A single candle illuminates the desktop as you continue to sift through piles of papers. Unpaid bills, overdraft notices, collection agency threats; there was no end to it. And to think you agreed to pay for Sweetie Belle’s birthday party coming up...

Business has been somewhat... slow. The most work you were getting these day was little patch up jobs on torn clothing. According to tahese totals, you’re going to need quite a sum of money just to catch up with your debts. Letting out a disheartened sigh, you slouch down in your chair and look around the room. Darkness consumes every corner not touched by the candle or moon’s light, giving the room an ominous feeling. The silence of the late night air would normally calm one down, but with all these problems looming in front of you, it’s rather difficult to do such a thing.

Piling up the papers, you stick them into the top drawer of your desk and slam it shut. You rub your hoof against your forehead, trying to think of what to do next. Looking at the small clock on your desk, you decide it’s best to get some rest. The last thing you needed was bags developing under your eyes. Darkness quickly consumes the room as you blow out the candle and head off to bed.

The buzzing from your alarm clock breaks you from your sweet slumber more abruptly this morning. Slamming your hoof down onto the snooze button, you rip yourself out from under the warm sanctity of your sheets and blankets and head to the bathroom. You perform the usual morning tasks: shower, makeup, hair, and breakfast. Everything seems to be working out well this morning; even the toaster that usually gives you trouble decided to cooperate with you today. Sitting down at the kitchen table, you begin to mull over today’s agenda as you bite down on a piece of toast.

It would be best to get some more thread since you were running low. You also have a tea date with Twilight in the afternoon. Finishing the last of your juice, you remove yourself from the table and clean your dirty dishes. It looks like you’ll need to dip into the last of your funds for this one. Opening the bottom drawer of your desk, you pull out the last three bits from your now empty purse. You put on your saddlebags and head straight for the market.

The market seems busier today than normal. Ponies from all around continue their usual chores, from buying produce to haggling with one another. You head over to your usual stand where a mare awaits with a wide smile.

“Rarity! So good to see you. How goes the boutique?”

“Oh, it’s just grand! Business couldn’t be any better.” Such a blatant lie. Why couldn’t you just tell the truth?

“That’s wonderful to hear! But enough about that. I’m pretty sure you came here to buy something instead of conversing with me,” she jokes, pointing at her wares.

“Of course, dear. I just need some black thread is all.” The mare digs into a box and places a roll on the counter.

“That’ll be four bits.” You furrow your brow and place dig into your bag, looking for your money. Removing the only three bits from your purse, you continue to ‘search’ for the last non-existent coin.

“Oh, my. It seems I only have three bits on me. Wasn’t this thread only two bits last week?” The sales mare shrugs and gives you a deadpan look.

“Well, they’ve been in high demand since then, so I have to raise the price. The price is really six bits, so I’m cutting you a deal already. I’ll go no lower than four bits.” You continue to frivolously search your bag when a shadow overlaps you. A tall figure stands behind you, sporting a white t-shirt and shorts. He pulls out a large sack filled with bits from his pocket.

“I gotcha.” He throws four bits onto the counter and casually walks away. You watch in awe as he heads down the road. If you weren’t mistaken, his name was Anonymous. He came to Ponyville no more than a month ago.

The mare takes the four bits and pushes your three back. Taking the roll and bits, you hurriedly put them in your bag and attempt to catch up with Anonymous. Running down the road, you don’t see him anywhere. It’s almost as if he vanished.

“I never even got to thank him,” you mutter to yourself. Following the usual route home, you stand before the giant carousel-shaped structure. Opening the door, you turn the “Closed” sign to “Open” and gather your tools for the day. As you set up your sewing machines and needles, you emit a disappointed sigh. It wasn’t like anypony was going to pass by anyway.

A few hours pass as you idly wait for anything to happen. Even one of the mediocre patch up jobs would be good right now. Looking out the window, you watch as ponies happily pass, not a worry in their eyes. Something else catches your eye, though. Something odd.

Anonymous is walking with a pony, but not just anypony; he’s walking with Hoity Toity! Why would such an important stallion like Hoity be with a somepony like Anonymous? Your curiosity gets the better of you. Before you know it, you’re placing a sunhat on your head and running out the front door, following them at a distance. The relentless sun beats down on you as you continue following them, making sure not to be noticed. As they approach the train station, Anonymous quickly exchanges a package of some sort with Hoity for a heavy looking bag.

Anonymous looks around and catches sight of you. Oh no! If he finds out that you were following him, he’ll think you’re a creep or something. Quickly, you gallop off back to the boutique and slam the door behind you as you try to catch your breath. Questions begin festering in your head at this point as you pace around the room. Why does Anonymous know Hoity Toity? What was with that exchange?

The small bell above the front door rings, signalling a visitor’s entrance. These questions were meaningless to you; it was best to mind your own business. You trot over to the entrance and begin your usual spell.

“Welcome to Carousel Bo–” The words fail to escape your mouth as you stare into the eyes of none other than Anonymous. He stands at the door, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Carousel Bo? I must be in the wrong place. I thought I was in Carousel Boutique. My apologies.” He reaches for the door as you throw a hoof out in his direction.

“No, no! You are in Carousel Boutique.” You can feel the blood rush to your head. “I’m sorry, I just got sidetracked.” He removes his paw from the handle and turns around, giving you a stark smile.

“Well, hopefully that doesn’t happen when I ask you to make me a suit.” He enters the store and sits down on one of the chairs in front of you desk. You take your place behind the desk and pull out a piece of paper and a quill. Dipping the quill into the ink, you look up at him.

“Anonymous, correct?” He nods as you write it down on the paper. “I’ll have to take measurements. Would you mind standing up?” Grabbing a measuring tape with magic, you drop down from your seat and begin taking measurements.

“I wanted to say thank you for earlier, but before I could, you disappeared. So, thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” he grunts. You continue taking measurements, making sure to write them all down on the parchment.

“Alright dear, I have all your measurements. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” He places his hand to his chin and thinks.

“A simple suit is all.” He looks over at your dresses hanging on the rack and turns back to you. “No jewels, if you don’t mind.” You jot down that down in the notes and total everything up.

“The total is forty bits, dear.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the sack from earlier. A thin line of sweat begins to form on your head as he digs into the bag. Your mind seems to be elsewhere as the words escape your lips.

“I saw you with Hoity earlier.” He stops his rummaging and glares down on you.

“What exactly did you see?” Why were you having this conversation right now?

“I saw you exchange something and him giving you that sack of money. Whatever you exchanged must have been expensive and worth something for Hoity Toity, of all stallions, to want it.” He slowly reaches into his pocket, eyeing you cautiously.

“And what does that have to do with you?”

“I need the money. Whatever you’re producing or making, I would like to help you out with it.” His arm stops making the advance for his pocket and returns to the sack.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” He pulls out the forty bits and places them on the table.

“No means the opposite of yes. I’d figure a smart mare such as yourself would know that. What I deal with is something you don’t want to get involved in.” You quickly block him off as he attempts to exit.

“Listen, I don’t care what it is! I can’t let me business go down! I’ve worked my whole life to get to his point and I can’t let it fall apart in front of me!” The tears quickly begin to build in your eyes at the thought of losing the boutique. Anon looks down at you, a sheer sign of pity in his eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this...” he whispers to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I let you in on what I do, but you have to promise me two things.” You wipe the tears from your eyes and nod.

“Anything.”

“One, no one, and I mean no one, can know what you’re doing. What we’re doing isn’t exactly ethical. Two, you listen to whatever I tell you. I’m the boss and I know what I’m doing. Understood?” You nod in agreement as he reaches for the door.

“Meet me at my place tomorrow. I’ll show you the ropes there.”

Author's Notes:

Not sure if I'm going to continue this one. Still debating on it.