The stars were coming out early. Twinkling and blinking in the darkness of the coming night, they lit up the sky, creating constellations and interstellar structures all across that dome. They were pretty, all right; pretty in the most objective sense, pretty in that everyone knew pretty to be. They were looking down on the world as the world turned and as the world turned it was looking up at them, too.

There was a shooting star. It drove past the mass of light, leaving behind a trail of fairy dust. It was followed by another, darting just as fast. The two met up in the middle, became one; then they broke off and were racing each other. It was an odd sight to see, and any who saw it would surely talk it to death, until all were done with the sight. It was not every night you saw two comets hurling across in such a lively pattern; the more superstitious, those who read the stars for fate, would have said it meant change was coming, true and immediate change.

For once, they would not have been wrong.

As those stars and those hurling masses were coming and going, so, too, was the young couple out of the Cobalt Crescent. But there was no twinkling between them to light up their world. Their attitudes had changed. Their demeanors had shifted. The joviality that might have been felt, had things played out differently, was gone. All that was left was frustration, anger, and not a little sadness.

“I can’t believe you!” Sugar Belle cried. “I just—how could you?! You and her—”

“It was a one-time thing!” Mac replied just as heatedly. “I don’t see what the big deal is—”

“Yeah, that’s right; that’s all you ever don’t see when you’re with her!”

“What is yer problem with Ink, Sugar Belle? She don’t mean to hurt nobody! She has never hurt nobody! An’ she ain’t one who’s bad-mouthing her over nothin’!”

“Nothing?!”

Sugar Belle whirled on him, and he almost stepped back at the sheer ferocity in her eyes. “I go through all the trouble of making these reservations, to give you a once-in-a-lifetime experience at a super fancy restaurant, only to find out some hussie has already given you that?!”

“Don’t you dare call her a hussie!” Mac roared.

The guards were watching them, and they shifted unsteadily on their feet. They would not step in.

The limo was waiting for them, and they got in, still shouting. The driver was a deaf man named Zed, a quiet and dark man who didn’t care for the vocal tussling going on back. He simply grabbed a whiteboard, wrote something down on it, and then hung it back over his shoulder. Where are we heading? he had written.

Home. Sweet Apple Acres, Mac wrote.

No sooner had he written this and handed the board over that Sugar Belle let out a huff. “Yeah, where Ink is.”

“She’s probably out with Braeburn.”

“Oh, don’t sound so disappointed!”

Zed began to drive as Mac turned to face her. “Y’know, Sugar Belle, I really don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I also know that I don’t in hell appreciate you talking this way ‘bout my friend.”

“Your friend? Your friend?! Friends don’t take each other on dates to the Cobalt Crescent!”

And then it went back and forth like that for a time; the argument was comprehensive, loud, and exhausting. The road was bumpy and every so often Mac would hit his head on the top of the limo, furthering his already increasing frustration. They were nowhere near the house. It would be some time before they were.

As Zed was driving straight, they were talking in circles. It always came back to Ink. Somehow, despite her not being there, she was the topic of conversation for them ever since Mac had come out of Santiago’s office.

And everytime the conversation went to Ink, Sugar Belle’s voice grew louder and louder.

“Every time, Mac! Every time! Somehow, someway, Ink’s always there; and I’m getting sick of it!”

“Sugar Belle, what are you on about—”

“She’s in your house, for one! And I saw you looking back at her that day when we passed by Sugarcube Corner. Of course I tried not to think much of it, but still, it happened! And she’s always on your mind; always on your freaking mind, like some obsession—”

“Don’t,” Mac warned, but Sugar Belle wasn’t listening.

“I mean, my God, Mac! I get that you care for her, truly, I understand, and I commend you for that, but what about me, huh? Don’t you have room in your great big heart for me? Why is it always her? You want to get her gifts, or that poster thing, or whatever, but what about me? I take you out on a nice dinner and yet she somehow crawls her way into our date like— like— like a parasite—”

Later she would say she didn’t mean it like that, that the words were just coming out because her heart was so broken, her head so confused and fuzzy, and that was why she called Ink that. But it was enough for Mac. He went cold silent, his glare so intense it could cut stone, and that shut her up.

A short while later, while Mac was still silent, they reached Sweet Apple Acres. It appeared everyone was out, for all the lights were off. Zed pulled up in front.

“Stop the car,” he said. Of course Zed didn’t hear him, but he could feel the anger and intent behind the vibrations of his grumbling and thundering voice, and so he knew to pull over and stop.

The hour was late and the sky was all dark and there were the stars again. They got out of the car, slowly. Mac walked over to the driver’s window and knocked. Zed rolled the window down. Mac handed him a wad of cash. “Keep the change,” he mumbled, although Zed would never hear. He pointed down the road, signalling for him to go, and after a moment’s hesitation, Zed drove off.

“Mac, what are you—”

“Enough.”

He took a deep breath, his head still roaring with anger and fury.

“Y’know… I really did think you and Ink were gettin’ along real well. Really. I was worried, at first, but she never spoke bad of you, never took offense at your person, nothin’ like that. Y’know why?”

He glared at Sugar Belle, his fists balling up. “Because she’s a nice girl. She may be a bit feisty at times and all, but that could be Gaige’s fault, but she don’t mean harm to most anybody. She’s probably the nicest girl I’ve ever met. And I was happy, y’know; happy that you and her were getting along, weren’t at each other’s throats like how my sisters are with you. She was giving you a chance, Sugar Belle, and so was I.”

“But… but…”

“But here you are, saying these things, insultin’ her to me. How am I supposed to react, Sugar Belle? You think it right to let that kind of stuff slide? It ain’t how I do things, and it ain’t how I’m gonna let you treat Ink. It ain’t right.”

He saw tears in her eyes, and he stopped, suddenly unsure of himself. Why was she crying?

“Why?” he asked. “Why are you being like this, Sugar Belle? What has Ink done to you?”

He was not sure he would receive an answer, but was content, for the moment, to simply wait for one. The air was cool, and he suddenly wished he’d brought a jacket with him.

He turned and faced the door, reaching for the knob with his keys in hand. As he unlocked the door and pushed it open, he heard Sugar Belle sniffle. He turned around, the door held ajar.

“Sugar Belle?” he called. The anger was still in his voice, but it was more subdued, less intense.

“She! She—!”

Her fists balled up, and then suddenly she slapped the ends of her dress and burst out into a hysterical screech. “She isn’t supposed to be yours! I am!”

Mac dropped his keys. He nearly fell back, caught so off-guard by her outburst. Before he could lodge a question, though, she went on.

“Goddamn it, Mac! I’m your girlfriend! I’m the one you’re supposed to be always worried about, the one you’re always supposed to be willing to drop everything for! You’re with me, not her!”

She sucked in a quick breath. “D-don’t you love me, Mac? You do, don’t you? And yet there can’t be room for the two of us, both me and Ink, in your heart. You love me, don’t you? Don’t you? Answer me!”

He couldn’t. He could only stare at her. Slowly her breathing leveled, and though she was still shaking and there were still tears streaming down her face, she said nothing else.

She looked like a sad doll, he thought. A sad doll that had once been loved but now was discarded and was confused. He pitied her, then. It was a sudden surge of pity, the kind you get when you realize what a situation has become when it has become bad, when you see the depths someone has fallen for the first time. Not a complete realization, but a large one at that.

The stars were watching them. Santiago’s words came back.

“I shoulda known better.” The words were out before he had a chance to think. “All you ever thought about was yerself, how you want to be happy, to be loved. It’s not really about me, ever. It’s always about you. An’ the moment someone comes along and gets too close to me, you think, you try and push them out—” He stopped. He was rambling. He didn’t like to ramble. He closed his eyes, shook his head. “Jus’... Jus’ why, Sugar Belle?”

Don’t you love me?

Did he? Here he was, so angry with her; could he say he loved her?

“I shoulda known better than to think you’d change.” Even he was shocked at the blunt honesty in those words.

And, the door still left open, he began to walk away to where the night met the earth.

“I have changed!” Sugar Belle cried. Mac stopped walking away. “I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I know I have! I know it in my heart, in my soul; are you telling me you can’t tell the difference between who I was then and who I was now?”

He turned to face her, face carefully masked beneath his hood, green eyes sharp, piercing, but quietly judging her in that dark gloom. He caught her eyes in his gaze. They were pleading with him. Had she changed at all?

He thought about it. First his mind fell upon that night, that mistake; but then he forced the thought away and thought about the other nights. She had been his whole world back then, and he had given his everything to making her happy. And what had she given him in return? Empty pockets, few compliments, things that you’d find in tales of romantic woe, but what else?

Pain. That was what she had given him in return. After all he had done, she chose…

He looked at her now and tried to match the vision of her then to the one here and now. He thought about what she had been doing.Why was she doing this?

“Why are you doing this?” he asked quietly.

She stared at him, shocked he had said anything, and her voice was robbed of its strength, its convictions. Slowly, she lowered her head as if in shame.

“Because I don’t want to lose you,” she murmured. It was so soft he almost didn’t catch her, but in the dark quietness of the home her words echoed endlessly through the chambers of his heart. “I already lost you once and I didn’t want to lose you again, but…”

“Sugar Belle…”

She looked up at him, and he saw that she had tears brimming. His heart was torn in two. “Sugar Belle, I—” he started, walking back towards her.

“No, I… I get it now.” She shook her head, raising a hand to stop him. “I’m being selfish, Mac. I’m being selfish because I love you so much.” The words caught Mac off-guard.

She stepped forward. “Ever since that night, I’ve thought about you. I’ve thought about what I’d done and I realized I hated myself. I hated hurting you. But worst still, I hated that I still wanted you. But you were gone and I—”

Her voice hitched. “I-I knew it was all my fault, and that I should’ve let you be, but—damn it Mac, I loved you then and I still love you now! I can’t help it!”

And then she was fully crying now. “You have to be the kindest, gentlest soul on this earth, with a heart of gold—and I screwed up and twisted your heart—and yet I still wanted you! Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

She sniffled. “S-So, when I came back, hoping for a fresh start, and when you let me back into your life—I thought things were going to be good, were going to be better. But you were always, always thinking about Ink, talking about her. I thought at first it was because you and she were just good friends, but the way your voice was and your eyes were when you spoke of her—I just—I saw I was losing you. And… I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t, Mac, I just couldn’t, it would tear me apart.”

She reached out to him, reached out from that world only she could see. “I love you, Mac. Truly. It’s crazy and a little scary, but I love you and… don’t you love me, Mac?”

He said nothing, his eyes doubled in size, his mouth agape, his legs locked.

And then, suddenly, in her eyes he saw a mist clear, like a wind had come and blown it all away. The tears were still there, of course, but there was something different. An understanding of something he didn’t understand quite yet. He looked in and looked out and said nothing still.

“I think I answered my own question,” Sugar Belle said quietly.

“Sugar Belle, I…”

“Yes, I see now. I… I see now.”

Her hand came away, fell to her side. And then, she was silent, too.

Mac, cautiously, walked up to her. He looked at her. She would not look back. He looked down the road, then turned and looked back at the house. Then back at Sugar Belle. She still was not looking.

“I have to go,” he murmured, though where he had no idea, and for how long he also knew not. Sugar Belle didn’t respond.

He was already halfway down the road when he looked back, his heart set, his voice gone. She was still standing there, like a sad doll, he thought again. All wound up inside but all gone now. Would she be there in the morning? He didn’t know.

Mac turned back to the road, and walked away.

The house was all dark when Ink finally returned from the hospital. Braeburn had dropped her off a little ways. He wanted to spend some time alone, he had told her, and he had told her this with a small smile. Things would be all right between them, if given time. She was all right with that, she said, and she wished him well.

“I hope things go well for you, too, Ink,” he had said. They’d hugged. Ink wondered if he would try and kiss her, but he never did. He and the carriage had driven off into the night.

She walked up to the home and thought it was odd that it was all dark. She knew Mac would be out tonight, but she thought the other Apples would have been inside. Yet for some reason they weren’t. Perhaps they had gone out to do their own things. Well, then it would be a quiet evening for her, anyway. That was fine.

The door was unlocked.

She cautiously pushed it open, careful to walk heel-toe to avoid making too much noise. There were no signs of a break-in besides the door; no furniture lay strewn about, no glasses destroyed. Nothing had been disturbed inside. She considered flipping on a light switch, but wasn’t sure she wanted to let anyone know she was there.

She stopped in the middle of her tracks when she heard something shuffling above her. Someone was upstairs. Though it could have been any of the Apples, she didn’t want to chance it, and so she grabbed Granny’s walking stick (which she never used) from against the wall and slowly made her way upstairs. The steps didn’t creak, thank God.

Someone was in her room. A little light shone from in there. She approached, the cane in her hands, though she had no idea how to use it. The door was slightly open, and she saw a bent-over figure inside.

She pushed the door open, raising the cane; and then nearly dropped it. “Sugar Belle?”

Sugar Belle turned. She looked dreadful. Her hair had lost its bounciness, and her face was a combination of smeared makeup and tears. Her eyes were red. She tried for a smile, but it barely reached past her cheeks. “Oh. Hi, Ink. What are you holding that cane for?”

Ink lowered it. “I… thought there was an intruder.”

Sugar Belle nodded. “Yes, well, there was an intruder, and it was me, I guess.”

“What are you doing in my room?”

“Dunno,” she said, shrugging. “Just kinda came in here. Wandered in, I guess. It’s a nice room.”

“... it’s a spare one.”

“It’s still nice.”

Ink looked at her. She put the cane against the door. “Hey. Why don’t we come downstairs? I’ll make us some coffee.”

Sugar Belle, after a moment, nodded. They left Ink’s room and came downstairs, where they sat in the dining room while Ink poured them the hot drinks. She returned, gave Sugar Belle her cup, then sat opposite of her.

Both were quiet, enjoying the taste of the beverage. “Cinnamon,” Sugar Belle commented.

“Yes,” Ink said. “Big Mac… he introduced me to it.”

She thought she might frown, but the other girl simply nodded. “Yes. I figured as much.”

“... You guys went tonight, right?”

“Mmhmm.” She brought the drink to her lips.

“How… how did that go? Did you have fun?”

Sugar Belle lowered her cup. Then, she started to cry.

“Oh, no, no,” Ink said, coming over to the other girl. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, Sugar Belle. I didn’t mean—”

“N-no, I-I’m the one who’s sorry,” Sugar Belle interrupted. She choked back a sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

And then, she began to tell Ink all that had happened; all of what had been said, of what had been done, of what had been felt. All of it. All of that sad truth came pouring out of her like a rushing river of emotional baggage. She held onto Ink as they were both taken aback by the river, the one girl more than the other, Ink confused but unwilling to let her go alone. Sugar Belle’s voice carried softly, cries lingering on it as the wind lingered in autumn, the tears telling more than she ever could with just her voice alone.

There was no eloquence in her. No spruced-up facade, no attempt at lying. The pure truth of it all was being pushed out, and Ink could see how it was hurting her. She tried to get her to stop, but Sugar Belle refused, and kept going. She kept going until there was nothing else, until it was all out.

“Oh, God,” Ink murmured at the end. “Sugar Belle, I… I’m so sorry.”

Sugar Belle sniffled. She looked at Ink, and then smiled. “Oh. Oh, Ink… I’ve been such a fool. A silly fool.”

“Don’t say that, don’t beat yourself up—”

“It’s okay, really. I… I see now. He’s lucky to have you, you should know.”

“I’m… I’m sure he regrets everything,” Ink said, floundering around for some rationality. “You and he are great together, and I bet you’ll think of this moment in the future as just another silly argument—”

“Ink, that won’t happen.”

“W-well, sure, now it doesn’t seem like it but—”

“Ink. It’s okay. You… you don’t have to lie to yourself about this. I get it.”

“Sugar Belle—”

Sugar Belle smiled sadly at her. “Oh, Ink… don’t you see? He’s already moved on, and he’s already found someone else to bring light back into his world. He chose you.”

Ink blinked at her. “W-what?”

“He chose you, Ink. His heart did, his mind did; all of him has chosen you. I can see it in the way he looks at you, and how concerned he always is for you, how much he wants to help you.”

She shook her head. “I lost him. I see that now; but you have him, or he has you.”

She tucked her chin to her chest. “It’s funny. I… I changed for him, or tried to. For the most part it worked, until, well, you know. But after all this time, until now, I never realized… never realized that just as I was changing for him, he had changed from the person I knew then. I guess that’s the tragedy of it, isn’t it? We can all try and change for others, to be better, but that means they can change, too.”

She paused. “I guess it’s not really all that funny when I think of it like that…”

Then she looked at Ink. “Please, Ink. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Are you still denying it? Oh, Ink… there’s no point in lying to me or to yourself anymore. We both know it, now. I think we’ve both known it for a long time, but it’s only now that we’ve decided to let the truth out and be itself.”

Ink stared at her. “Sugar Belle…”

The door opened, suddenly, and there stood the rest of the Apples, minus Big Mac. They stared at the two girls in shock. “Sugar Belle? Ink?” Applejack called. “What’s… what’s goin’ on?”

Sugar Belle didn’t turn to her. She was still looking at Ink. She was smiling, too, a tearful smile. Suddenly she pulled Ink close to her for a hug. “Go to him,” she murmured. “He needs you, and you need him.”

“Sugar Belle—”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Ink didn’t know if she believed her. And yet, she knew she could do nothing else for her, now. Something silent had been shared between them, a promise of some sort, an acceptance of some kind.

She got up. She took her coat and hat and scarf. The Apples were watching her, confused but quiet. She looked at them, said nothing. They parted for her. The door was open. She stepped out into the cool night and walked off.