light green that could easily be seen as teal.
>His hair is messy and unkept, and his eyes are framed by large prescription glasses.
>He throws his arms and legs out as widely as he can, forming a wall with his body.
>”Stop it.”
>The girl’s clique echoes taunting sounds to provoke further conflict.
>”Ooooh”
>”Get a load of this guy”
>”Are you gonna take that?”
>All the while you feel like poking and prodding at you with playful gestures, as if you’re some animal set up for their entertainment.
>You would normally be prepared to respond to their demands, against a stranger. This boy is not a stranger.
>You turn back and forth between the group and the boy, vulnerable doubt covering your face.
>A single face in the crowd catches your hesitation.
>”I won’t watch you do this, not to her, not to yourself.”
>A snort of laughter spurts from a random member of the group.
>Directed at you.
>At least it feels like it.
>You snap back to your usual self, at least enough to appear that way.
”Yeah, you’re out of luck here four-eyes, I got a boyfriend, not that I would consider dating a guy who can’t even finish a single pullup in gym class”
>Another chuckle from behind.
>”Why are you being so mean to her, she never hurt you, never hurt anyone.”
”Never hurt anyone? That girl’s a walking disaster, it’s only a matter of time before someone else ends up as dumb as her because of one of her little ‘accidents’.”
>The boy pouts angrily.
>”It’s not like you’re some master of balance. I remember when you first came here and took out half the cafeteria people started to call you Sperglegs.”
>A snort of laughter erupts from behind you.
>You nervously look back towards the group as you feel yourself blush.
>You can’t let yourself be seen this way in front of them.
>In front of him.
>So your fear turns to anger.

>You want to tell the boy to leave, to get out while he can.
>That nothing he can or could have done can save you, and he should just give up and forget he ever knew you.
>Despite everything you could want you had to do what was expected of you
>The boy notices your distress.
>”I – I, I’m sorry, I thought you knew about that.”
>Again, they laugh at you
”Shut up, asshole! Nobody’s cares what you think!”
>The boy winces as you yell, but stands his ground.
>”I thought you did.”
>You cross her arms and glare at him.
”You thought wrong. Listening to your nerd talk was painful enough, worse yet was listening to your weird obsession with magic.”
>The boy winces again, his stance weakening from your words.
”Can you believe this, guys? This loser believes in magic.”
>Chuckles abound from the crowd of hecklers as they join in on her insults.
>”I bet he still believes in the tooth fairy.”
>”Or Santa Claus”
>”I recon he reads those stupid magic books in the library””
>The boy sniffs and his arms fall to his side. His eyes water as he recounts the past.
>”You’re the one who told me about magic. Don’t you remember?”
>The crowd is silent
>”I thought it was our secret, you only ever told me about it when no one else was around.”
>You feel your face soften, filled with doubt over your actions.
>You take a step back.
>Then he steps forward and talks behind your back.
>”Yo you used to be friends with this loser?”
>You snapped around to face him
”N – No! This guy just making stuff up!”
>The shorter of the crude followers speaks up.
>”I remember now, they used to hang out in the yard and talk about books and stuff.”

”No we didn’t! He just used to follow me around and never shut up.”
>You try to lie your way out of it, but they are unconvinced
>”Yeah right, I bet you two made gay little friendship bracelets together.”
>”I bet you two had a nerdy book club were you talked about Harry Potter”
>”Wow, you really are a loser.”
>The boy watches as the crowd starts to turn on you
>He tries to take the opportunity to somehow reach you, but his words only succeed in embarrassing you further.
>”Why do you spend time with these people when they talk to you like that? I saw you run into the bathroom to cry once. That was because of them wasn’t it?
>He was always good at saying exactly the wrong thing when he tries to help people.
>Even when he’s right
>You spin around, face red with both embarrassment and anger as they start to laugh at you again.
>”SHUT. UP. I never cry and we’re not friends you freak!”
>The scream is heard all around the halls, calling on even more people to spectate the situation.
>The boy’s eyes are still watery, you are fuming with rage, and the crowd is constantly talking, spewing unheard judgements to both of them.
>The boy stares you down, eyes stoic in the face of your breakdown.
>He bites back his fear, clenching his fists and walking towards you.
>You stand your ground, determined not to be budged any more
>”This isn’t you Sunset.”
>The boy walks directly up to you, to the point where you are face to face. Foreheads almost touching.
>You cackle as you glare at him, thinking you have the advantage.
“What, Four-Eyes? are you gonna-“
>You are silenced as he wraps his arms around your waist and places his head on your shoulder.
>Pulling you into a hug, in front of everyone.

>Your eyes are wide with shock, the anger dissipating into nothingness as you try to comprehend what just happened.
>The crowd is silent, and for a single moment all you and the boy can think about is each other. In this moment, he can whisper in her ear without anyone else hearing or dementing its message.
>”I’m sorry, I don’t know a lot about helping people, or making friends.”
>Your arms remain at your sides, fingers twitching involuntarily as you try to handle all the emotions at once.
>”I don’t think you know either, that’s why we’re here right? We’re both just confused.”
>You feel tears dibble onto your jacket.
>After these years you still don’t know if they were your tears, or his.
>”They just love that you’re confused. They don’t know who you are, they don’t understand anything about magic.”
>Despite all the parts of your mind screaming at you not to, your arms slowly begin to return the hug.
>”Because this feeling right here is magic isn’t it?”
>You wish this moment could have lasted forever.
>You wish you could hug the boy back, and never hurt him ever again.
>But you’re not in control, you don’t think you ever were
>His voice comes from behind you, taunting you, kicking you, putting you down.
>”Sunset and Anon, sitting in a tree”
>A collection of similar phrases escape the crowd, along with laughs, adorable noises from girls and hushed whispers.
>Eventually the crowd devolves into a white noise, and the only words you can make out are from the familiar voices of her followers.
>”Get a room losers!”
>”Are they gonna kiss?”
>”I thought Sunset was going out with Flash?”
>”Wow, she really is a loser after all.”
>You try to close your eyes, but you can’t
>You try to speak, but your voice can’t reach him.
>Because you can’t let anyone see you this way.
>This weak,
>this vulnerable
>this lonely.
>”Please Sunset, I just want my friend back.”

>You want to hug him back, to apologize for everything you did.
>But instead you see your arms violently tear him from the warm embrace, and hear yourself scream.
“Get off me you FREAK!”
>Your leg whips out and strikes him square in the stomach, propelling him backwards.
>his arms stretch out towards you in the air as he falls.
>But where you would have expected him to hit the ground, only damaged enough to prove to others your dominance, only so much to save yourself from this situation, but perhaps still little enough for him to forgive you some day,
>he keeps falling.
>Below the ground you thought was there.
>You reach out to catch him, but your body is frozen.
>You see his accusing eyes as he descends lower and lower, asking you why you did it, asking you why you hate him.
>Even years later, you still can’t answer.
>Voices in the crowd cry out in shock as his body is beaten again and again against the sharp corners of the stairs.
>You crumble to the ground with each passing step that breaks his frail body ever more.
>You clutch at your hair and try to cover your ears from the horrible noise, but the noise echoes over and over in your mind.
>A mass of bodies rushes past you and down the stairs.
>A collection of students stop by you to comment on your actions, but their words turn to white noise in your mind.
>All you can do is sit there, shivering, trying to do everything in your power not to cry.
>But you do hear him speak.
>”Wow Sunset, I was wrong, you’re ice cold aren’t you?”
>He slaps a hand on your shoulder.
>”Ice cold but hot as the sun, hope I don’t end up burnt by the Sunset like that autist, eh babe?”
>You twist your eyes to see Flash Sentry standing there, still with that self-absorbed smirk on his face.

>”Calm down baby, this whole thing will blow over, trust me.”
>He pats your shoulder one more time before following the crowd.
>You want nothing more than to step away from yourself, to walk away, disgusted at your actions like everybody else.
>Or just to throw yourself down the stairs as well, so you could watch him be saved while you lay there dying.
>But you have to bear the burden of guilt, you have to bear every moment.
>Eventually almost everyone filters out of your vision and to the bottom of the stairs.
>Except for one.
>She is battered and bruised, at least on the inside but her face was not of sadness, only of pity.
>She walks up and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.
>Your head snaps back to be greeted by a good natured face with eyes that cross over each other.
>You can’t control your tears any longer.
>You shoot up and throw your arms around the girl you hurt.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, there’s nothing wrong with you. There never was.”
>The girl pulls you back.
>”Y – you know it’s too late for that, right?”
>You wrap your arms around your shoulders and slowly nod.
>”You could have been friends you know.”
>You nod again, still shaking.
>”He became a monster after this, and everything he’s ever done and will ever do is all your fault.”
>You can’t nod anymore, you can’t move.
>”You don’t deserve friends, you never did, and now that you do you’ll only lose them when they find out how terrible a person you are.”
>Every word tears apart the scene around you, until you are standing in darkness.
>”Celestia was right to get rid of you, you didn’t deserve to be her student. The world would be a better place if Twilight had just killed you when you took the crown.”
>You realize that it’s not her voice anymore, it’s yours.
>Slowly the dream dissolves into nothing, leaving you in the darkness of your bedroom.

>You spend a time finding yourself in the abyss.
>Wondering if you’re really here, wondering which memories are the dream and which are yesterday’s.
>Eventually the memories become clear.
>Anon and the pendant.
>Rainbow Dash attacking him.
>Her being suspended, Celestia’s warning.
>Anon at the science block.
>Your last two days basically revolved around him, it’s no wonder he’s invading your dreams as well.
>You wipe your eyes to try and clear out the crust of sleep, only to discover how damp your face is.
>Despite the cold, you had been sweating in your sleep.
>Or crying, it was hard to tell.
>You feel drained, both emotionally and physically.
>You’re not sure if it’s because of the dream, or because of yesterday, both have left you exhausted.
>In both you look back and barely understand your actions.
>The horrible feelings that drove you to invade Anon’s sanctuary for some overly dramatic standoff feel like a distant memory from the person you are now.
>You briefly consider if that was perhaps a dream as well.
>…
>It would be nice to believe that.
>But even though those volatile feelings are distant now, you know they’re still inside you.
>Festering, rotting. Just like Fluttershy said.

>~”I want people to realize you haven’t changed”~

>Anon’s voice invades your mind.
>You clasp your arms around your knees and hold your legs close to your body.

>~’I want them to leave you all alone in the dirt, just like you were after Fall Formal.’~

>He always had those words for you, but this time, they cut deeper.
>Because this time you’re really trying.
>And you thought you had really changed.
>Now you’re not sure anymore.
>Not after how you yelled at Twilight, after you what you said to Anon.

>You need someone to talk to.
>It was a nice reminder to yourself that after years of being alone, you actually had people you could talk to.
>Well… if they would even talk to you after yesterday that is.
>You crawl over your bed and grab your phone.
>It occurs to you that you have no idea what time it is.
>You click on the phone and wince as harsh light burns your eyes.
>3:45am.
>You can’t imagine anyone would want to talk at this hour.
>You have a text.
>…
>It’s from Twilight.
>[Just so you know, I’m not still mad about today. I know you were just stressed about the whole thing with Anon, Rainbow Dash and Celestia]
>There are more.
>[You’re going to be okay for the excursion tomorrow right? Fluttershy and Pinkie would be heartbroken if we were still fighting]
>In all the commotion of the last two days you almost forgot about the excursion to the Crystal Mines.
>What a great day to wake up in a cold sweat mere hours before you had to go on a day-long trip to the most boring place in the world.
>At least you’ll have friends on this trip to talk to. That is if Ms. Cheerliee doesn’t have some annoyingly thorough checklist she wants everyone to complete throughout the day.
>You shouldn’t worry too much, she’s a good teacher, and Pinkie has this uncanny ability to get the fun out of every situation no matter how boring it is.
>It’s hard to think of the perfect example but you can remember countless times when she made a dull job like cleaning up after the Friendship Games pep rally memorable and fun.
>It’s hard to imagine how you ever got by without her.
>You touch your lip and discover yourself smiling, despite everything that’s happened.

>It’s funny to imagine that despite being from a completely different world, where you were the pupil of Celestia herself, despite everything that’s happened at Canterlot so far, you were starting to know what it feels like to have a normal life.
>Complaining about excursions, looking forward to weekends with friends, stressing about assignments and wondering where you’ll end up after school is over.
>These were the things that were slowly starting to take for granted. You find solace in having the opportunity to surround yourself with the comfort of friends.
>Sure, you had to deal with magic from Equestria every now and then, but all of that feels like an adventure to you now, like it was just a series of tests. Something Princess Celestia would put you through when you were her student.
>Your time spent rigorously trying to solve the riddle of this world’s magic is less of an imperative duty and more of an enjoyable hobby you could throw yourself into.
>Again, on reflection this seems strange to you considering the danger the magical threats have posed and how exasperating it was to handle them.
>But these things only brought you closer to your friends, and closer to the person you wanted to be.
>You wonder briefly what your life would be like if Princess Twilight never came here.
>You’d probably be like Anon at this point.
>Alone.
>…
>4:20am
>Time seems to just fly by in the mornings, doesn’t it?
>There’s one last text from Twilight.

>[For the record though, I still think you should give Anon a break. he’ll be on the trip with us and I think we should try and make peace with him. It’s important to mend fences, or you’ll lose those friends forever.]
>And here you thought you could distract yourself from Anon for a little while.
>You can appreciate Twilight’s advice, and maybe you were just a tad bit too nasty to Anon yesterday with the whole wishing he was still in the hospital thing…
>But it’s not something you think you really need to worry about right now, chances are Anon won’t want to spend an entire day on a boring trip to the Mines.
>He barely shows up in that Economics class anyway because you’re in it.
>Nobody’s gonna call the injured kid on his attendance anyway.
>…
>The kid you injured, remember?
>Because he’ll never let you forget that.
>No matter how many times you try to apologize.
>You look at the clock again
>4:35am
>Just when you’d like it if time drifted you away, it decides to stand antagonizing still.
>You fall back onto your pillow.
>…
>Can’t sleep
>Despite some comforting thoughts that ran through your head you’re still shaken by that dream.
>You really wish you had someone to talk to.
>You briefly consider texting Twilight despite the ungodly hour, but even you could never be that cruel.
>Especially this close to what was sure to be a day full of walking around in circles, never getting a chance to sit down.
>…
>You’re not making yourself feel better.
>You put the phone to the side and close your eyes.
>At that moment you remember someone else you know who might be able to talk at this hour
>In the darkness you scramble around your bedside table, finally laying your hands on a book.

>Only at that moment you remember that you have a lamp near your bed just for situations like this.
>You’re not really sure why that did not occur to you before finding the book.
>It’s not like you could read without any light.
>You switch on the light and brush through the pages, slowly passing by old memories that serve as little reminders of your previous life as Celestia’s student.
>It reminds you of the sad circumstances in which you left, but it also brings back good memories as well.
>It’s strange to think, that if you were just a little bit more patient, your life could be completely different right now.
>Eventually you reach the latest page,
>It’s blank.
>Okay, here goes.
>You take a quill pen that was also resting on your bedside table and bring it to the page.
>Before the ink touches the paper you hesitate a little.
>Although you are eager to talk with a good friend, you can’t help but feel apprehensive on whether or not they will take the time to answer.
>She is a princess after all.
>But she’s a princess of friendship right? That at least means she wouldn’t be mad at you if you wake her up for some advice.
>Right?
>Unsurprisingly, nobody answers your thoughts.
>You take a deep breath, and begin to scribe down your message
>{Hey Twilight, are you awake at the moment? I could really use some advice right now.}
>You lift your pen from the page and the words shimmer, cascading a soothing wash of golden light across the room.
>After that you wait.
>…
>5:42am
>Apparently you rested your head on the pillow for an hour.
>Time can go by so fast when you’re not paying attention…
>…
>5:50am
>Now that you’re paying pay attention, time seems to crawl along at an agonizing pace as you anxiously wait for an answer.
>…
>5:53am
>You flop onto your back and stare at the ceiling.
>Probably sleeping.
>Or busy, you wouldn’t be surprised, she is the princess after all, and here you are trying to waste her time.
>…
>Maybe Anon was right, maybe you don’t deserve friends after all.

>You’re surprised slightly with your profuse willingness to attack yourself.
>Feeling alone never had this much of an effect on you before.
>Maybe you’ve become too accustomed to not being alone.
>Or maybe it did effect you like this before, except you were alone long enough that you stopped noticing it.
>If Anon where here He’d probably say something like ‘it’s a good thing your friends are avoiding you, otherwise they’d find out how horrible a person you really are.’
>And he’s probably right as well.
>…
>6:00am
>Warm light is starting to trickle through the foggy window and into your bedroom as the sun begins to rise.
>It slowly creeps towards you, gently placing a silhouette of melting frost over the bed.
>You turn off the night lamp as it really doesn’t seem necessary anymore.
>It’s about time to get up anyway, Rarity is driving everyone to the excursion today and you’d best be in a presentable condition for when the lot of you arrive late
>Or “fashionably late” as Rarity likes to call it.
>Feels pretty unfashionable when you all get yelled at by Cheerilee.
>You sluggly pull yourself out of bed, prepared to head straight to the bathroom for your morning ritual.
>But as you do a golden light blazes through your hair and bathes the room in its presence.
>You turn around to witness shimmering letters appear in the still-open book.
>{Of course Sunset. I always have time for you.}
>You slowly approach the book and smile warmly as sparkling gold waves past you and dissipates into the air.
>You reach out and pick it up, along with the quill pen, eager to write your reply.

{Sorry to bother you this early Twilight, It’s been a complicated couple of days…}
>6:10am
>{It’s fine Sunset, as a Princess I don’t get much opportunity to sleep in anyway.}
{Oh no! So I woke you during one of your rare chances to sleep in?}
>{No! Well, kinda…}
{I’m so sorry Twilight. we can talk later if you’d like?}
>{If you’re in such dire straits now I think it’s more important for me to help you then to get a little extra shut-eye.}
{Thank you, Twilight.}
>{So what’s the problem?}
>6:18am
{Twilight, what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done to someone else?}
>…
>6:25am
>{Are you okay Sunset? You know that everypony forgives you for what you did in the past, right?}
{So you’ve never hurt anyone bad enough to mention?}
>…
>6:32am
>{I had this friend when I was a filly, she and I were practically inseparable. We even had the same mane style we were so close.}
{And?}
>{I didn’t go to her birthday party.}
>…
{And?}
>{That’s it, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever done to somepony.}
>…
>6:38am
{That must have been a really important party.}
>Or you’re just that bad of a person compared to everyone else.
>{Oh it was, she was devastated that I didn’t come. She was so hurt she completely shut herself up from others and refused let her guard down and allow friends to help her.}
>That… sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
{All because you didn’t show up to her party?}
>{You’d be surprised how easily you can hurt the ponies who are closest to you.}

{Did she resent you specifically for it?}
>{I believe she did, yes, but she was really more cold and distant then actively angry about it.}
{Did she ever forgive you?}
>{Yes. It wasn’t easy though. She was so stubborn about letting anypony in that she wouldn’t even give me a chance to make it up to her. She just decided she wanted to be left alone and do nothing but study.}
{But how could you know that she even wanted your help? If someone just wants to be left alone then shouldn’t you respect that?}
>{It’s more complicated than that Sunset. It’s rare to find a pony, person or otherwise who is content to be *completely* alone. Sometimes, the person who needs your help the most is also the person most unwilling to accept it, especially if it’s you who hurt them in the first place.}
>You sit there in the morning sun for a time, quill pen hovering expectantly above the page, trying to find the right words, something that doesn’t just sound like an excuse.
>Eventually you give up and answer honestly, and hope instead that she can understand that intentions are well meant.
{How though, how can you be sure that someone needs your help?}
>{Unfortunately there are no rules or books that can tell you when someone really needs you, it’s something you’ll need to find out by yourself.}
{But what if they’ve hurt you as well? What if they keep hurting you, no matter how many times you try to make it right with them? What if they take advantage of the fact that you feel guilty and use it against you?}
>You scribble down your thoughts in quick succession, not giving Twilight a moment to reply until you’ve finished.
>You immediately regret asking so many questions at once.
>You must sound like a child, desperate for an answer to a question this is, by all rights, yours to solve, not hers.
>You wait anxiously in the morning light.
>The words appear.
>{Sunset, what’s going on?}


>The page glistens with light as the sun crawls further towards the sky.
>Your hands are ready to continue the dialog, but you become aware of the time.
>7:05am
>You were meant to start getting ready an hour ago.
>It was time to go, despite how much you wanted to keep talking with Twilight.
{Sorry Twilight, I can’t talk anymore right now, but it was wonderful to speak to you again. I’m sorry it had to be such a depressing topic.}
>You don’t have time to wait for a reply.
>You have like, 20 minutes at most.
>Time to go -
>Out of bed.
>Shower.
>Dry off in the freezing cold.
>Incredibly freezing cold.
>You start getting clothes on despite your body not being completely dry yet to get some protection against the artic wasteland you currently call a house.
>You get to about being half-way dressed when the book starts to glow again.
>Despite how much you dread being both scolded by both Rarity for not being dressed properly when she arrives and Cheerilee for being late, you can’t help but read Twilight’s message anyway.
>{Sunset, please, just tell me the whole story. I won’t blame you, you’re my friend. Friends forgive each other.}
>You stare at those words for a long time.
“Friends forgive each other…”
>You’re there so long that water starts to drip off your hair and onto the page.
>It suddenly occurs to you that you have no idea whether those would also be transported to Equestria.
>Or if water could somehow short out the connection.
>Probably not, but at the same time-
>You hear a car pull up.
>7:40am
>Time to go.
>You wish you could speak to Twilight longer.
>But you need to keep to your own world right now.
>You squirm into your boots over the sound of Pinkie and Rarity discussing something as they approach the door.
>Their knock covers the sound of you tripping over as you race for the door, grabbing your jacket along the way.


>You run your hand through your hair as a makeshift brush, trying to make yourself look like you didn’t just hop out of the shower twenty minutes ago.
>You open the door and nonchalantly swing your jacket over your shoulder.
“Hey girls.”
>”Hey Sunset! Wow, you look really frazzled, like you just hopped out of the shower twenty minutes ago or something.”
>Why do you even try?
>It’s like Pinkie can read your mind sometimes.
>”Pinkie, please. You look wonderful darling don’t worry.”
>You’re surprised Rarity is being the mediator here.
>”Although you might want to touch up that hair a bit before we go out.”
>Well so much for that.
>”Come on girls, let’s get going or we’ll be late again!”
>Twilight is waiting anxiously at the car for the group to return and continue on their journey.
>Fluttershy is also there, but much more relaxed.
>You share Twilight’s anxiety in this situation.
“Come on girls, we don’t want to be yelled at by Cheerilee again now do we?
>Maybe if you think more positively more positive things will happen, at least it doesn’t look THAT cold out there.
>You step out the door.
>Yeah, no. It’s like one hundred times worse than it is inside.
 >and wrestle on your jacket in order to try and cover your mostly damp body from the cold while you crunch along the frost-bitten grass.
>”You sure you don’t want to borrow my brush just to touch it up a little bit?”
“It’s fine Rarity, I don’t think anybody will really notice.”
>Rarity blows a raspberry and angrily pouts as you get into the back seat next to Twilight.
>Pinkie places herself into Rarity’s vision and smiles expectantly.
>Rarity glares at her and slaps her hand across her face
>”No, we cannot stop for ice cream Pinkie.”
>Pinkie’s smile disappears and she makes a puppy-dog face, however Rarity seems to remain unconvinced.
>You guess that this is what that discussion you overheard was about.
>”Hey Sunset, how are you holding up?”

“I’m holding up fine Twilight.”
>You try to reassure her with a smile.
>She doesn’t look very reassured.
>Are you too horrible of a person to smile properly now as well?
>No, that’s ridiculous.
>Is it?
>Maybe you’re turning into a demon right now and you don’t even know it.
>No that’s crazy.
>…is it?
>No it’s not see, she’s even more horrified by you now!
>”Sunset? Are you alright?”
>”Oh dear.”
>You realize that your hands are shaking.
“It’s… it was a rough night, sorry.”
>Twilight and Fluttershy exchanged glances.
>”What happened?”
“Just a bad dream.”
>Twilight and Fluttershy keep staring at you expectantly.
>You clear your throat
“A… really bad dream.”
>Fluttershy opens her mouth to speak, probably to pry further, but Twilight changes the subject.
>”Did you get my text? I sent it kinda late.”
>It wasn’t that late was it? You only noticed it in the morning but it wasn’t sent then.
>You have no idea when you even got to sleep last night.
>You could be operating on less than five hours sleep right now for all you know.
>Maybe that’s why you can’t smile to reassure people.
>Not that you’re a horrible person.
>Oh god they’re still looking at you and you haven’t started talking yet.
“Yeah I did… and I agree, I need to give Anon a break, and we should try to make friends with him.”

>Fluttershy claps her hands together.
>”Wonderful!”
>Twilight smiles, or at least tries to.
>It doesn’t look very convincing.
>Did you say something wrong?
>”I’m proud of you Sunset, whatever Anon did is nothing compared how lonely he must be feeling now.”
>Yes.
>Nothing.
>He did absolutely nothing wrong and now he’ll totally accept your friendship without any qualms at all.
>He’ll stop tormenting you and making you feel guilty and getting your friends suspended.
>Twilight is still looking at you.
>So is Fluttershy
>You nod agreement to Fluttershy, which seems to satisfy her.
>At least you can still nod correctly
>Rarity and Pinkie enter the car.
>Pinkie is still trying and garner sympathy, for which Rarity seems quite content to ignore.
>She adjusts the rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of your face.
>You swear you see her eye twitch.
>Are you smiling again?
>Rariry reaches into her bag and brings out a hair brush
>Oh…. Right
>She leans over and hands it to you with a stern look on her face.
>”We’re not moving this vehicle unless you at least try to look presentable.”
>You roll your eyes and comply while Pinkie and Fluttershy giggle.
>”You should just wear your hair like me”
>Twilight points both fingers towards her hair bun.
“I think I’ll pass.”
>This time your smile seems to get the appropriate reaction as Twilight returns a playful smirk.
>Eventually Rarity seems satisfied with your self-grooming, turning back to the windshield and starting the long-awaited trip.
>As you depart you see golden light escape your window, signally that the book has once again received a message.
>You hope it isn’t about a drop of water mysteriously appearing on the page.

>The ride to the bus site is filled with a whole lot of you being schizophrenic about how you look, Pinkie constantly asking to stop for ice cream and Twilight insisting that you’re a bad person with her eyes.
>Okay that’s probably not what she’s doing but it really feels like it.
>You’re not sure what Pinkie’s obsession with stopping for ice cream is, especially considering the whether, but it apparently has something to do with always getting ice cream on road trips.
>It’s hardly a road-trip… you’re just going to school essentially, It just takes a little longer.
>The bus site was at Crystal Prep since it was a joint excursion.
>It surprises you that Celestia let Cinch give her the short end of the stick in that regard by not hosting the transport at Canterlot.
>In fact wouldn’t it have been pretty easy just to stop at both?
>Celestia had Cinch wrapped around her finger after the Friendship Games
>Maybe it was some arrangement where Crystal Prep paid but they got the better location.
>Figures that Celestia would go for the cheaper option at the expensive of her students.
>You didn’t think that.
>You think that there’s probably a reasonable explanation for it and that you’re not well versed in buses so you probably don’t know.
>You thought that instead.
>You’re not a bad person.
>Despite the fact that Rarity was adamant about not stopping for Ice Cream, you end up arriving ’Fashionably Late’.
>You’re not sure how she managed to do it, you set out right on time. Guess she somehow took some unnecessary detours without any of you noticing.
>And none of those detours were for ice cream.

>Crystal Prep is about how you expected it.
>Rigid, regulated, full of students staring at you.
>Most students are already in class, but the few still roaming the grounds are eyeing you as they go past.
>It was like they somehow know you’re Canterlot High students, but far more likely they’re just interested in seeing other kids on the grounds.
>Whatever the reason, it isn’t very hard to ignore as you all march towards the already-boarded bus.
>Cheerilee is waiting outside, tapping her foot.
>Well you successfully got scolded by both Rarity and now you’re going to get scolded by Cheerilee. Fun.
“Is this late enough for you Rarity?”
>She rubs the back of her head.
>”So maybe we could have arrived earlier, but it’s not like we missed it completely.”
>Rarity shrugs as she is talking.
>You expected Twilight to be in dire straits over being late for the excursion, but she seems un-phased by it.
>She seems more interested in talking to you while you all stride towards the bus.
>”Sunset, what was your dream last night about?”
>You really thought you’d get away with not telling anyone, didn’t you?
>The other girls are ahead, engaged in their conversation and out of earshot.
>Did Twilight really wait until a moment like this to ask you that?
>And here you were thinking she didn’t have much tact.
“It’s…. personal, and a very long story. It’s really not the best time to talk about it.”
>”It was about Anon, wasn’t it?”
>Oh crap.
>Your eyes betray you as they go blank in surprise.
>Are you that bad at hiding things from people?
>Twilight’s gaze seems to cut through you as you scramble for things to divert the subject. But nothing comes.
>Begrudgingly, you lower your gaze and nod.
>”Well, look who’s decided to show up.”
>Ms. Cheerilee’s sharp tone rescues you from the situation.
>”You’re all lucky we didn’t just up and leave without you.”

>Twilight practically sprints up to Cheerilee.
>”We’re so sorry Ms. Cheerilee, it won’t happen again, we promise.”
>In the face of academic authority Twilight adopts the typical prudish approach you expected from her in this situation.
>”I believe that coming from you Twilight, however I suspect you weren’t the one responsible for this particular occurrence of tardy behaviour.”
>She looks at Rarity.
>Rarity responds with a nervous smile
>”Ah, sorry. My mistake.”
>Cheerilee raises an eyebrow
>”You sure you weren’t trying to be ‘fashionably late’ again?”
>Rarity swats her hand at the air dismissively
>”Don’t be silly, I’d never do that.”
>She enters the bus while Cheerilee continues to glare at her.
>Pinkie follows suit, leaning aside to whisper to Cheerilee before ducking into the bus.
>”She totally would.”
>Fluttershy waves nervously to Cheerilee on her own way in as well.
>Despite having rushed ahead of you, Twilight waits patiently for you to catch up as well.
>As you enter behind Twilight Cheerilee lightly puts her hand on your shoulder.
>”I am aware that you’ve been a model student for almost a year now Sunset, but I don’t want to see another incident like the one yesterday.”
>Wait does that mean that Anon is actually here after all or is that just in general?
>Are you that far back into your old ways that she’s suspecting you’ll just push around people at random?
>”It’s okay Sunset, you’re not in trouble, I’m just concerned for you.”
>Concerned?
>So you’re concerning people now because they’re worried you’ll do something horrible?
>…
>Calm down Sunset. Everything is fine.
>You smile and nod to Ms. Cheerilee as you move inside.
>Because you’re a good person and won’t get into any trouble.
>You’re not a bad person…

>You and Twilight enter the bus at practically the same time with Cheerilee close behind.
>The first thing you notice is that there are definitely more Crystal Prep students then Canterlot High students.
>Twilight was smart to come in her Crystal Prep outfit.
>It’s like Camouflage, even though most students here probably know that she transferred.
>There was a Crystal Prep teacher there as well, who shoots you a self-important glare.
>Probably expected a Canterlot High student to be tardy.
>You ignore him pretty easily, but Twilight hides under her hair as she passes him.
>Poor Twilight, she would never be late on her own volition.
>Probably not used to that look either.
>Or maybe she is, and it’s bringing up old memories that she’d rather not have to deal with.
>You can sympathise with that.
>Rarity, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie are already seated near the front.
>They’re in a group with Canterlot kids, which makes sense considering that Rarity and Pinkie are particularly popular with the class.
>They wave you and Twilight over.
>”Hey girls, all our friends from class saved seats for us, isn’t that great!”
>They didn’t do it very well…
“But here’s only one seat left?”
>Pinkie laughs nervously
>”Well about that, It turns out the bus is pretty much completely full and they could only save four seats.”
“So one of us is just going to need to stand up?”
>”No silly, there’s another seat, it’s just not near us.”
>Where is it then?
>Your eyes scan over the bus.
>You see that most of the Canterlot students are sticking to the left side of the bus along with Pinkie, Rarity and Fluttershy.
>And not a seat in sight, except for one.
>Right at the back.
>Next to Anon.

>So you’ll have to sit next to Anon.
>No big deal.
>It’s just a two hour bus ride.
>Unless one of the other girls wants to sit next to him.
“The only seat left is at the back…”
>”I’m sorry Sunset, I suppose we really should have arrived earlier.”
>Fluttershy puts her hand on Rarity’s shoulder.
>”It’s okay Rarity. Sunset, I can sit next to Anon if you really want.”
>You rub the back of your head.
>Well that’s an easy solution.
>But still…
“No, it’s fine Fluttershy, I don’t mind.”
>You mind immensely.
>But you also remember what you spoke to Twilight about.
>”Sunset?”
>Both Twilights.
“I meant what I said in the text Twilight. Besides you should get to know the class more, you barely talk to anyone outside of the group.”
>You give her the most genuine smile you can muster and continue down to the back of the bus.
>You don’t manage to walk more than two steps before a hand clasps around your arm.
>It interrupts your internal screaming.
>”Yo Sunset.”
>Flash Sentry?
>How did you forget that he’s on the bus?
>Despite how loud and obnoxious he is, you always seem to forget about him.
>”Did you think about what I said yesterday?”
>Yesterday?
>About Princess Twilight?
>You only remember because he’s asked so many times.
“I’ve already told you a hundred times Flash. She’s gone.”
>Flash’s expression doesn’t change at all.
>”Yeah but, y’know, she’ll come back for me.”
>Does he actually believe that?
>She probably has no attraction to him while she’s a pony, she has a life there and she’s not going to give it up for some guitar-playing teenage fantasy.
>Ponies don’t get attracted to humans.
>…
>Well maybe sometimes…
“Flash, she’s not going to come back just because you asked her to.”
>He continues to grin, showing the maximum amount of teeth possible.
>”You don’t know that bruh, believe me, nobody can say no to Flash.”
>You groan internally every time he uses the word “bruh”
“Really? Because I just did.”
>You try to tug your arm free of his grasp.
>But he doesn’t let go

>”I mean it bruh.”
>He squeezes harder, causing pain to shoot up your arm.
“Ow.”
>”Just talk to Twilight for me, that’s all I’m asking.”
>This time you violently snatch your arm out of his grasp, getting you free but failing to elicit an inch of recoil from him.
>His hand is still in the same position as when he grabbed you.
>”Calm down Sunset, I was just playing with ya.”
>He mimics the motion of clasping your arm a few times, which is both playful and menacing at the same time.
>”I know you won’t let me down.”
>He gives you a remarkably genuine smile, before going back to his conversation.
>On some level you can sympathise with the guy wanting to be with someone he can’t.
>But at the same time, boy does he irk you.
>He basically demanded that a princess of Equestria come and see him.
>And he expects her to come?
>How self-absorbed can you get.
>… Was that too mean?
>Oh screw it, he deserves it.
>Sitting second row from the back are Featherweight and Sugarcoat.
>They don’t know each other as far as you’re informed, but it’s unsurprising that Featherweight is basically sitting on his own. Most of his friends are in different classrooms.
>You assume Sugarcoat is the same, considering that the both of them are preoccupied with their portable devices.
>Sugarcoat’s looks like a tablet of some description, Featherweight is playing on a Nintendo DS.
>You personally aren’t very interested in them but Twilight has mentioned them extensively.
>Anon is sitting behind them, also fidgeting with a device.
>It looks like a touch phone, but you can’t recognise the brand.
>Not that you’re knowledgeable about these things.
>If Anon notices you approaching, he doesn’t show it.
>He just continues to tap at his phone.
>He’s either extremely absorbed in what he’s doing, or extremely determined to completely ignore you.
>You’re pretty sure you know which one it is.
>But you’re not going to assume that, because that’s what a suspicious and spiteful person would do.
>And you’re not that person at all.

>As you sit down you notice Anon shift his weight against the wall, putting as much distance between you and him as possible.
>With most people, you’d assume he’s trying to be polite, not inferring that he wants to be as far away from you as possible, but this is Anon.
>Wait, didn’t you just tell yourself you’re not suspicious or spiteful?
>The bus is quiet for a moment while the Crystal Prep teacher goes over the roll call.
>Anon doesn’t even answer when his name was called.
>You have to do it for him.
>It’s like he’s pretending not to exist.
>He’s pretty good at it really.
>He’s probably had a lot of practice…
>The Crystal Prep teacher seems displeased that Anon doesn’t answer for his name, but begrudgingly accepts it once Cheerilee whispers something to him.
>He raises an eyebrow to whatever she tells him, but tells the bus driver to get moving regardless.
>The bus starts to move and conversation slowly begins to reconstitute itself among the students.
>Everywhere except your little corner.
>The three keep to their respective devices.
>The selective silence drags on for a long time, with the rest of the bus buzzing around you.
>You try to retreat to your own phone, only to be faced with the messages from Twilight.
>It feels like not saying anything would be letting her down, but if you do speak you feel like you’d be breaking some sort of unwritten rule. So you let the silence drag on further.
>Despite the huge amount of room Anon’s compact stance gave you, you are sitting on the edge of your seat.
>You start to feel drowsy. Perhaps you really didn’t get any sleep last night.
>Maybe it would be best to catch up on some sleep before you try to crack this social bombshell.
>You lean back in your chair and close your eyes
>”So did your friends choose you to sit down here or did you volunteer?”
>Almost immediately, you are disturbed by an abrasive and straight-forward voice.
>It sounds like exactly the kind of loaded question Anon would ask.
>Except it was Sugarcoat saying it.
>”The latter would be less surprising but the former is a possibility considering that time you became a she-demon.”
>Okay that sounds exactly like something Anon would say.
>How does she even know about that anyway?

“You’re making it sound like I’ve been put in some kind of prison.”
>”Maybe not, but judging by how uncomfortable you are, you probably didn’t come here willingly. ”
>Well she’s not wrong.
>Doesn’t mean you want to hear it.
>”I’d suggest just standing up and talking with your friends up front, but Mr. MacRoonie would most likely go crazy and yell at you to sit down.”
>You assume she’s talking about the Crystal Prep teacher.
“Really? Why does he even care?”
>”Because he’s unhappy and insecure with his life that manifests in a need to assert his dominance over his students.”
>Holy.
>At least Sugarcoat is brutal to everybody, not just you.
>”Anyway it’s going to be a very boring bus ride for you, unless you can somehow get these two away from their empathy machines.”
>Anon continues to not respond.
>Featherweight however,
>”Aw c’mon, I’m hunting a Rathian.”
>Well when you put it that way…
>”It’s just a game, you can just continue it later. If you let a game control you like that, it’s really pathetic.”
>You know from experience with Twilight that that is the absolute worst thing she could have said.
>Maybe she knows it as well.
>Featherweight glares intensely at Sugarcoat for a few seconds, before going back to hunting.
>Sugarcoat narrows her eyes at him.
>”So I get the cold shoulder for trying to help you socialize?”
>Featherweight continues to ignore her.
>Sugarcoat narrows her eyes even more and crosses her arms.
>”Fine block out everyone. Not like you have any friends anyway.”
>Woah.
>What’s with this girl?
>How does she even know that?
>Maybe she’s really just that oblivious that she thinks she’s not hurting someone saying that.
“What’s your problem Sugarcoat, it’s not like he’s bothering anyone.”
>She glares at you now instead.
>”I’m just telling it like it is. If you blame me for that you’re just being overly sensitive.”

“Telling it like it is doesn’t give you a free pass to be a jerk to people.”
>”It’s not being a jerk if I’m right.”
>You’d be right if you told her that her voice sounds like someone scratching a blackboard.
>But that doesn’t mean you can just go and say it without consequences.
>You’re still not sure if she’s completely oblivious or a douche.
>It’s possible she’s just an oblivious douche.
“Sure, whatever you say Sugarcoat. I’ll bet heaps of people love to hang out with someone who does nothing but sit there and list their faults.”
>She somehow narrows her eyes even further before turning her nose up and away from you.
>”Fine, go ahead and hang out with a bunch of phonies who do nothing but whisper fake compliments to each other than talk behind one another’s back.”
>Your friends don’t talk behind your back do they?
>No, you know them better than that.
>You open your mouth to retort, but close it again
>You’re not playing her game anymore.
>You lean back into your chair and look out the window, content to ignore the conversation as well.
>The four of you sit in silence again for about five minutes as you watch the world outside speed past.
>”F.Y.I, people at CP know about you, Sunset.”
>You continue to ignore her, focusing on the urban mystique of Crystal Heights as it passes by.
>”You don’t be the biggest bully in a school for three years without people hearing stories about you. We have some CHS transfer kids.”
>You’ve heard people say that Crystal Heights is a much more “progressive” district then Canterlot. Guess they must be talking about the whole foods markets.
>”And then all of a sudden you’re trying to be nice to everyone. It seems really fake honestly, nobody just heel-turns like that.”

>The urban city outside gradually dissipates as you enter its rural outskirts.
>”If you think people will just forget about you being a grade-A bitch then you’re wrong.”
>Okay, that’s it.
>You snap your head towards her to see she’s not even looking at you
>If Sugarcoat wants to play nasty, you’ll play nasty too.
>But before you can speak,
>”Would you close that incessant flap you call a mouth please?”
>Anon speaks for you.
>Sugarcoat whips around to look at Anon.
>She stares at him, eyes scanning him up and down.
>”So the first thing you do in ten minutes is tell someone else to shut up? That’s really antisocial. You must not have many friends.”
>Sugarcoat crosses her arms. Even though her lips don’t move an inch, you feel like she’s trying to hide a triumphant smirk.
>Anon continues to fiddle with his phone. Making no effort to actually look Sugarcoat in the face.
>”What great perception you have. People must love that you point out obvious crap all the time.”
>”It’s much better than not saying anything.”
>This time you see the edge of Sugarcoat’s mouth twitch as she represses a smile.
>”To the contrary, I’d much prefer silence for the rest of my life then continue to listen to more of your outstanding observations.”
>Sugarcoat’s eyes narrow as she tries to intimidate Anon into submission.
>”Your eyes aren’t as intimidating as you think they are, they just draw attention to the fact that you have nothing interesting to say.”
>Sugarcoat raises an eyebrow, perplexed, and possibly rattled.
>Probably because her go-to body language has been compromised.
>”D-don’t talk to me like that, you don’t know anything about me. You’re just pulling stuff out of nowhere to make me feel bad.”
>”And you weren’t doing the same, right?”
>You spy that Featherweight has taken an earphone out.
>Apparently this argument to far too heated for anyone to miss.
>”Of course not, I’m just telling people exactly what I see. You’re just mad because you’re too sensitive to handle it.”
>Anon doesn’t answer.
>”It’s sad that you see criticism as an attack, you’ve probably been pampered by people for most of your life, haven’t you?”
>Anon’s eyes snap away from his phone and meet with hrs at her.


>You feel like the spectator to a gun fight in some spaghetti western flick.
>Both sides eye each other down endlessly, daring each other to make the next move, waiting patiently for the other side to slip up so they can take them down.
>”If that is “exactly what you see”, then perhaps you should get your glasses checked. Or perhaps it’s just your idiotic sense of judgement that is broken.”
>Sugarcoat snorts.
>”Petty insults, really? Continuing to act like this just makes you look desperate.”
>”It’s not petty if it’s right. Remember?”
>Last time you were in this situation someone got suspended.
“Both of you should-“
>”Right? I’d be right if I told you that your skin is so pasty I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve never been in natural light until now, but now that would be petty, wouldn’t it? ”
>You weren’t going to be a bystander this time, you were going to put a stop to it before it went too far.
“That’s enough Sugarcoat!”
>She glares at you and prepares to speak, before being interrupted by Featherweight.
>”Yeah, knock it off, you are making this so much harder than it needs to be.”
>He gestures to his game as he’s playing, not mentioning that he took out his earphone in the first place.
>Regardess, Sugarcoat ignores him and focuses on you.
>”Why are you defending him, it’s very clear he’s in the wrong.”
“Who cares who’s in the wrong? Stop bullying people for no reason.”
>Sugarcoat looks at Anon then back to you, sneering as she does so.
>”Bullying? You’d know all about that wouldn’t you, Shimmer? All I’ve done is talk straight, but you? It’s not surprising that you want everyone to forget who’s in the wrong considering you’ve done nothing but push people around to make yourself feel better since you’ve been at CHS. Now you’re just trying to get power by being nice instead.”
>You feel a shiver run down your spine as she reveals more and more about who you are. Why does she know so much about you?
“I’m not like that anymore, I’ve changed.”
>”Changed? If you’ve changed it isn’t into something very good. Aren’t you here because your friends ditched you?”
“I-“
>Your words are lost somewhere before you can speak them
>This hasn’t worked out like you had planned.

>What does Sugarcoat have against you all of a sudden?
>”Everyone would probably ditch you if they could, nobody’s going to just forget about everything you did. Your so-called friends are just trying to stay on your good side.”
>Why can’t you say anything?
>She’s wrong, isn’t she?
>”Who could ever really be friends with someone like you anyway?”
>There’s a momentary pause.
>Sugarcoat seems satisfied with her statement, and you’re at a loss of what to say next.
>She looks ready to talk you down again, but her attention is diverted to Anon as he slips his phone into his pocket and groans.
>”You quite enjoy talking about other people don’t you?”
>Sugarcoat turns her attention to Anon again.
>”Enjoyment isn’t the point, the point is being straight with people and telling them the hard truth.”
>”Truth? What would you know about truth? You are only, you CAN only speak on what it is that you observe. And what you have observed so far has big the biggest load of nonsense I have ever heard from someone who is so adamant in what it is that they are saying.”
>”You think I’m lying? This is even more desperate then before.”
>”No-no, I think your tiny little head believes everything you’re saying and that your concept of truth is far removed from what actual truth is.”
>Sugarcoat raises her eyebrows.
>”Do you have a point or are you really just going to lecture me on philosophy?
>Anon clasped his hands together into a ball.
>”This is not philosophy, it’s a basic understanding of bias that is required for any and all forms of critical thinking, but yes, I do have a point. My point is, that if you so enjoy judgements made from skewed observations about people, then you might like to hear some of the observations I have made about you.”
>You feel a sense of deja-vu wash over you.
>You should stop this, but you know you can’t. You have no more words left.
>The only thing left to find out is who has the loaded gun, and who digs.

>Sugarcoat huffs indignantly.
>”If your observations are anything like your insults then no, I would not like to hear them.”
>Anon rests his nose onto his hands.
>”Such a shame you can’t handle when someone wants to be straight with you.”
>Sugarcoat’s eyes dart between you, Anon and Featherweight, who had detached himself from his game, assumedly because the conversation finally became more interesting.
>Anon stares Sugarcoat down as she looks for a way out.
>”What? I’m not afraid of being told things straight, you’re the one who’s been unable to handle it. Everything I’ve said so far has been one hundred percent true.”
>”You’re right, everything you’ve said has been uncannily true actually. Not in a literal sense, but in a sense that you have an uncomfortable amount of knowledge about Sunset and therefore can make assertions about things you should really not know about.”
>That’s… a good point.
>Why does a CP girl know so much about CHS?
>”So? When someone becomes as infamous as Sunset is, it’s hard NOT to hear about her.”
>”You don’t have to lecture me on Sunset’s reputation, believe me, I am very aware.”
>Anon briefly glares at you from the corner of his eyes.
>”But CP has NEVER cared about CHS gossip, not once. Nobody at the Friendship Games knew, or even cared about Sunset. Why do you care now?”
>Sugarcoat shrugs.
>”Is it so strange that I keep an ear out for these thing-“
>”Not just an ear, you must have fanatically investigated to discover such things. You know all about the Fall Formal, even though that was meant to be kept under wraps to protect Sunset Shimmer. Why do you care to know somebody you may never even speak with?”
>Anon adjusts his glasses
>”Or maybe it’s precisely because you know you’re going to see this person on a school trip that you opted to lean so much about her.”

>Sugarcoat looks around like a deer caught in the headlights.
>Anon has unveiled the smoking gun, and she has nowhere to run now.
>”So what, you think I have a thing for Sunset? That’s desperate, even coming from you.”
>Anon shrugs.
>”Possibly, but not necessarily. If you want to know what I think then I believe it’s far more likely that you have a thing for being able to be ‘right’ all the time.”
>Sugarcoat opens her mouth but Anon speaks first
>”How long would it take you to find out about Sunset? It would probably require you to come to CHS, probably without being noticed as a CP kid. What a hassle all of that would be, right? And all so you could get weapons in order to take some measly shots at her on this trip. Because you function by putting other people down and hiding behind your pitiful ideological barrier of ‘giving it straight’.”
>If Sugarcoat has something to say, she doesn’t look like it.
>Her eyes are no longer narrow.
>”Now forgive me, because I don’t have all the answers. But from what I can tell. You’re a pathetic little person who spends her time cataloguing the problems of others to make herself seem respectable by comparison, to make others respect you solely out of fear. After all who’s going to be brave enough to challenge someone so ready to bring up your faults?”
>Sugarcoat’s eyes start quivering as he speaks.
>You put your hand over your mouth
>You know you should stop this, or at least try to stop this, but you can’t.
>It’s intoxicating, it feeds that part of yourself you hate so much.
>Like watching a train crash, or a traffic accident.
>It’s horrifying, but you can’t look away.
>Because deep inside you there’s a monster that can’t get enough of watching her squirm after what she said to you.

>Sugarcoat finally speaks up
>”I – I. You’re just making things up again, it’s really sad-“
>”Yes, it is sad. It’s sad that you’re over here with us, the friend-less bunch. Where are your friends anyway? You were talking down on us before for not being with our friends, weren’t you?”
>Sugarcoat’s lips start quivering. Her gun is empty.
>”I – I have friends-“
>”I’m sure you do, because everyone must love you picking them apart right? Your personal attacks are so endearing and entertaining. Just look at all the baying masses on his bus so eager for your approval.”
>Sugarcoat doesn’t answer.
>”It’s almost like no one was left in CP who would talk to you, so you had to find someone in CHS to pick on.”
>You’ve been in Sugarcoat’s position over and over again, she’s even put you in that position. She’s suffering for it now.
>You can be complacent, or you can try to stop this right now
>But how can you? Anon takes everything you say and twists it. Just like how Sugarcoat is twisting and turning right now.
>Unsure of what to do, lost at what to say. Out in the open after being out-talked by Anon.
>”But that’s not true is it? I’d be lying if I said that, just like you’re lying every time you pretend like you’re not a pathetic, shrill gospel who wastes her time learning as much as she can about others, not to help them or be nice to them, but so that she can put them down in the most accurate way possible.”
>Sugarcoat rests her nose on the back of her seat, cowering down in defeat.
>”The truth is, nobody could ever care for someone like you. That’s why you care so much about the faults of others. Because you can’t stand your own.”
>Sugarcoat slinks down further, completely disappearing behind her chair.
>Anon scoffs
>”You know, it really is sad that you can’t handle legitimate criticism.”
>The metaphorical smoking gun is no longer the evidence he holds against Sugarcoat, it is the smouldering weapon Anon holds in his hand.
>The train has crashed, the struggle is over.
>Even though Sugarcoat hides herself away behind the chair, you can see right through her.
>You can feel her anxiety, her insecurity, her humiliation, and you feel guilt, guilt for not stopping this earlier.
“Anon, that’s enough okay.”
>He glares at you
“I’m mad at her as well but…”

>”Don’t bother Sunset.”
>Featherweight weighs into the conversation, inciting Anon to focus the glare on him instead.
>Featherweight throws up his hands in mock alarm.
>”Scary.”
>”Haven’t you got some game to waste your life on?”
>Featherweight shrugs
>”Taking a break from it, feel like wasting my life on this conversation instead.”
>Anon leans back into his seat.
>He almost seems more relaxed then irritated.
>”Better than wasting it on those kindergarten experiments you get up to in your ‘science’ club”
>Scratch that. Plenty hostile.
>Featherweight sighs.
>”Give us a break, not everybody has their own private room with all the best equipment.”
>”No, they don’t, because unlike you, I use my equipment for things more advanced then coke and mentos ‘experiments’”
>Featherweight rolls his eyes
>”How would you even know if that’s what we do? You never even gave the club a chance.”
>”Because I know it’s a waste of time, just like any conversation I have with you.”
>The relaxation is gone. Back to the normal levels of hostility.
>Featherweight shakes his head and begrudgingly turns back around.
>”I don’t know why I bother, I thought maybe you were on my side after putting down Sugarcoat like that.”
>Sugarcoat doesn’t add anything, she just sits there, trying not to cry.
>Slowly, the adrenaline dissipates, and you return to the uncomfortable ambience of the bus. The only sound managing to overpower the ambience being Sugarcoat’s quiet sobs that painfully grate on your conscience.
>Anon returns to his original position, vigilantly occupied with his phone.
>He’s really not troubled by this at all?
>God damn it if you’re going to feel guilty in all this he is too.
“Anon-“
>His response is immediate and stoic
>”Shut it.”

>He’s crazy if he thinks you’re going to be scared off by that.
”Really?”
>”Really.”
“You’re going to just-“
>”I’m going to just sit here and let her cry, despite how much it upsets you, Mother Theresa. Not like she’d do any better in my position.”
>That comparison is as half-assed as it is inaccurate
“Mother Theresa? Really? Just because I don’t want to watch someone cry?”
>Anon raises his index finger.
>”’Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones’, or something of that nature. I shall not burden thyself with remorse for the wicked.”
>His hand sifts the air dismissively as he finishes speaking.
>That first one isn’t even a religious quote.
>You’re pretty sure nothing he just said was.
>He’s really trying to make this Mother Theresa thing work, isn’t he?
“What ever happened to ‘an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind’?”
>Anon limply shuffles his head to look at you.
>”Blind?”
>He languidly taps the edge of his glasses with his index finger.
>”Well I won’t need to worry about that then, will I?”
>Then something happens that catches even Anon by surprise.
>You chuckle.
>Well, you sort of snort more than anything really.
>Enough that it breaks your stoic stare with an inopportune smile.
>Something about how strange and unexpected his answer was.
>Especially coming from Anon, of all people.
>Not hostile.
>Not passive aggressive.
>Just a cute little moment that caught you off-guard.
>That reminded you of what he used to be like.
>It didn’t last long though, and probably won’t happen again if the way he’s glaring at you is anything to go by.

>Anon adjusts his glasses.
>Here we go again…
>”What are you laughing about? You really find my inability to see without assistance amusing?
>You slump back into your seat.
>Why does he have to make everything hard?
>”Unless you were laughing at the Theresa comparison. It is quite the joke to think you have a kind bone in your body.”
>You roll your eyes.
>He’s loading the gun again.
>You’re not going to let him into your head anymore, you’re not a bad person.
>”After all you didn’t decide to pitch in until she was basically already a sobbing mess, you sat there and enjoyed watching her squirm, didn’t you?”
>No, no you didn’t enjoy it.
>Not even after what she did to you.
>…
>Maybe she did deserve it, but It’s not your place, or Anon’s place to decide, So you don’t respond, despite him still glaring at you.
>”You really don’t have an answer, do you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
>You lean over to Sugarcoat’s seat.
“Sugarcoat?”
>She doesn’t respond.
“Listen, I’m not going to act like we’re friends or that I wasn’t angry at you. I don’t know what your situation is but I feel like we got off on the wrong foot and I don’t want to just leave it like this.”
>She still doesn’t respond, but at least the sobbing has paused momentarily.
>Or at least died down a bit.
“I’m sorry Anon made you feel so bad, he shouldn’t have said those things to you, and you shouldn’t have said those things to him.”
>”Excuse me!?”
>You ignore Anon’s protest and continue talking.
“He’s wrong, you’re not pathetic, you just made a few mistakes and said some bad things. People could like you, they just need to get to know you first.”
>You reach out through her veil of sadness and put your hand on her shoulder.
“If you want to give friends a try, I’m here okay?”
>She continues not responding, but her sobbing has stopped completely.
>You step away from her despondency, hoping that she can find it in herself to heal.
>As you lay back into your seat you realize that Anon eyes are burning with rage.

>You haven’t seen Anon visibly angry like this in a long time.
>”You’re seriously apologizing to her? She wouldn’t apologize for a single thing she just blurted out of her mouth, not once.”
>What’s got him so riled up?
>As if he actually felt hurt by anything she said to him.
>He’s never lost his cool like this before, not in public.
>Not for a long time.
“Anon-“
>”QUIET!”
>You flinch back and almost fall off of your seat.
>”I bet you think you’re so god damn high and mighty now don’t you? You help the poor lost soul and now everyone thinks you’re some kind of saint!”
>He was no longer leaning nonchalantly onto the window, to the contrary, he was practically jumping out of his seat.
>”Oh wonderful, kind Sunset Shimmer. Making the just decisions that the rest of us could never have the courage to make.”
>You clutch the edges of the seat and shuffle back as far as you can as he gets louder and louder.
>”It’s BULLSHIT! I know who you are!”
>Anon looks ready to say more, but he notices that he has drawn the attention of practically the entire bus.
>He whips his head around to witness the crowd, his eyes widen at the sight of them and his breathing becomes rushed as confused mutters circulate around the crowd.
>All attention is directed at him.
>Is he okay?
>“EXCUUSE ME?”
>The Crystal Prep teacher, Mr. MacRoonie, demands the attention of the bus as he stomps over to your seats with menace only equal to that of a considerably tall rooster.
>You’re stunned into silence by the fact that he believes that strut demands respect.
>”I do not know what they teach you at Canterlot, but this is a Crystal Prep field trip and that language will not be tolerated!”
>Anon’s flustered state disappears as MacRoonie approaches, replaced with the same cold expression you’re used to seeing on him.
>”Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
>Anon says nothing.
>He just stares.


>The bus is dead quiet amidst the standoff.
>MacRoonie’s face slowly turns redder and redder as Anon continues to ignore his authority.
>You think you should step in, but you’re frozen with anticipation.
>Does Anon listen to anybody at all?
>You guess he’s used to getting away with it due to Canterlot’s special treatment.
>Considering that Cheerilee is scuttling over, He might get that treatment here as well.
>”Don’t test me boy, explain why you feel such language is necessary this instant!”
>Anon continues to glare at him.
>Nobody can see but you, but Anon’s hands are trembling.
>You’re not sure if he really is scared, or shaking with rage, ready to sock MacRoonie right in the mouth.
>You don’t think his special treatment would allow him to get away with that. You doubt he would anyway. Anon has never been violent.
>Even when he is directly threatened with violence.
>”ANSWER ME!”
>”MacRoonie, please!”
>Cheerilee grips MacRoonie by his sleeve and yanks him away.
>She does it surprisingly easily, it’s also surprisingly hilarious.
>Some students appear to agree with you.
>You hear a collections of snickers, giggles and a snort that could only belong to Pinkie Pie.
>”Cheeriliee!?”
>MacRoonie fights to get his balance back, but Cheerilee continues to drag him to the front of the bus.
>Holy crap Cheerilee is kind of a badass.
>She took him all the way to the front, with a chorus of chuckles following, before letting him go.
>Upon being freed MacRoonie stumbles for his balance, almost falling over completely if not for a seat he grabbed onto.
>He indignantly convulses back into his static straight-backed position and furiously brushes himself off.
>The entire motion looks completely ridiculous and incites yet more laughter from the bus.
>”QUIET, ALL OF YOU! Cheerilee, what is the meaning of thi-“
>”SHH!”
>Cheerilee puts her finger up in front of him, silencing him immediately like an obedient pet.

>Despite how ridiculous MacRoonie looked compared to Cheerillee, all of the CP students actually went immediately silent at his behest.
>They’re really afraid of him, huh?
>You’re amazed they can respect the man considering how comical he is.
>Cheerilee turns MacRoonie away from the bus and begins whispering.
>The conversation that commences involves a collection of hushed shouts from MacRoonie and fingers pointing towards Anon.
>Although all of it is audible somewhat, none of it is coherent enough above the rumbling of the bus to be understandable.
>You turn to see that Anon has already sat back down.
>Wonder if he enjoys all of the special treatment he gets from CHS.
>You’d imagine it’d be nice sometimes. Like watching MacRoonie get manhandled by Cheerilee for yelling at you.
>But you’d also imagine it would make it hard to fit in, not that he really tried to be social able otherwise.
>…
>That’s your fault remember?
>At least according to him.
>Eventually MacRoonie and Cheerilee reach some sort of understanding, and return to their seats.
>Cheerilee goes back to reading a book, MacRoonie however continues to glare in your direction.
>At Anon.
>Sugarcoat wasn’t kidding. Can he give Anon a break?
>Anon is still staring out the window.
>You can’t tell if it is more or less infuriating for MacRoonie that he’s being ignored
>”Anon”
>Featherweight turns around.
>”You are the craziest guy I have ever met.”
>”And you’re the most annoying.”
>Featherweight throws his arms up.
>”Can’t you just take a compliment?”
>”You just called me crazy.”
>Featherweight shrugs.
>”I meant in the good way.”
>Anon looks out the window, not paying Featherweight any attention.
>”Can’t you take a hint and waste someone else’s time?”

>Featherweight lets his arms go limp.
>”You know what Anon? Yeah, I’m gonna go stop wasting my time with you.”
>Featherweight turns back around and goes back to his handheld device.
>Anon glares at Featherweight, ready for another retort.
>”You think-“
>Anon is cut off when he sees Featherweight stuff earphones into his head.
>Anon pauses momentarily, then scoffs and turns back to the window.
>”Yep, just shut me out. You don’t want to listen to me.”
>The uncomfortable silence drags out for a long time.
>Well, it still feels like silence despite how loud the bus is.
>As the atmosphere calms down, you lay back into your seat and notice that your eyelids feel heavy.
>You suppose you got about as much sleep as you thought you did last night.
>Eventually Sugarcoat returns from her catatonic state and plugs in her own earphones. Apparently the two of them have had more than enough socializing for now.
>If you could even call what commenced socializing. A verbal boxing ring would be a better description.
>Still, there was a single, brief, tiny moment where he wasn’t hostile with you.
>Only mildly passive-aggressive.
>Before losing his mind and yelling at you for apologizing to someone.
>It still surprises you how much he gets away with.
>He yells at you for trying to be nice, and gets pampered by Cheerilee and encouragement from Featherweight in return.
>Wonder if anyone even cares that he yelled at you.
>Maybe they all really are against you, and only care about staying on your good side because they’re scared of you.
>Just like Sugarcoat said.
>You close your eyes and mull over your actions.
>Maybe you’re still just a self-centred bully underneath everything.
>Just like Anon said.
>But you made peace with Sugarcoat right?
>You did it because you don’t want to be the kind of person who leaves people like that anymore. Or did you just do it to spite Anon?
>No, that’s ridiculous.
>But you’d know that, right?

>Was that why he’s so angry?
>He thinks you were doing it to spite him?
>Maybe he’s going just as crazy as you are.
>Except when he acts crazy he gets complimented and when you act crazy your friends hate you for it.
>…
>It’s strange.
>Thinking about Anon and everything he’s gotten away with would usually just make you angry.
>But actually being here with him, you don’t feel mad at him at all.
>More than can be said about yesterday.
>What was wrong with you?
>You basically told Anon that he’d be better off as a vegetable.
>But it’s not like he’s totally innocent.
>He told you that everyone else would be better off if you were dead.
>That’s not the point though right?
>You’re the one who wants to prove that you’re better then all of that.
>You made things right with Sugarcoat.
>…
>Maybe that’s why he’s so angry at you.
>You’re not sure if you can ever make things completely right with Anon.
>But you can at least try and make up for yesterday.
>You promised you would try.
>Begrudgingly, you pull yourself from you seat and look to Anon, who is now looking out the window.
>What is going on in that head of his? You wish you knew.
>…
>Well, go on.
>Just say it.
>It’s easy.
>Even if he doesn’t forgive you, he’ll at least appreciate the effort right?
>He won’t throw your apology back into your face, or stomp on your efforts to make things right make you feel like a monster no matter what you do.
>…
“Anon?”
>He doesn’t react, unsurprisingly.
>Whatever, you expected this.
“I take back everything I said yesterday. It would be awful if you were still in hospital.”
>He still refuses to acknowledge you.
>Can’t he at least pretend to be listening to you?
”Please Anon, I just want to tell you.”
>The light from the world outside reflects off his glasses, obscuring his eyes completely.
“People don’t hate you, I don’t hate you. I never should have come into your room or said anything, I’m sorry.”
>As your falls upon deaf ears and evaporates, the uncomfortable silence returns.
>Nothing happens for a few moments, then he finally turns around and looks you directly in the eyes.
>”No you’re not.”

>He and you lock stares for a long time.
>You wait anxiously for him to say something else to berate you
>To punish you for ever trying to be anything other than a horrible person.
>But he doesn’t say anything.
>…
>He slowly turns around and looks back out the window.
>And that’s it.
>He doesn’t say anything else. He just gazes.
>You’re not sure what to do next.
>You tried.
>What else can you do?
>How about never hurting him in the first place?
>…
>Maybe you’ll never be able to make things right with him.
>At least for now it seems pretty pointless to try.
>You relax back into your seat, facing the front of the bus. Your eyelids dipping slightly as sleep clings to the edges of your vison
>MacRoonie is looking in your direction
>You suddenly feel a surge of anger as you realize he’s glaring at Anon.
>You’re not sure why exactly.
>Something about it rubs you the wrong way. He should just let it go and give Anon a break.
>There’s a reason Cheerilee wants Anon to be left alone.
>…
>Whatever, Anon could probably handle this guy on second thought.
>As sensitive as Anon seems sometimes, MacRoonie is clearly one-hundred times worse.
>As you relax you remember how tired you are.
>It would be nice to have a moment to rest after the last two days.
>Now probably isn’t the best time though.
>Anon might murder you in your sleep.
>He probably wouldn’t get away with that one.
>He’d try though, and it would be sort of impressive if he managed it.
>If he actually did get arrested you’d imagine he’d end up like some teenage version of Hannibal Lecter.
>[“I do wish we could chat longer, but I’m having an old friend for dinner.”]
>You chuckle to yourself at the thought. Anon would make a good movie villain.
>The world around you starts to get darker as your eyelids weigh down on your vision
>You didn’t want to sleep, remember?
>You still don’t, but it’s hard not to.
>Oh, who cares? Sleep now, deal with life later.
>You’ll probably still be alive when you get woken up in an hour.
>The cusps of your vision are consumed by shadow as you let your weary mind drift off to sleep.

>You’re here again.
>Watching a girl as she waits by the lockers.
>The school is practically empty as most students had already gone home.
>The hallways are tinted orange by the sunset as it shines through windows in shafts of light.
>Her hair is draped over her face as she looks at the object in her hands
>A deck of playing cards.
>It doesn’t belong to her.
>She occasionally looks over her shoulder to make sure she is alone.
>The silence gradually dissipates as footsteps approach.
>Each step radiates around the halls, echoing vociferously when compared to the silence of the empty school.
>The footsteps belong to another girl, who reveals herself from around the corner.
>Upon seeing the girl by her locker, she screeches to a halt.
>The first girl does not raise her head.
>Slowly and carefully, she approaches the locker that the girl is leaning on.
>Her locker.
>She draws nearer the same way the mouse might approach a scrap of food that had fallen precariously close to a sleeping predator.
>Without warning, the girl springs up from the locker and stands in her path.
>She shrieks backwards, putting her hands up in a vain attempt to shield herself.
>She stands frozen for a few moments, before realizing that no attack has been made.
>She cautiously lowers her hands, sceptical, but prepared to hear the girl out.
”Trixie.”
>You push your hair out of your face and hand her the deck.
”This is yours.”

>Trixie looks at the deck, then to you.
>She doesn’t take it.
“Snips and Snails took it.”
>She still just looks at it.
“Because I… because I told them to.”
>There’s no one else here.
>Please Trixie, just take it before anyone sees this.
>She narrows her eyes and scans you over.
>”Trixie does not understand, why are you returning her deck of cards?”
>You’re still not sure why she talks in third person.
“Because it’s yours.”
>”No I mean, you’ve never been nice to Trixie, or anyone for that matter, why are you being nice now?”
>Trixie crosses her arms
>”Trixie thinks this is some sort of trick.”
>Of course she thinks it’s a trick.
>It’s understandable, but also sort of adorable.
“Well, you’d probably know if it was, Miss Magician.
>Trixie raises an eyebrow.
“I take back what I said, card games aren’t stupid Trixie.”
>You fight back how uncomfortable you are and give Trixie a warm smile
“I’m sorry Trixie, please let me make it up to you.”
>Trixie scans over your face with her eyes.
>She sheepishly reaches for the deck.
>She lays hands on it, and cringes, as if expecting it to hurt her somehow.
>When nothing happens for a few seconds she returns your smile.
>You share this comfortable moment with her.
>A little victory, a step closer to repairing all the damage that you had done.
>You would say more, but a voice interrupts you.
>”You don’t want to do that.”
>Both of your heads whip to the side to see the source of the voice.
>He’s close, somehow he had approached the both of you without either noticing.
>”I wouldn’t accept a thing from her if I were you, much less an apology.”
>He walks up to the two of you and adjusts his glasses.

>Why is he here?
>He should not be here.
>Did he actually wait after school for you?
>”Trixie is even more confused now.”
>She let go of the cards.
>No…
>”I don’t blame you.”
>Anon is glaring right at you.
>It’s all he’s ever done when you’re around since you were let back into the school.
>”Aren’t you’re that science club kid who always hangs out with Sunset?”
>Anon looks Trixie dead in the eye as if she had just made an insufferable pun.
>”No. You’re wrong.”
>He’s here.
>Now.
>Anon.
>You’re frozen, you can’t possibly move a muscle.
>Every time you look at him he’s falling again, asking you why you destroyed everything you and him had.
>You can’t raise your voice against him, much less your arms.
>Trixie puts her hands up in mock defence.
>”Trixie does not know what’s going on between you two, but she is happy to just take her cards and leave.”
>Thank you Trixie.
>She reaches out again for the deck.
>To accept your apology.
>”Go ahead, I just thought you might have wanted to hear what she said about you first.”
>Trixie pauses with her fingers outstretched.
>No.
>Don’t ruin this. Can’t you just have this?
>Trixie looks to you, seeing as your eyes widen, then turns to Anon.
>”Trixie is listening, but she already knows the things Sunset calls her.”
“Trixie, whatever he says-“
>”Like an autistic retard whose parents probably tried to smother her when she was born?”
>That…
>How does he hear things like that?
>Does he stalk you and the group all day?
>You didn’t even say that.
>Well, not all of it anyway…

>”Yeah, she might just call you an idiot in public, but way worse things happen when your back is turned.”
>Trixie is wide-eyed.
>She looks at your with disgust.
“H-how do you even know that?”
>”See, she even admits to it.”
>What?
>Damn it, damn it, damn it!
>”Trixie is not autistic, why would you say that about her?”
>”Because that’s all she thinks of you. She’s the worst kind of person this school has to offer.”
>You didn’t want it to be like this
>You just wanted to be nice to someone for once.
>But Anon is here to stop you, again.
>”I’m pretty sure her two brainless followers scribbled all over the cards as well, which is probably why she wants to give them back to you.”
>Trixie put her hands over her mouth.
>”No! I spent months getting those cards!”
>She snatches the deck from your hands.
“They didn’t do anything to them! I mean it, I just wanted to give them back okay.”
>”Yeah sure, sounds legit coming from the one and only Sunset Shimmer. Just take away that little posse of yours and suddenly you’re the nicest person in the world!”
>Anon’s sarcastic tone hits a nerve, almost reflexively you  glare at him and clench your fist.
>His eyes flash with fear and flinches back, preparing for an assault.
>Almost immediately your hands go limp.
>You couldn’t…. not to him… not again.
>”See, immediately you want to smack my teeth in. What the hell is wrong with you?”
>He snaps back into position, his face flustered.
>”I bet it feels good to be stronger than other people doesn’t it? I bet you and your sick twisted posse get off to making other people scared of you, don’t you!”
“Stop it! I didn’t mess with Trixie’s cards, you’ll see.”
>Just as you finish talking Trixie emits a high-pitch scream.

>”YOU LIAR, THEY’RE RUINED.”
>No way
>No no no.
>How?
>Snips and Snails just brought the cards straight to you didn’t they?
>Since when have they done stupid stuff like this on their own?
>”What did I tell you Trixie. Never trust Sunset.”
>This isn’t fair.
>All you wanted to do was to do something nice for once.
“No! I-I didn’t know Trixie I’m-“
>You’re cut off when Trixie attacks you.
>She viciously swipes at your head, sending cards flying everywhere.
>”Why would you ruin Trixie’s cards!? Trixie never did anything to you!”
>Your reflexes kick in and you shove her off.
>She’s flung way further then you expected, slamming into the lockers and slumping to the ground.
>”TRIXie… hates… y o u…”
>She tries to get up but crumples to the ground again, gasping for air.
>Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you Sunset?
>You just wanted to help someone, but now you’ve hurt them instead.
>Why can’t you just make friends like a normal person?
>Why does Anon have to make it so hard for you…?
>This is all his fault. It’s his fault you can’t make friends!
>Trixie is glaring at you with tears in her eyes.
>She tries to talk but can’t summon up her voice.
>You avert your vision and look down to the ground.
>You see the cards splayed out across the grounds.
>Most are ripped or crumpled, any that aren’t have crude phallus drawn on them
>Well there’s no doubt it was Snips and Snails now.
>God damn it…
>”I can’t believe I ever trusted you.”
>You look up again and see Anon still glaring at you.
>You see him here, and you see him before.
>In a different time but the same situation.
>You sneak away from your expectant peers, you try to be nice.
>Apologize to someone you’ve hurt, try to help someone who needs it
>Try to make friends.
>And he’s there.
>Reminding you that you’re a terrible person.
>Reminding others that you’re a terrible person.
>Following you around as a physical manifestation of your guilt.
>So you always end up alone.


“Trixie… I’m sorry.”
>She doesn’t acknowledge you.
>She just keeps crying.
>You’re frustrated at being ignored, but it’s so pointless to get angry now.
>”No you’re not.”
>You can’t tell if Anon is accusing you, or demanding that it’s the truth.
“Why can’t you believe that? I’m sorry about the cards, and I’m sorry about calling her all those names.”
>His eyes do not return any kindness.
>They never have since you hurt him.
“And… and I’m sorry about me, okay Anon? I wish I could take back everything that happened after Fall Formal.”
>His eyes flicker as he silently scans your face.
>Can’t he just accept this?
>This is the one chance you’ve had to apologize to him without Flash or those two brainless goons, or anyone around.
>He wouldn’t even let you…
>Trixie was here, but if there’s someone you can trust not to talk to anyone, it’s her.
>You just wanted to do one nice thing today, even if it’s just to make up for something you’ve done.
>”Do you really think you can take all that back now? You can just say you’re sorry and it’s all over? I was in a hospital Sunset, all alone.”
>His eyes are like boiling hot gemstones. Burning into your soul
>”You never came. Not once.”
“I-I wanted to Anon... but-”
>”Yeah, sure you did. I’m sure you tried so hard to get in contact with me, right?”
“Shut up!”
>He does nothing, not giving you an inch.
>You look at the ground again.
“I know it probably doesn’t make any difference now. But no one came to see me either while I was suspended. I was alone too.”
>”Alone?”
>You hear the soft cracking of knuckles as he clenches his fists.
>”If you could only know...”
>”HEY!”
>A loud voice pierces the silence and reverberates across the hall.
>All of you whip around to see a spikey-haired silhouette enter with the setting sun over his shoulder.
>He drops a cigarette to the floor and stamps it out.
>”You two messing with my girl?”

>Flash is here as well?
>Do people just follow you around after school?
“Flash, what are you even doing here?”
>”Just here to save my princess, babe. All I wanted was a kiss before I went home.”
“You waited for me for like an hour?”
>He smirks
>”I’m a patient guy babe, I got a lot of… endurance.”
>He licks his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.
>If there was a time for this it’s definitely not now.
>What the hell does he think this is?
“Well everything is fine Flash, so you can go home. And I told you to stop calling me princess.”
>”Fine?”
>His shoes clock loudly against the tiled floor as he gets closer.
>”For one, my tough-as-nails *princess* looks about ready to cry while she’s surrounded by the two of the school’s most beyond-saving autists.”
>He lifts up his middle finger instead of his index finger to start the count.
>”Two, I needed to see this stupid gobbler’s face when she saw her cards.”
>How does he know about that?
“Flash, did you-“
>”Man, imagine if everyone could see you crying over autists like this. I have half a mind to just tell the whole school you got pushed around by Anon.”
>Your mouth clasps shut
>”But I wouldn’t do that to my princess now, would I?”
>He looks down on you with a warm but threatening smile.
>So it’s let him do this or be ousted?
>What else can you do?
>Maybe it won’t be so bad…
>Not like either of them were going to forgive you anyway.
>Come on, you’re Sunset Shimmer, remember?
>You’re top of the school, you don’t take crap from anyone.
>What do you care about these autists?

“No, you wouldn’t.”
>Flash gives you a toothy grin.
>”That-a-girl”
>Flash crouches down to get eye level with Trixie.
>”Are you seriously crying over some cards? You really are autistic, aren’t you?”
>Trixie glared at him, still unable to stand.
>”Whoa there Arnie. Don’t get angry at me, Sunset’s the one who messed up your stuff, blame her, her and those little fags.”
>What?
>Your face momentarily goes blank with rage.
>He’s pinning the whole thing on you?
>That’s bull, he told them to draw on the cards.
>Oh, stop caring.
>You’re Sunset Shimmer.
>The look on your face returns to normal.
>”Get out of here Flash.”
>Flash whips around to Anon.
>”Hey, hey. What’s with all the crap you’re flinging my way? Sunset’s the one you have the problem with.”
>”I generally have a problem with people who refer to me as an autist or a retard.”
>Flash snorts a laugh.
>”Sorry man, I tell like I see em’.”
>Anon narrows his eyes.
>”Mind if I do the same then?”
>This isn’t going to end well.
>But what do you care, right?
>Flash gives his signature self-centered smirk.
>”It’s funny that a guy like you hides behind his girlfriend all the time.”
>Flash’s smirk doesn’t change.
> “You talk big all the time like you’re some hotshot, but I know you’re just another one of Sunset’s little fanclub members like those two walking cockroaches.”
>Flash keeps smiling.
>”Ah, a smartass as well as an autist.”
>But his eyes are dark.
>”Don’t worry, I know exactly how to deal with back-talking little shits like you.”
>What?
>”You really think I’m scared of-“
>Anyone can realize what he’s doing, Flash whips his arm forward.
>And strikes Anon square in the face with full force.
>Anon drops like a sack onto the floor immediately.
>Trixie shrieks in terror.
>And so do you.

>You clasp your hands over your mouth to stifle the high-pitched noise that slipped out.
>Flash chuckles to himself.
>”Works every time.”
>He’s falling again.
>No…
>Flash cracks his knuckles.
>Is he going to hit him again?!
>No way he’s going to hit him again.
>Faster than you thought your legs could move, you dash over and put yourself between Flash and Anon.
>You’re practically standing over Anon.
>”Really Sunset?”
“You wanted a kiss, right Flash?”
>He looks between you and Anon with an amused look on his face.
>He peeks out the window and spies the sun gradually dissipating into the night.
>He closes his eyes and shrugs, with a smile on his face
>”Oh, I want more than that, but iIt’s pretty late, I can’t be assed dealing with autists at this hour.”
>You let out a deep breath of relief.
>If it’ll put a stop to this situation, you can stomach a kiss with Flash.
“Fine, let’s just-“
>He doesn’t wait for you to finish.
>He grabs your hair by the back of your head and shoves your lips against his.
>You let out a squeak in surprise, which is quickly stifled as he forces his tongue into your mouth.
>You feel it viciously sloshing around, pressing against any softness it can find.
>You feel like you’re going to vomit.
>As soon as you push against his shoulder in protest he immediately shoves you off.
>You throw your hand out and manage to catch your balance on a wall.
>You wipe your mouth off on your sleeve, fighting the urge to dry heave.
>Nothing about that was enjoyable.

>Despite the fact that there’s no way he could have possibly enjoyed that wet, clammy meeting of the tongues, Flash was smirking proudly.
>”Thanks princess.”
>He immediately starts heading towards the exit, not giving you a moment to catch up.
>Why the hell would you want to anyway?
>Enough is enough.
>If the life waiting for you is an invasive tongue attached to a violent asshole, then you’ll take your chances being on the receiving end and stick with the ‘autists’.
>You walk back over to Anon.
>he’s still on the floor, supporting himself on one arm.
>He’s glaring at Flash.
>Flash looks back to you when he realizes you’re not following him, and locks eyes with Anon.
>”Hey retard, you’ve got a little something on your face.”
>He smirks at his own joke.
>Anon spits out some blood.
>And probably a tooth.
>”As I was saying: do you really think I’m afraid of you?”
>Flash laughs.
>An uncomfortable, aggressive, threatening laugh.
>”Come on babe, wait till everybody hears about how you showed this pussy who’s boss.”
>Think again Flash.
>You turn away from him and crouch down to offer Anon your hand.
>The hell with Flash and everything else.
>The hell with being popular and having people scared of you.
>The hell with power.
>You want your old life back.
>You know you can’t go back to Equestria but you don’t need this.
>Magic, REAL magic is right here.
>Right?
>Anon looks at your hand.
>Come on.
>You don’t care how many names Anon calls you.
>Anything is better than Flash.
>”Get away from me.”
>…
>You don’t care how long it takes.
>If he could just give you a chance…
“Please Anon… I can make it up to you.”
>”Babe, what the fuck?”
>Anon stares you in the eyes.
>Just…
>”I’ll never forgive you Sunset.”

>Your arm is fixed in place. As is your expression.
>That’s it then, isn’t it?
>He’ll never forgive you.
>You’re alone.
>Except for Flash.
>If that even counts as being with someone.
>You lower your hand and slowly stand up.
“Sorry Flash, what were you saying?”
>”I was saying how much everyone is gonna freak when they hear how much of a pussy this guy is that he not only got beat up once by a girl, but twice.”
>You put your hands on your hips.
“Excuse me? If me being able to kick someone’s ass makes them a pussy, then half the school are pussies.”
>Flash smirks.
>”That’s my princess.”
“Don’t call me princess.”
>”Sure thing princess.”
>Anyone else and you would have knocked their teeth in.
>But you don’t have anyone else.
>You walk over to Flash, leaving Anon and Trixie behind you.
>Trixie had managed to pick herself up, but Anon is still glaring at you from the floor.
>Whatever.
>You’re done trying to make up for anything.
>As you walk by Flash he puts his arm around your waist.
>You hear the soft crumpling of hard cardboard as the two of your crunch over Trixie’s cards.
>In the background Trixie emits a small whimper.
>Didn’t you come here to apologize to her?
>Guess you should have checked the cards.
>What do you care anyway?
>You can’t change who you are.
>You’re Sunset Shimmer.