“Somewhere, deep down in my heart.” The mare paused, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I still love you!”

The stallion began to cry. His eyes closed in deep thought as tears rolled down his cheeks. Great, sorrowful sobs escaped him, and he raised a hoof to wipe away the discarded liquid from his face. He moved closer to the beautiful mare in front of him, embracing her in a tight, comforting hug. She hugged him back in equal measure, and the pair simply sat on the tiled floor, weeping and holding each other simultaneously.

And there, right there, is the perfect picture, Featherweight mused.

Featherweight was not a stallion of many words, nor was he one of romance. He took photos, and that was that. Perhaps he wasn't a master of love at the moment, but that didn't mean he couldn't be one day. When that day came, and it would eventually, he would be ready. Ready for that perfect picture. For now, though, he would have - to watch these romantic films. Sometimes, he simply needed inspiration — motivation, if you will and these cheap, fake love-stories would be there to fill in that patch previously left unfilled.

He sat back in his retractable chair, munching on the salted, cinema popcorn from the box in his scrawny hooves. Initially, Featherweight went to the cinema to be entertained; the young stallion had the time to do so, and it just seemed different to his otherwise boring lifestyle. As his list of watched films grew, however, he began taking notes. He started studying the films, not just for his amusement, but for knowledge. Featherweight even had the initiative to buy a new notebook and quill to scribble down any ideas or hints.

He was just lonely.

Featherweight looked upon those already in love with distaste. Not for any rational reason, but just because that was exactly what he wanted. So, he came to this cinema every weekend, writing down methods and phrases that he would never even have the guts to use. It was a pathetic, useless cycle, and what was worse was the fact that Featherweight knew it. There just wasn't a thing he could do about it.

The film was over, and the credits had begun rolling. Featherweight had taken no new notes this film, so he mentally scolded himself as he joined the crowd exiting through the doors. His eyes were accustomed to the familiar darkness of the cinema, explaining why the light blinded him as he left. The stallion decided to freshen up.

Featherweight quickly found the toilets and began splashing cold tap water into his face. He looked back at himself through the mirror. Somehow, he had retained that pathetic 'runt' look from his childhood. His limbs were more gangly than ever before and contained no big, strong muscles like the ponies in the films. His buck teeth, like when he was a foal, extended from his mouth. In an exaggerated way, he looked very similar to a beaver.

“No wonder...” he said to himself before drying his rather unusual features. Featherweight quickly exited, and was about to leave the cinema entirely when a familiar face came into view.

Sweetie Belle, his first crush, was standing at the back of the ticket queue.

Well, he liked to call her his first crush. 'First' left room for others, but seeing as though there weren't any others for the time being, it seemed relatively futile. The mare hadn't noticed Featherweight's presence just yet, so he had time to plan. This could be his perfect moment for his perfect picture. All he needed was confidence and precision — the same requirements for any sort of mission like this...

“Oh, hey, Featherweight! Long time, no see!”

Shoot.

“Hi, Sweetie Belle. How... how are you?” He responded in his version of coolly. Featherweight moved closer to the unicorn, considering his next move. As he got closer, he began to notice her more intricate details. She had grown up, now, and even though she looked so very different, Featherweight could still recognise her. A beautiful, well-kept mane, a set of sparkling teeth and, by Celestia, those eyes! Like two, green emeralds embedded in her face, the pair simply glistened in the sunlight as they looked directly at Featherweight, almost forcing him to avert his gaze.

“Eh, not too bad, myself.” Sweetie Bell shrugged. “Just going to see A Mare's Tale. How was it?”

“Well, uh, I didn't go see that,” he lied. He was just trying to converse without having to think about the beautiful mare before his very eyes. “B-but, if you like, and I'm not saying you have to, I-I can come with you...” Where did that even come from? No doubt he'd be rejected, anyway.

When Sweetie Belle giggled, Featherweight could've sworn his heart skipped a beat. It was just such an innocent, sweet laugh. The butterflies in his stomach only grew in speed. “I was only joking!” The mare explained. “Didn't take you for a romance type. Sure, why not? We need to catch up — I haven't seen you in at least... two years, right?”

“Precisely one year and eight months,” the young stallion corrected. Sweetie Belle frowned slightly, but then laughed. Featherweight, on the other hoof, took to hiding his fiercely-blushing cheeks. How could he be so foolish? Curse his meticulousness... that just sounded downright creepy, but somehow, Sweetie found it funny. Perhaps it was just to humour him — to lull him into a false sense of security before pulling the plug.

“So, are you going to buy your ticket, or what?”

Featherweight snapped back into reality. He turned to face the ticket seller, who was eyeing him up very suspiciously. Almost like he recognised him. “Two tickets to A Mare's Tale, my good stallion.”

“Hey, didn't you just see that?”

“N-no, I assure you.” Featherweight tilted his head towards Sweetie Belle, trying to indicate his situation as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. The steely-eyed worker looked him up and down several times before nodding.

“That'll be 10 bits, please.”

When Sweetie Belle objected, Featherweight simply shook his head. Regardless of how shaky he was with mares, he still had his manners. Delving into his wallet, he quickly found the money and handed it over to the seller.

Before long, they had both sat down in the cinema. As usual, the adverts played on for seemingly longer than the film, especially when Featherweight didn't know quite what to say. The pair had gone quiet.

“So, how's life been for the last twenty months?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Um, not too bad, I suppose. Trying to become a professional photographer, but I just can't get it going. Other than that, not much. What about you?”

“My singing is going fairly well. I don't have much free time anymore. Even so, it's still pretty fun.” Sweetie flashed him a sweet smile. Oh, but how could he forget her singing? That hypnotising, wondrous voice of hers. No doubt she was very successful — any pony with a talent like hers had to be. Birds would even hush and listen, her voice was just that beautiful.

“Ahem. The film's starting.”

For the second time that day, Featherweight had been abruptly brought back into reality by Sweetie Belle. No doubt he looked like a complete idiot. If only he could tell her his true feelings — what he would give for such a gift. Featherweight looked around to find Sweetie Belle putting on a pair of glasses. This was his moment. The moment in which the cowards were separated from the colts.

“Why... why do you hide such beautiful eyes behind that metal frame?”

“I, uh, need them to see,” Sweetie Belle said, taking the pair off and looking at them. “My sight went pretty bad over these past couple of years, but thanks, anyway!” She beamed at him again, although it was slightly less jovial than last time. Featherweight felt all jittery; he had made his first compliment! It was all thanks to that film he had watched last weekend... Wait.

Oh, no.

“Listen, Sweetie Belle, I'm sorry. I-I just didn't know! It's been so long, and I never even thought or realised—”

“Whoa, calm down there, Featherweight. No worries — I'm totally over it,” she said, stopping him mid-sentence.

Well, that was a relief, he thought. Featherweight could foresee the end of all this, and by his calculations, it didn't seem very happy. After their little discussion, both went silent to watch the film. Featherweight didn't know quite what to expect after watching exactly the same movie only minutes ago. Perhaps he could take notes this time around. No, that would be too risky. What if Sweetie Belle found his little book of love guidance? The result would be terrifying. For the sake of his already slimming reputation, Featherweight slid the little book safely into his saddlebag.

The film carried on as it had before. Not the best movie Featherweight had ever seen, but it certainly wasn't the worst. A mare, who had cut all ties to her past for questionable reasons, decided to move to Manehatten. After days of solitude, she finally began to socialise with the local ponies. For a while, things seemed to brighten up. She found a new love, one who was willing to give her the space she so desperately needed. Soon, however, her past caught up with her.

The one who had once loved her soon discovered her dark secret, and, being unable to forgive, he deserted the mare. After living out her woes in a drink-infused state, she decided to set things straight. So, finally catching up with her one, true love, she confesses everything: her entire situation, her life up to this point — even the reason for hiding her dark secret. Her voice trembling, she speaks her final explanation.

“Somewhere.” Featherweight looked around at Sweetie Belle, who was seemingly holding back tears. “Deep down in my heart.” Sweetie Belle, now noticing the newfound attention, stared back at Featherweight with the same curiosity. She interlocked hooves with him, taking the stallion by surprise. Despite the novelty of the motion, Featherweight fully welcomed it. Somehow, this didn't feel awkward. Somehow, this felt right.

The pair turned their collective attention back to the big screen. “I still love you!” Said the stunning, totally-abnormal actor for the second time that day. This time, however, Featherweight had a better picture beside him. Sweetie Belle's hoof was still entwined with his. He blinked, and it was still there. Once more, and her hoof was still with his own .This was no illusion, nor was it a dream. No matter how flawless or wonderful the film looked like, Featherweight found the perfect picture — his perfect picture — right in front of his eyes.

And with that, the film was over. The light surrounding Featherweight suddenly flicked on, and the whole cinema was filled with light once more. Sweetie Belle had obviously forgotten her place, as she quickly removed her hoof from Featherweight's own with an embarrassed smirk. She murmured a quiet apology before indicating to the exit.

Still, it was a start. For a moment there, Featherweight had seen his perfect picture. Only a glimpse, perhaps, but it was better than nothing, especially as that was what he had before all of this.

The pair then left the cinema, Featherweight narrowly avoiding the suspicious glances from the ticket seller. As they felt the cold chill of the air outside, Sweetie Belle shivered. Featherweight, having noticed this, added a mental note to bring a jacket for next time.

If there was going to be a next time.

“So, uh, whereabouts are you staying?” Featherweight asked, preparing another trick.

“Just around the corner. That little inn on the middle of the street.”

“Do you mind if I walk you back?”

“Not at all!” Sweetie Belle smiled, taking the lead.

Despite the cold, there was still a sense of warmth in the air. The pair walked through the town of Ponyville while talking about the film. Sweetie Belle, however, was the main candidate, while Featherweight simply murmured the occasional 'yes' or 'no' to her speech. He was just too busy thinking about his perfect picture. Could this be it? Was this his chance to find love?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sweetie Belle asked, her voice rife with mirth. Featherweight recoiled in surprise.

“H-how did you know?”

“Well, you've been staring into space for the last minute or so. When I asked about what you thought about the film, you answered with a 'yes'. Pretty obvious, you know?” The mare giggled.

“Heh, sorry...”

“What were you thinking about, anyway?”

“Uh, nothing. Just general thinking. As you do,” Featherweight snapped quickly.

“Sure...” Sweetie Belle said with a wink. “Either way, we're here, now.”

Featherweight looked above the mare in front of him to see the inn. It hadn't changed since the day he was born, not even the paint. When he was young, he hadn't paid much attention to it. The building was just a place the adults went to, and that was that. Right now, however, he had a chance. Sweetie Belle hadn't left, and seemingly had no intentions of doing so just yet. She simply stood on the bottom of the stairs, perhaps wanting something.

“So, are you doing anything tomorrow?” He asked finally.

“Not really. Why, want to do something?”

Sweetie Belle knew exactly what he was after. Just as she was as a filly, Sweetie was always one step ahead of Featherweight. It didn't matter which direction the young stallion went; Sweetie Belle would always be in front.

“Well, how about a walk in the park? Midnight?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It's a date!” Featherweight said. Seconds later, though, he changed his mind. “Well, not a date, but you know, kind of like... Actually, no, it's nothing like a date! I don't even—“

Sweetie Belle smiled confidently. “Like a date,” she corrected.