The train rolled to a screeching stop, pulling into the Vanhoover station. The doors slowly slid open, and the few ponies still onboard climbed off. A strong gust of wind blew through the terminal, causing a certain violet-maned mare to shiver. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck in an attempt to fight off the cold.

Despite the cold weather, Rarity couldn’t help but smile. She was being given the chance of a lifetime. Satin Styles wanted to meet over tea and discuss a possible business partnership. Satin Styles, one of the most influential business mares in all of Equestria, wanted to form a partnership with her, a nopony designer from Ponyville. Her smile grew bigger and brighter with each passing minute.

Dong. Dong. Dong.

The sound of the clock tower echoed throughout the city.

Rarity tensed up. “It’s already three o’clock? I’m going to be late!”

She broke into a gallop, haphazardly plowing through crowds of ponies. Some may have yelled profanities after her, but she neither noticed nor cared. She was an unstoppable freight train, hurtling down the sidewalk at unimaginable speeds. She wanted – no, she needed to get there on time.

There was a sickly cough.

The conductor flipped on the breaks, and the freight train came to a crashing halt.

The perpetrator was a young filly. She lay on the side of the street, curled up in a tight little ball. She had cuts and bruises all over her body, and her coat and mane were matted. A tin can sat in front her, next to it a clumsily written sign that read, “Homeless. Please help.”

Rarity’s heart leapt into her throat. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

The filly looked up at her with big, pleading eyes and a hopeful smile.

Rarity broke. She opened her bit pouch and dropped a few coins into the tin can. After shooting the filly a shaky smile, she continued on her way.

“You really think you’re helping her, don’t you?”

Rarity turned to face the speaker. He was a dusty-maned stallion with a scruffy coat. A little splotch of grease rested on his cheek.

“What do you mean?” Rarity asked.

He puffed his cigarette and leaned up against the lamppost beside him. “That filly back there. You really think you’re helping her?”

“Of course. Giving money is considered charitable, is it not?”

He rolled his eyes. “What’s three bits going to do for her? Besides, chances are it’s going to get scammed off of her anyway. Or stolen. Either way, my point still stands.”

Rarity’s eye twitched. “That’s a tad cynical, don’t you think?”

He gave his cigarette another puff. “Princess, I'm not a cynic. I’m a realist. There's a difference.”

“Still, I don’t see how giving her some change was harmful. I was simply being generous. It’s what I do.”

“Think about it. Chances are she’s been living off the streets her whole life. There are definitely others like you who’ve given her some change, but look where that’s gotten her. She’s still sitting on the side of the street, begging for money. If she wanted to make something of herself, she would’ve done it already.”

Rarity hesitantly glanced back at the filly, who was now snoring fitfully.

A hollow smile wormed it’s way onto his face. “Only fools believe they can change the world, Princess. You ought to know that by now.”

Rarity shuffled her hooves.

He tossed his cigarette on the sidewalk. “Name’s Sprocket, by the way. If you wanna talk, I run a shop just down the block.”

Rarity gave him a polite nod and continued to her meeting with Satin Styles, albeit at a much slower pace.

Eventually, she reached the imposing building. She paused in front of the enormous steps and stared up at the sky. Ominous storm clouds had long since rolled in, and it was just starting to drizzle. After taking a breath to steel herself, she headed inside.

“You must be Miss Rarity. Follow me please,” the secretary said.

Rarity smiled, falling in step with the older mare. “Thank you.”

“You’re late, you know. Miss Styles hates ponies who aren’t punctual.”

Rarity gulped.

The duo climbed into an elevator, falling uncomfortably silent. The tension in the air was almost tangible. When the elevator finally came to a stop, Rarity let out a sigh of relief. The secretary led her down the hall to the corner office.

“I can take your scarf if you’d like, Miss Rarity.”

Rarity passed her the scarf. “Thank you very much.”

The secretary headed back down to the foyer, leaving Rarity alone.

Her mind was racing a million miles a minute, her heart pounding at a similar pace. She hesitantly knocked on the door, only to have it flung open immediately by one of Satin Styles’ butlers.

The mare herself was on the far side of the room. She sat in a leather chair behind a big, expensive desk. A smaller, wooden chair sat on the other side, presumably where Rarity was to sit. The whole scene was more reminiscent of principal’s office than a place to discuss business.

“Take a seat, Rarity.”

Rarity hesitantly took a seat.

Satin Styles had several years on Rarity. Her coat was a gentle beige, and she had a long, flowing, velvet mane. Her ruby eyes exuded complacence.

“I… I’m sorry that I am late, Miss Styles. I got a little bit tangled up on the way here.”

“It’s quite alright, Rarity. Now, let’s get down to business,” she said.

Rarity smiled. “Of course, Miss Styles.”

“Now,” she said, “It's no question that everypony loves your dresses. Your seams are seamless, and your embroidery is impeccable. You have a real talent on your hands.”

Rarity nodded.

“Of course, I would love to have you be part of Styles Industries. The question is would you?”

“Yes.”

Satin cracked a grin. “Wonderful. Now I can’t just let you sign on without working out a deal first. How about I get twenty percent of the profits, and I endorse your name?”

Rarity nodded blindly.

Satin stuck a hoof toward Rarity. “Glad we could make an agreement.”

She shook her hoof, a big, dumb grin plastered across her face.

“So, Rarity, why were you running late?” Satin asked casually.

“Well, you see, there was this homeless filly on the side of the street, so I–”

Satin Styles cut her off with a cold-hearted chuckle. “Rarity, please don’t tell me you actually gave her your change.”

“Why… why shouldn’t I have?”

“You can’t do things like that if you ever want to make it big.”

“I… I don’t… why?”

“You need to be greedy, Rarity. If you’re given something, you’ve got to keep it for yourself. If you go around giving away everything you’ve got, you won’t make it anywhere. You think I got where I am from playing it nice? It’s like my father always told me: ‘You can walk all over those beneath you. You’ll never be beneath them again anyway.’ If you want to amount to anything, you have to be willing to fight tooth and nail for it.”

The silence stretched, growing tauter and tauter with each passing second.

“M-Miss Styles, you must understand. I am the element of Generosity. Being generous is who I am,” Rarity said.

She sighed and took a sip of her tea. “Rarity, if you keep tripping over the little ponies, you’re going to be the last to finish the race. Nopony wants to finish last.”

Rarity looked down at her own tea cup, not wanting to meet Satin Style’s gaze. She took a sip. It was bitter and cold.

“Rarity, you must understand something. You’re a very talented designer, definitely talented enough to make an impact on the fashion world. Together, we’d be unstoppable. But you’ve got to want it. If you don’t… well, then I’m sorry, but I can’t work with you.”

Rarity looked beyond her, staring out the window. What was a gentle drizzle before was now a torrential downpour.

Rarity’s stomach twisted in her gut. “I… I need to go.”

She jumped up from her chair and ran to the door, sprinting down the hall and into the elevator. After grabbing her scarf from the secretary, she bursted through the front door and into the freezing rain.

She galloped down the barren sidewalks, haphazardly making turns left and right. She didn’t care where she was going, so long as it wasn’t there. She ran and ran and ran, not willing to let herself stop.

Eventually her legs gave out beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground. She was in a dirty alleyway some miles from any place she recognized. Puddles were everywhere, and she was sprawled out in a particularly large one. The ground, the buildings, the sky… they were all gray. Everything was so very gray.

Her heart beat gradually slowed. “I want to be at the top… but I don’t want to hurt ponies on my way there…” Rarity wasn’t sure if she had said the words aloud or not.

She couldn’t give up being generous. It was who she was. But Satin Styles…

It didn’t make sense. According to Satin, greed was ambition. But she could be generous and successful at the same time… right?

Rarity was crying. It took her a moment to realize it, but she was. Not dainty little tears, no. Full out wracking sobs that shook her to the core.

She lay there in the puddle, pathetically crying her eyes out. The rain furiously beat down on her coat, drenching her inside and out. Her scarf was soaked, but she wrapped it tighter around her nonetheless. She needed to feel something, anything. She needed to know it was all real.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed that way. It could have been hours, it could have minutes. Time passed, and she was cold and alone. That was all she knew for sure.

A back door to one of the buildings opened, and an elderly stallion stepped out. He fumbled with his keys, attempting to lock up his shop for the night. That is, until he saw Rarity.

He dropped his keys and gasped. “Goodness! You’re going to catch yourself a wicked cold if you stay out here. Come, let’s get you something warm to drink.”

Rarity sniffled. “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Nonsense. I’d be insulted if you didn’t take me up on my offer.”

After a moment of trepidation, Rarity clambered to her hooves and followed the stallion inside.

He flipped on the lights and moved behind the counter. “Take a seat. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Rarity sat down at the counter. Her sobs turned to sniffles, and she slowly calmed down. A wave of cold ran over her, and she shivered. She wrapped her hooves around herself to retain some warmth.

The stallion came back with a mug in hoof. He slid it down the counter with a smile. “I figured I couldn’t go wrong with hot chocolate.”

Rarity looked down at the drink, back up at the stallion, and down at the drink once more. Hesitantly, she picked it up and took a sip. The warmth of the drink pushed out the cold, making her feel a thousand times better. She tipped the bottom up and chugged the whole drink eagerly.

He grinned. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“T-thank you,” Rarity said.

She gave him a once over. His mane was grey, and his coat a soft brown. It was clear he was elderly, but his eyes said otherwise.

“No problem. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, but what were you doing out there in the rain? Everypony is inside today. They made the announcement for this storm months ago.”

“Actually, I’m not from around here.”

“That explains that. So you’re here on business?”

Rarity hesitated. Should she trust him? He was a complete stranger. There was no telling how he’d react.

She immediately berated herself for thinking such things. He was hospitable enough to take her in and give her something warm to drink. The least she could do was tell him her story. Heck, he was the perfect stranger. If she was going to vent to anypony, he was her best option.

“Y-yes, I am. I’m a fashion designer from Ponyville.”

His eyes grew wide. “You came all the way to Vanhoover from Ponyville? Why, that’s more than halfway across Equestria! Must’ve been one heck of a train ride.”

Rarity gave him a hollow smile. “Yeah. In fact, I came here at the request of Satin Styles.”

She paused to wait for his response, but he remained silent.

Rarity sighed. “I was excited at first. I mean, who wouldn’t be excited at the prospect of working with the one and only Satin Styles? Then… then I met her.”

He let out a warm laugh. “I had a run-in with her her once. Definitely not the most pleasant of ponies, that’s for sure.”

Rarity giggled. “I couldn’t agree more. She… she told me that if I wanted to work with her, I had to give up being generous.”

He waited for her to continue.

“I should probably tell you about myself before I continue,” Rarity said. “I am Rarity–”

Recognition flashed in his eyes. “I knew I remembered you from somewhere! You’re the Element of Generosity, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “Being generous is my policy. It’s who I am, and she’s asking me to stop. I… I’m torn. I want to work with her, but I don’t want to change. I… I just… I can’t…” She could feel the tears being to well behind her eyes.

He placed a comforting hoof onto hers. “You’ve really gotten yourself into quite the pickle here. Tell me, why is generosity so important to you?”

Rarity stopped to think. “Well… generosity has always been a part of my life. I mean, my parents always used to tell me ‘What goes around comes around,’ and I suppose it simply stuck with me.”

Rarity’s gaze shifted down to her empty mug. “But… a few months ago my friends and I went to Manehattan for a fashion competition. I was so happy that I started giving little gifts away to everypony. Then things started going wrong left and right, and… well, the only reason everything turned out alright was because the ponies I had been nice to decided to return the favor. On that day, I promised myself I would always be generous to everypony I could.”

“So you’re generous for good karma?”

“…I suppose so, yes.”

He smiled. “Sweetie, your heart is in the right place, but it’s there for all the wrong reasons.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can I tell you a story?” he asked. “I feel it’s the best way for me to explain.”

Rarity nodded.

He smiled. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I was once married. I even had two foals. Twins, actually. My wife and I tried out darndest to raise ‘em right, too. We taught them everything we could about the world; we wanted them to be ready for when they finally left home.”

He sighed. “But since then, my wife has passed, and our foals moved out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rarity said.

“Don’t be. I’ve had more than enough time to enjoy what I was given. I have no regrets. Though the same can’t be said for my foals.”

“What happened?”

“Well, one of them is in jail. He was charged with grand larceny six years ago, and he’s got another six years left to serve.”

Rarity opened her mouth to apologize once more, but she realized it would be fruitless.

“A few moths ago, I visited him. My wife had just passed, my other son was thousands of miles away, and I needed somepony to talk to.”

His ears splayed. “While I was there, I asked him, ‘Dawn Striker, do you regret what you did?’ Do you know what he said back to me?”

“What… what did he say?”

“He said, ‘No, Dad. I don’t regret stealing anything. I mean, if I didn’t steal it, then somepony else would have.’ ”

He stared down at his hooves for a moment, trying to get a hold of himself. “I told him, ‘That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?’ to which he replied, ‘Eh. You can choose to be good or bad, but either way you end up dead.’ ”

Rarity gasped.

He tensed up. “I didn’t even dignify him with a response. I just up and left right then and there. But once I calmed down, I realized he was right. For every criminal that gets locked up, there will always be another one to take his place. What was the point in choosing the right path if you can get the same thing by cheating?”

Rarity wrapped her hooves tighter around herself.

“Once I got home, I sat down and wrote my other son a letter. You see, the day he turned eighteen he shipped out to Saddle Arabia. He wanted to give back to those less fortunate than himself, even if it meant braving bullets in a war-torn country. I always respected his decision, though I was upset he was so far from home.”

Rarity pursed her lips.

“In my letter I asked him, ‘Sunset Star, what made you decide to trade your life of luxury for this?’ Do you know what he said back?”

“What did he say?” Rarity asked.

“He said, ‘Dad, if I don’t do it, nopony will.’ ”

Rarity’s stomach leapt into her throat.

“You see, Rarity, we’re given two choices in life. You can take the high road, but you must know that it is steady and steep. Or you can take the low road and throw morality to the wind. Only you can choose. But right now, Rarity, you’re walking the line. You’ve reached the point where you must choose. You can cave to Satin and submit to greed, or you can fight your own way to the top the right way. Either way, you have to choose.”

He slammed a hoof down on the countertop. “So, Rarity, what’ll it be?”

Tears were flowing down her cheeks again. She cracked a smile and leapt to her hooves, running for the door.

Just before she went back out into the cold, she turned back to the stallion. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Solstice. My name is Solstice,” he said.

Rarity nodded sagely. “Thank you, Solstice. For everything.”

At that, she dove back out into the rain. She galloped toward the very building she had fled from not even a few hours ago. She bursted through its front doors and few up the stairs to the familiar corner office.

She stopped outside the door, having heard voices.

“I don’t know. I mean, I’d make a lot of money if she were my ‘business partner’, but I won’t carry her like dead weight. It’s too bad, really. She could’ve made me a lot of money,” said the first voice.

“She seemed too eccentric, anyway,” another voice replied. “You’re better off without her.”

They both snickered.

Rarity scowled and bucked open the door. She stormed into the office and got up in Satin Style’s face, completely ignoring the secretary. “So that’s all I was to you? Just another way to earn some money?” Rarity asked, her voice laced with hurt.

Rarity paced around the room. “You know, I learned something today. It doesn’t matter if you strike it rich, or even if everypony knows your name. In the end, all that matters is the mark you’ve left on the world, no matter how large or small.”

“Rarity—”

“Let me finish!” Rarity hissed. “You see, in the end we all end up dead. The difference between you and I is that I’ll be remembered as a well-intentioned philanthropist, where you’ll be remembered as a stuck-up twat.”

Satin Style’s jaw hit the floor.

Rarity smirked. “It’s been nice talking to you, but I'm going to have to reject your business offer. One day you’ll see the error of your ways. See you around, Miss Avarice.”

Rarity spun around and left the room, leaving two stupefied mares behind her.

Rarity happily skipped down the street. The rain was beginning to let up, but it was still coming down heavily. She didn’t mind, though. She hardly even felt it. What she did feel was liberated.

Rarity took an abrupt right turn, heading down the same street she had walked down what felt like forever ago. She saw the familiar form of a fragile filly in the distance.

Rarity galloped over, sporting a broad smile, her wet mane plastered down onto her head.

The filly was shivering violently, drenched to the core.

Rarity frowned. “Are you cold?”

The filly nodded.

Rarity smiled. After wringing it out with her magic, she wrapped her scarf around the smaller mare.

The filly smiled weakly. “T-t-thank you.”

Rarity sat down next to her. “What’s your name?”

“L-L-Lucky Star,” she said, her teeth chattering.

For a moment, Rarity said nothing. The filly hesitantly huddled closer to her for warmth.

“Lucky Star, do you happen to have a home?”

Her ears splayed. “N-no. I… I don’t have anything, Miss.”

“Please, call me Rarity,” she said with a smile.

“Okay, Miss R-Rarity.”

Rarity rolled her eyes, ever present grin still plastered on her face. “Say, Lucky, how would you like to come live with me? I’m sure Sweetie would love to have another friend. Sure, Spike might be a little jealous at first, but he’ll get over it.”

Lucky Star’s eyes lit up brighter than the sun. “R-Really? Do you mean it?”

Rarity wrapped a hoof around her. “Of course I mean it. But… I have one more stop I’d like to make before we go.”

Sprocket downed the rest of his coffee and kicked open the door. He slowly trotted down the street, loath to start another day of the work. Sure, being a mechanic was his special talent, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it. In his book, anything that was classified as ‘work’ was only there to make his life more miserable.

He fumbled with his keys, eventually unlocking the front door. He was about to walk straight through the main entryway to his office when he noticed a piece of parchment sitting on the floor.

“Huh. Somepony must’ve slipped it under the door last night.”

He read the letter to himself:

Dear Cynic,

         Realist,

         Sprocket,

You taught me something today.

Something you said really struck a chord with me. You said, “Only fools think they can change the world.” Well, call me a fool all you want, because I CAN and WILL make a difference.

You see, it’s not about the size or shape of the deed you do. It’s the fact that you did it that matters. Remember when I gave the homeless filly a few bits? That’s not all I gave her. I gave her hope. That’s more than anypony can ask for.

If everypony goes out of their way to do a little something altruistic, then together we can make this world a better place. All it takes is a little bit of patience and a whole lot of determination.

The smallest thing can make all the difference. Love is alive, my friend.

You still remember that homeless filly? Her name is Lucky Star, and I just adopted her. We’re filling out all the papers as I write this.

Make a change, Sprocket. You won’t regret it.

I wish you all the best in everything you do.

Sincerely, Rarity