A/N: Can we all just agree to let Donny's Boy write all of these from now on? He is seriously awesome.

"Paper Faces on Parade"

Guest Submission by Donny's Boy

“Masquerade! Paper faces on parade ...

Masquerade! Hide your face, so the world will never find you.

Masquerade! Every face a different shade ...

Masquerade! Look around, there’s another mask behind you.”

--”Masquerade,” The Phantom of the Opera

With her heart pounding in her chest and her breath ragged in her throat, Mare Do Well leaped from one snow-covered roof to the next. She’d managed to keep herself together while she and Rainbow Dash were talking, but now that Rainbow had left for Rarity’s, her brain was racing as quickly and as recklessly as her legs.

Pinkie had confessed.

Pinkie had confessed.

She’d known about Pinkie’s crush, of course. She wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t blind. They had all known. But not a one of them had thought that Pinkie Pie would actually ever admit to her feelings. That wasn’t how Pinkie worked--wasn’t how Pinkie was supposed to work, anyway. Pinkie smiled and smiled and smiled, and she pushed everything that wasn’t sunshine and laughter deep down inside, where it would never see the light of day, where it would fester and ferment.

It was all too easy for Mare Do Well to recognize that Pinkie did this. After all, she did the exact same thing herself.

She hadn’t realized she’d been heading for Sugar Cube Corner until she landed on the bakery’s roof with a soft thump. Mare Do Well took a deep, steadying breath. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea, really. There was still time to turn back and return home, and she knew that was the smart thing to do.

But then, absolutely everything about Mare Do Well was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? Mare Do Well was impulsive and brash and manipulative and utterly unlike the actual pony behind the mask. That had been the entire point. And, honestly, sometimes she grew tired of always having to do the smart thing. The responsible thing. The carefully considered thing.

Sometimes, giving in to the impulsive felt as freeing as it did to fly through the air as easily as one of Fluttershy’s birds as she jumped across Ponyville’s rooftops.

Besides, if there had ever been a moment for her to turn back, it had come and gone a long, long time ago. So, after one last moment’s hesitation, Mare Do Well dropped down through the still-open pegasus door on the bakery roof. She landed in Pinkie’s bedroom with barely a sound and, after taking a quick look around, spotted Pinkie sitting on her bed with Gummy clutched to her chest.

For her own part, Pinkie Pie was staring directly at Mare Do Well. Her eyes were watery but also strangely hard; her deep, blue irises glittered like ice. “Hello, Twilight.”

Mare Do Well didn’t react. Didn’t gasp, didn’t jump, didn’t so much as twitch. But her heart leaped into her throat, and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach with nausea. She waited a few moments, to allow herself time to settle her nerves, before she spoke in the smooth, husky voice she’d cultivated and perfected over the last several weeks.

“Hello, Pinkie Pie,” she replied. She was downright amazed at how calm and in-control she sounded.

“Why are you here?”

“Do I really need a special reason to visit a good, dear friend?” She hadn’t meant it to sound snide, but that mocking Mare Do Well tone had crept into her words regardless.

Pinkie pursed her lips, as she glanced down at Gummy. “You’re hurting her. You’re one of the smartest smarty pants ponies I’ve ever met, so I know you have to be able to see how much you’re hurting her.”

Mare Do Well fought down the urge to fidget nervously or to paw at the floor like a foal who was being scolded. “I don’t mean to. I … I’ve never meant to hurt her. To hurt anypony.”

“You have to stop, Twilight. You have to tell her.”

“I can’t.” Mare Do Well shook her head. “If I tell her, she won’t want to have anything to do with me. If I tell her, I’ll lose her completely, and I can’t let that happen.”

Pinkie Pie gently set her pet alligator down on the bed before hopping up herself. She took a few steps towards Mare Do Well and, when she spoke again, her voice had softened considerably. “Rainbow Dash is the loyalest pony in Equestria. She wouldn’t leave you.”

“Well, she left you, didn’t she?”

The earth pony flinched, as though she’d just been struck. In an instant, the ice was back in her eyes and in her voice, as she spat out, “Why are you here?”

Mare Do Well hung her head. This was … this was not what she wanted. This was going all wrong, just like everything else she did, and she had no one to blame but herself. She sighed. She could feel Pinkie’s eyes boring into her, but she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t even sure herself exactly why she’d come here, truth be told.

Instincts. Instincts were what led her here, and instincts were what had told her to first put on the mask she wore right now. Mare Do Well was starting to remember why she never used to listen to her instincts, why she always planned everything down to the very last detail.

Instincts couldn’t be trusted.

“Perhaps I wanted to talk to someone,” the masked mare finally allowed, very quietly. “Perhaps I just wanted to talk to someone who would understand.”

“But I don’t understand! And I’m not sure I want to understand, either.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Mare Do Well lifted her gaze and snorted. “You don’t know what it’s like to live behind masks? To pretend to be somepony you aren’t?”

Pinkie didn’t respond. She just looked out one of the bedroom windows, her face blank and unyielding.

Mare Do Well should have stopped. She should have shut up right then and there, but she didn’t. She couldn’t resist pressing her advantage, couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “Don’t stand there and pretend that you aren’t jealous that you didn’t think to do the same thing. And don’t you dare pretend that you haven’t hurt Rainbow Dash yourself in a hundred ways of your own.” Her eyes narrowed behind the relative safety of her mask. “Don’t you dare, Pinkamena.”

“W-what?” Pinkie’s head whipped back around, and her eyes went huge with sudden fear and panic. “How did you … did Dashie tell you … “

“No. No, Rainbow didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.” She tilted her head, studying her friend. Her rival. Her adversary. Her … dear Celestia, she didn’t even know what she and Pinkie were to each other anymore. “It’s as you said earlier, Pinkie. I’m smart.”

The two mares stood there, staring down one another, for seconds that seemed to last for hours. The only thing Mare Do Well could hear was the ticking of a nearby clock and her own heavy breathing. Outside the bakery, the snow began falling again, lightly, silently, beautiful and idyllic.

“So, what now?” Pinkie asked at last, her voice sounding small and distant.

“I don’t know. But ... but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Pinkie let out her breath in a gusty sigh. She didn’t say anything, but Mare Do Well took it as a sign that Pinkie accepted her offer. She hoped that Pinkie accepted, anyway.

Then, Pinkie turned around and walked slowly back over to the bed. She sat on its edge. “You should probably go.”

Mare Do Well nodded. That was fair. More than fair, really--it was almost kind of Pinkie to tell her to leave. Without further ado, she headed for the pegasus door and nimbly leaped on top of a nearby dresser. Just as she was about to jump for the door above, she paused. “Pinkie Pie?”

“What?”

To Mare Do Well’s surprise, the earth pony didn’t sound angry or bitter. Just tired. Exhausted, actually.

“You’re wrong, you know. About us not accepting who you really are. If you gave us a chance, we would.” Mare Do Well glanced over her shoulder. “I promise you that.”

In return, Pinkie gave her an inscrutable smile. “I’m not so sure I think your promises are worth a lot right now. But thanks for saying that anyways.”

There was nothing else to add, so Mare Do Well simply turned back around. Crouching down, her muscles coiling in anticipation, she pushed off the dresser and grabbed onto the edge of the pegasus door with her front hooves. Quickly and efficiently, she pulled herself up onto the roof.

“Twilight! Wait!”

She shouldn’t have reacted to the name, shouldn’t have responded. When she was wearing her mask, she was Mare Do Well, and Mare Do Well had no name. But the plaintive note in Pinkie’s voice caused her to freeze in her tracks and look back through the opened door. Pinkie stood directly below, gazing up at her.

Mare Do Well cocked her head and patiently waited.

Pinkie licked her lips before saying anything further. “I just want to know why. Why Rainbow Dash.”

“You do realize I could ask you that very same question.”

“Yeah, but I asked you first.”

Despite herself, Mare Do Well laughed, a short bark of a laugh. Pinkie had gotten her there, she had to admit. Pinkie was good at surprising ponies like that. That was just one of the many reasons it was never advisable to underestimate the deceptively bubbly baker.

Thinking things over for a minute, Mare Do Well finally decided on an answer she wanted to give. “Rainbow Dash doesn’t give up on ponies, no matter how badly damaged they are or how many times they’ve fouled everything up.”

There was a brief silence, and then Pinkie sighed, a soft, wistful sigh. “Maybe you were right,” she said, still looking up through the open door, her big blue eyes reflecting the sunlight from above. “Maybe I do understand.”

Mare Do Well smiled down at her friend, despite the fact she knew it wouldn’t be visible behind her mask. Then she whirled around and took off running, jumping across rooftops with practiced ease, the wind whipping her cape behind her. Even though everything was still a complete and utter mess, even though she was ruining everything and everyone she ever loved, as she flew through the air, Mare Do Well felt as light as a feather.

Pinkie Pie understood.

And if Pinkie Pie understood … maybe Rainbow Dash could, too. Next Chapter: Alternate Ending: Insert Rock Pun Here (Guest submission from SirDerpy) Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 51 Minutes