The halls lay eerily silent—and empty, too, but for one glasses-clad girl with her hair up in a neat bun walking slowly, sneakers lightly tapping on the tiles of the floor as she went along. She kept looking around both in front and behind her, over her shoulder, looking to make sure that nobody else was walking her way. She had little to worry about, though; the few students she did see were too focused on their lockers or rushing to class to pay her any notice. Still, she couldn’t help but be cautious; she wasn’t used to doing something like this, even if it was for an... ostensibly good reason.

Rounding another corner, Twilight Sparkle could see a familiar light-purple door coming into sight. Even though she wasn’t particularly attuned to the nuances of colour theory, the door had stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the beige, grey, and green that made up most of the high school’s interior. She smirked as she thought of what Rarity would say—or perhaps what Rarity had said, as Twilight recalled the girl mentioning a class or two she had taken in the room.

Once she reached the door, Twilight clasped a purple hand around the handle—but then, giving it a moment more thought, she leaned her head close to the glass of the window on the door, peeking around the blinds as best she could. Although she couldn’t see much, she was able to spy a row of chairs at the back wall of the room. Empty chairs. Raising an eyebrow, she tried the door handle. It pushed down, but an experimental pull didn’t make it budge at all. Biting her lip, Twilight waited a moment—and then knocked lightly on the glass.

She could hear a chair creaking inside, and then the sound of loafers on wood. Then, the door swung open in front of her. “Yes?” a voice creaked—a voice belonging to a decrepit man who stood nearly a head taller than Twilight, seeming to tower over her as she stood at the door. Afraid to look up, she instead became well-acquainted with his tweed jacket and deep violet tie.

“Ms. Sparkle, my eyes are up here,” he droned, and with that Twilight’s gaze snapped upwards to meet him straight in the eyes. He didn’t look irritated—rather, bored.

“Um… hello, Mr. Donkey,” Twilight managed to get out, hoping she’d gotten the teacher’s name right. She could almost see her face reflected back at her in the shiny black surface of his toupee.

He sighed. “Please, Cranky will do.”

“Er, Cranky then.” Twilight gulped. “H-How are you doing?”

The teacher squinted. “Ms. Sparkle, I’m happy to help with whatever you need me for—as long as you cut to the chase and stop wasting both of our time.” He said this sternly, impatiently—but with no particular sort of malice.

“Um… I wanted to ask about one of my friends, if that’s alright.” Twilight hoped he couldn’t hear the nervousness in her voice.

Cranky laughed. “Yes, I figured. I know I haven’t had you in any of my classes, Ms. Sparkle, but I’ve gotten to know a few of your friends quite well over the years. Quite the dramatic troupe you’ve stumbled into, hmm?”

“Something like that,” Twilight replied, eyes shifting to the side. In more ways than one…

“Come into the classroom.” He stepped back and gestured with his arm. “I need to sit down, anyway… spending so much time on my feet isn’t good for an old fart like me.”

Twilight followed Cranky inside, watching as he took a seat at the desk in the front of the classroom. Not quite sure where she was expected to go, she stepped in and took a seat at a chair in the front of the classroom. Not that she had many options; the room was almost completely bare but for a circle of chairs that lined the edge of the room. There weren’t even desks attached to any of them; the only flat surfaces in the room were Cranky’s desk and a table on the back wall. The wood floor of the room was scuffed and scratched, with very evident marks where the feet of the chairs had been scraped across its surface.

“So, Ms. Sparkle, what exactly did you want to ask about?” Cranky was now sitting at his desk, looking across the stacks of papers to where she sat.

“Erm, it’s about Sunset,” Twilight replied meekly.

“Ah, Sunset Shimmer.” Cranky nodded. “One of my favourite students, although she did have a tendency to cut class. I remember the administration trying to address that little issue with her… though I’m not sure it made much of a difference. Still, it was a joy having her in our productions the last couple of years. Great actor.”

“A-and this term?” Twilight asked, even though she could already tell what the answer was.

“Oh, Ms. Shimmer didn’t enroll for a drama class this spring,” Cranky replied, leaning back in his seat. “I’m a bit disappointed, but it’s not uncommon; students usually have certain graduation requirements they need to fill near the end of their time here, and my classes don’t always fit into the schedule.” He sighed. “Though, I’m a little surprised you didn’t know that… I’d have thought you girls would know all about each other’s schedules.”

“Oh, heh…” Twilight shrugged, flashing him a half-hearted smile. “I must have just gotten confused with last term.”

“I see,” Cranky said, though his expression remained hard to read. “So, is that all? You probably have a class you should be getting to, no?” He looked up at the clock, studying its hands for a moment before looking back down to the girl with that same bored look he’d had when he first opened the door.

“Er, right.” Twilight swiftly stood up, looping her backpack back around her shoulder. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” Cranky said, waving a hand after her. Twilight let the door close on its own behind her, clicking softly into place just as her shoes tapped out onto the hall tile.

And, even more than before, the hall was empty. Twilight started walking—slowly, to mask the sound of her footsteps. She made her way north, toward the front hall. As she passed a water fountain, she noticed a green-haired girl in a brown sweater who she’d never seen before, curled up with a sullen expression beside a trash can. Even though the student didn’t even seem to react to her presence… Twilight couldn’t help but nervously shuffle past, not stopping or looking back until she had pushed open one of the school’s exterior doors and slid her way outside.

The warm rays of the afternoon sun embraced her, and for a moment she forgot that she was even supposed to be in class. She stepped forward on the concrete, moving quickly past the front of the school and over to the parking lot. And then, seeing a familiar face, she froze. Almost instinctively, Twilight ducked down behind a bush.

Sunset Shimmer was standing at a sidewalk corner across the street, seemingly waiting for cars to pass so she could cross. As there was finally an opening, Sunset crossed and rounded the corner, walking out of sight. Twilight stood up and took a deep breath before brushing herself off and starting to walk towards the far side of the parking lot.

Twilight followed closely behind for half a dozen blocks—close enough that she could still keep watch on Sunset, but far enough that she would generally be out of sight if the girl looked back. And look back she did; her friend seemed inexplicably antsy, gaze not focused in any one direction for long. A few times, Twilight had to quickly duck behind a bush or a building to keep from being seen. Still, it was not a difficult walk, all things considered. And once Sunset Shimmer had made it to her destination, it got even easier, since there was nobody to duck away from—but Twilight stood stock still at the street corner as she watched the other girl step into the red sliding doors of the building.

“CVS?” Twilight murmured to herself. “Why would she...?” Then she heard a honk to her side—and shaking herself to attention, she realised she had stepped into the middle of the crosswalk and then just stopped there. “Sorry!” she called to the irritated-looking driver of the car, and she hurriedly shimmied across the street.

As she approached the side of the building, Twilight could see in the windows of the store—and she caught a glimpse of Sunset’s fiery hair as the girl made her way from the entrance to the aisles. Twilight looked back and forth to make sure nobody was watching her, and then she ducked into the bushes that flanked the siding. Peeking up through the window, she noted that Sunset seemed to be making a beeline for one aisle in particular—although from that angle, Twilight couldn’t quite make out the sign above it.

So, heart pounding hard in her chest, she waited. Sunset went out of view for a few minutes—or at least that’s what Twilight phone said, as she checked it over and over. It felt like hours, though, and Twilight let out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding when she saw Sunset re-emerge from the other end of the store, walking over to the registers. She couldn’t quite see what the girl had put down on the counter, but it was a couple items—and as the cashier, an older woman, scanned them one by one, she could see Sunset tapping her foot on the ground nervously.

Once the items had been scanned and Sunset had forked over a few bills, Twilight watched as she scooped the items up and threw them into her backpack. She ducked down as Sunset turned back towards the front of the store, and listened as the doors slid open to let the girl through. She heard a few footsteps, and then… Sunset stopped. Twilight gulped, closing her eyes tightly, bracing for impact—but nothing came. She just heard a rustling of paper and then the sound of boots on concrete carried on, quieter and quieter until it was masked completely by the cars whooshing by.

Cautiously, Twilight stood up and leaned her head to the side, just in time to see Sunset rounding a corner. Perfect. Shuffling out of the bushes, Twilight brushed herself off once she was out on the sidewalk. And once she was standing there, she could see what the rustling had been: a scrap of paper lay at the top of a trash can right outside the sliding doors of the store. She tried her best to nonchalantly amble over to get a closer look, but the scuffling of feet nearby made her stop in her tracks.

She turned to see a jacket-clad passerby walking down the sidewalk towards her, shooting her an odd look. All Twilight could do was grin sheepishly and wait for the stranger to move along, which they did after a few uncomfortable moments of staring. As soon as they rounded the corner, she moved quickly before anyone else could walk by; she snaked her hand around behind her, and caught the piece of paper between her fingertips, watching the passing cars the whole time. Humming to herself, she jammed the paper into her pocket and started walking in the other direction, hoping that nobody was watching her but now feeling too anxious to actually look.

Twilight didn’t slow her brisk pace until she was back at Canterlot High. She wasn’t quite sure why she had walked back there—and was asking herself this as she paced around by the parking lot—but she didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go for the time being. It was only 3:15, as her phone kept reminding her, and she wasn’t supposed to be at Sunset’s until four. And though she was sure her friend wouldn’t mind if she showed a little early, she didn’t want to catch her off-guard.

Plus, Sunset still hadn’t texted Twilight her address. Which was why she kept checking her phone.

With a sigh, Twilight finally stopped pacing, stepping over to a bench to sit down. And, as she sat, she heard the paper in her pocket crinkle once more—and she realised she’d forgotten all about it. She pulled it out and impulsively started to flatten it out with her thumb. Then, her eyes settled on the middle, where it listed the items purchased. And there were just two.

Twilight Sparkle raised an eyebrow. Not because what she was seeing was unbelievable or out of the ordinary—because it wasn’t. It was something completely reasonable to buy, something anyone would buy if they needed it. Sure, maybe it was more than necessary, but… maybe she was stocking up?

But the more she stared at the receipt, the less happy she was with that explanation. There had to be something behind it; there was no way Sunset would cut class and leave school early just to go buy this unless she were pretty sick. And she definitely hadn’t seemed so at lunch. Frowning, Twilight opened up the web browser on her phone and did a quick Google search.

As she thumbed down the page, her expression grew more troubled. One link in particular made her so uncomfortable she immediately scrolled past it, and flipped to the next page. But as she glanced through the next set of links—her mind dwelled on the description for that webpage, and her curiosity got the best of her. She clicked back and, taking a breath, tapped on the link. The browser went white as it loaded the page, and—

“Hey, Twilight!”

The lavender girl nearly fell off the bench with how much she jumped, startled by the exclamation. She quickly shoved the phone and receipt in her pocket as she looked over her shoulder.

“O-oh!” Twilight gasped as she saw Rarity and Pinkie Pie walking down the sidewalk towards her. “Hi, girls!” She could feel herself automatically standing up. “How was class?”

“Pretty freaking boring without you there!” Pinkie grinned.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Pinkie does have a point, though. You do have a habit of muttering corrections under your breath from time to time.”

“More like all the time!” Pinkie retorted. Twilight’s cheeks grew red, but if either of them noticed, they didn’t show it. “So, how was your game of hooky? Did you win?”

Twilight smiled, sheepishly. “Er… maybe?” She shrugged.

“I am curious, though,” Rarity interjected. “Why are you still, ah, on campus? I thought you’d just be going home?”

“Eheh… well…” Twilight scratched the back of her head. “Let’s just say I finished pretty quickly, and I came back to wait since I’m going to Sunset’s to study later, and… what are you snickering at, Pinkie?”

Rarity just sighed, and bopped her giggly pink friend with a rolled-up notebook. “I’m sure her mind is just in the gutter again.”

“No,” Pinkie said, wiping away a tear. “I was just thinking about how short Napoleon was!”

“O… kay.” Twilight looked back to Rarity. “Speaking of Napoleon… did I miss anything big in class? Any new projects?”

“Nothing that’s not on the syllabus, and nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” Rarity replied. “But we can go over it at lunch tomorrow if you like.”

“That sounds great—thank you, Rarity.” Twilight pulled her phone out of her pocket, and glanced at the screen. She had a text from Sunset Shimmer—and it was 3:45pm.

“Oh, shoot!” Twilight swore. “Sunset just sent me her address—but I’m supposed to meet her in 15 minutes and it’s going to take me at least a half-hour to walk there!”

Rarity tilted her head. “Need a ride? I was just going to drop Pinkie at the diner before I went home, but I can swing by Sunset’s too.”

“You sure?” Twilight asked. “I don’t want to impose…”

“Oh, heavens no, darling. It would be no trouble.” Rarity paused. “Plus I’ve always been curious to see where that girl lives.”

“Well, alright.” Twilight held up the phone, showing the text with Sunset’s address.

“Ooh, that’s not far from the diner!” Pinkie said. “You girls could come down for some milkshakes if you need to take a break…!”

“Maybe we will,” Twilight mused. “Maybe we will…”

“Huh.” Rarity gazed out the windshield at the building to their right. “It’s…”

“Not much to look at?” Twilight offered.

“I was going to say ‘kind of a dump’,” Rarity said flatly. “But that works.”

“I’m sure it’s… homely?” Twilight shrugged. “Like, in the British sense.”

“Uh-huh. Well, have fun.” Rarity hummed, watching as Twilight unbuckled her seatbelt. “Say, are you two an item?”

Twilight froze, letting go of the seatbelt. “Wh-what?”

“You know, are you dating?” There was a twinkle in Rarity’s eye.

“N-no! Not at all,” Twilight managed to get out, though her jaw felt nearly immovable. She swallowed. “What even gives you that idea?”

Rarity just tapped her temple with a finger. “Ladylike intuition, darling. But I believe you.” She sighed. “I just with one of us would hurry up and start dating, just so I can fawn over their relationship! It’s been so looooong…”

Twilight just laughed—though it was a bit of a hollow laugh—and opened the door. “You’re such a romantic, Rarity,” she said as she stepped out onto the curb. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime!” Rarity smiled. “Now, go on! I didn’t drive you all this way for you to be fashionably late!”

Twilight glanced at her phone. It was 3:56.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, closing the door. And, with a wave through the window, Rarity drove off in her old white sedan—leaving Twilight standing there by herself at the curb.

The lavender girl looked back to the apartment building. It wasn’t that bad, and definitely not a dump. Just a little worn down. It would have looked a little out of place in Twilight and Rarity’s neighbourhood, sure—but not everyone had the luxury of living on the nicer side of town. Especially not if they were an interdimensional transplant. As she walked through the entrance of the building, unconsciously noting the dinginess of the tile floor and the cobwebs in the corners by the ceiling, she wondered how Sunset could afford the place, let alone get her renter’s application approved. How long had Sunset been living here? She made a mental note to ask her friend about it as she reached the dimly-lit first landing of the stairs, and then she kept walking upwards, upwards…

...until she reached the door with a large “4” above it. She checked her phone again to make sure that it was the right floor—and to see that it was 3:59—and then stowed it away, opening the door and stepping into the hall. It was no better lit than the stairwell, and Twilight tried not to think about what the low lighting was trying to hide. She just kept walking, looking at the numbers of the apartments until she came across the one that matched Sunset’s text: 419.

It was a fairly unassuming door, just like all the others. Twilight knocked. And as she did so, she could immediately feel her anxiety spike.

She could hear some scrambling inside. “Oh fuck!” came out muffled through the door, though Twilight could immediately tell it was Sunset. “Uh, just a second!” came Sunset’s voice again, this time louder. More shuffling. A minute ticked by. Then another. Twilight’s heart pounded hard in her chest as she waited.

Then, suddenly, the door swung open. In front of her stood Sunset Shimmer—but a far cry from the Sunset she’d seen at school. Gone was the leather jacket and jeans, and instead she wore the same purple pajamas that she’d worn at any of their sleepovers. And her hair was much messier, too, to the point where it almost looked deliberate.

“Oh, Twilight!” Sunset exclaimed, looking a little surprised. She opened her arms, and pulled Twilight into a tight hug. “How are you doing? No trouble finding the place?”

Twilight gasped for air. “S-Sunset, a little lighter…?”

“Ooh, sorry.” Sunset let go, stepping back. “I, uh, kinda-sorta forgot you were coming, heh.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I kinda figured that out a minute ago. But you’re still up for it…?”

“Yeah!” Sunset smiled, sweetly. A little too sweetly. Twilight blinked. Maybe she was reading too far into things… “How ’bout we set up at the table here in the main room? I just need to get a few things together in my bedroom, but I’ll be right back.”

“Sure!” Twilight said, stepping past Sunset into the room. She watched as the girl closed the door before taking off down a small hall; once Sunset was out of the room, Twilight walked over to the table by the window and took a seat in the corner so she could face the room.

While the main room of the apartment wasn’t quite clean, it didn’t look that unpleasant a place to live. The room itself was fairly featureless, with naked beige walls and a dated-looking light fixture on the ceiling, which wasn’t on. Instead, the light there was came from the smallish window behind her and an orangey light over the kitchen sink. The floor was carpeted—at least until you hit the linoleum of the kitchen—and honestly not that pleasant a carpet; there were off-colour patches in places, probably from spilt liquids, and it looked as if settled deep within it there was a level of dust and dirt that couldn’t be stripped away short of replacing the carpet.

But it was clearly liveable. Although the walls were bare, Sunset had done a few things to make the place look unmistakably hers. The wall to Twilight’s left was taken up mostly by a beat-up mint green sofa, the type of thing that looked lived-in to a fault but only because it looked so comfortable. She could easily imagine Sunset lying there with a book, or on her phone. And by the door there was a hat rack, though instead of hats it held a surprising number of leather jackets. Twilight chuckled; she hadn’t realised Sunset had more than just the one, but there were definitely at least five identical jackets on the rack.

It was then that Sunset reappeared from the hall, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. She saw Twilight’s stare, and followed it to the hat rack before looking back with a smirk. “Never figured out the jackets, did you?”

“Nope,” Twilight replied. She watched as Sunset pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat down with an unceremonious thunk. Now that she was in the light, Twilight could see that Sunset’s face was flushed—and, once more, the bags under her eyes. As Sunset pulled a notebook out of her backpack and set it on the table, Twilight thought she could see her friend’s façade fall just for a second, a moment of uncertain weariness. But as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

“Yeah, people seem to think I keep wearing the same one every day.” Sunset laughed, looking back up at Twilight. “But I’m not that much of a slob. Rarity noticed almost right away, though.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, ’cause she’s all into making clothes and stuff,” Sunset explained. “I guess it’s easier to see the details in something like that when you’re super into it, kinda like I am with music.” She paused. “Or like you are with, uh, every subject in school.”

“Hey!” Twilight crossed her arms in a mock pout. “I am not.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “You’re really going to tell me you’re not really into, oh, I don’t know, history, and physics, and writing, and calculus?”

Twilight laughed nervously. “I, uh… I’m not that great at cooking?”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “That’s an elective, doofus. I think my point stands.”

“I guess…” Twilight sighed. “So, uh, physics?”

“Right, right.” Sunset opened up the notebook before her, thumbing through the pages. “What’s this test on, again?”

Twilight scoffed. “You really shouldn’t have skipped class if you’re not paying attention! Ms. Sherry’s review today was really quite good, and—”

“Hey now, there’s no need to get all on my case about it.” Sunset was now frowning. “I just… had some shit come up. No need to relitigate the past or whatever, it’s behind us.”

Twilight pursed her lips. “Alright,” she said softly. “Well. Then… uh, do you have your textbook?”

“Mhmm,” Sunset hummed, reaching down to pull the hefty volume out from her backpack. “I remember we were doing something on… uh… waves? And sound? Is that right?”

“Oh, good, you’ve actually been paying some attention in class,” Twilight said with a giggle. “Then yeah, open up to chapter 13…”

She started giving a basic outline of what the main points of the unit had been, making sure to take note of what Sunset seemed to nod along with and what she looked bewilderingly confused about. Then, she pointed out where in the textbook the relevant explanations for the stuff Sunset needed to brush up on was, and watched as her friend copied down definitions and equations into her notebook, filling in blank pages.

Twilight smiled, softly. These review sessions had always been for Sunset, really. Despite all of Twilight’s worrying, she knew deep down that she’d ace the test easily; it was Sunset she was more worried about. So she just used them as an excuse to hang out with her friend. Although Twilight had already been attending Canterlot High for a few months now, and settled into her new friend group… she still hadn’t found good ways to hang out with the other girls individually, outside of school. But with Sunset, they quickly found these review sessions—which connected Twilight with this girl who was quite bright, if not studious in the same way, and they complemented each other. Hmmm…

“Do you have a bathroom I can use?” Twilight asked suddenly. Sunset looked up from her page, her face oddly blank.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just down the hall, to the left. Not the right, or else you’ll end up in my closet.” She looked back down, finishing a sentence in her uneven scrawl.

Twilight stood up, pushing her chair back in before she walked across the room and turned the corner, down the hall. It was even darker there than in the main room, and there wasn’t even a light on the ceiling that she could turn on even if she wanted to. To her right, as Sunset had mentioned, there was a closet, with those distinctive wooden shutter doors. And at the end of the hall was a white door, presumably leading to Sunset’s bedroom. But Twilight turned to the left, closing the bathroom door behind her with a click.

Back in the main room, Sunset Shimmer was flipping through pages. She settled on one with a diagram of a sine wave, and she squinted, trying to make out the blurry numbers. Her lungs felt like lead as she took a deep breath, pushing it out with some effort. As she scribbled the numbers down, the tip of her pencil looked a lot thicker than usual—and she kept looking up to make sure she got the right ones. “This was a mistake,” she muttered to herself. A mistake… missed take. You miss all the shots you don’t take. Urgh.

Her stomach in teraflops, her mouth was parched. She stood up to get a glass of water, and could feel her knees shake as she footed her way to the kitchen. Her hands felt numb, and she knew she was moving too slow, but so what? There was no one around to see her, and…

Oh, but Twilight. Wait.

Sunset turned her head rightways, down the hall, and could see a crack of light on the edge of her bedroom door. Hum. She slid down the flat hallway, toes tapping carpet in the dark, until she got right up to the door and looked through its openness which definitely had not been like that before.

Oh.

Oh, no. No.

“Twilight…” Sunset breathed, looking across the room to the desk where Twilight had lit a lamp, where Twilight was crouched on the floor, where Twilight was holding a small glossy cardboard box that fit neatly in her hand, with a little red rectangle on the front. A box from the pile... the pile that was spread all over the floor between her desk and bed—

Twilight looked up at her with those large, beautiful, deep purple eyes. “Sunset, I…” She looked distraught.

Well, of course she was distraught! Dumbass! Quick, quick… “It’s… it’s not what it looks like.”

Twilight frowned, and maybe it was just the light but she looked on the verge of tears. “Are you… like, right now…?” Obviously uncomfortable with even the question—let alone the answer—she left the rest unsaid. But it didn’t need to be said, and Sunset’s momentary silence confirmed as much.

“Why… why are you in my room.” That’s all Sunset was able to come up with, and she said it so flatly it didn’t even sound like a question. Twilight dropped the box she was holding and stood up, brushing herself off.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Sunset. I was just… I don’t know, concerned, and—”

Sunset closed her eyes, and took a breath. She wasn’t sure if she was wobbling, but she felt like it. “Twilight, I think you should go.”

“Wh-what?” Twilight blinked. “But—physics—test—studying—you’re on drugs! I can’t—”

“Twilight!” Sunset repeated, a little louder than she intended. Her friend’s face paled. “Please!” She could feel tears streaming down her hot, hot, flush red cheeks, but she couldn’t do anything about that. She still hadn’t gotten that drink of water. Putting her hand over her face, she stepped aside.

But instead of leaving the room as Sunset intended, Twilight just stepped up to the door frame and started to wrap her arms around the girl.

Immediately, Sunset recoiled, stepping back into her bedroom. “No! Get the fuck away from me!” She choked on her words. Twilight looked like she’d seen a ghost. “N-no, wait, I’m sorry—” Sunset started to stammer, but it was too late. The lavender girl had already swept herself out of the hallway, and by the sound of it, she’d thrown her shit in her backpack as fast as possible and run out the door, slamming it behind her.

Just like that, Sunset was alone. Just like she’d asked for.

And she hated it.

Author's Notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RokyGRQP0no