Changing Strings and Other Things

by Sharp Spark

First published 24th of April, 2013

I'm not having the best day. The mark on my hip was just one more problem, but now... I think I'm turning into a pony. And I don't know what to do.

When I discovered the harp markings on my hip, it was just the lowest point in a day that was already at rock-bottom. How was I to know that they would be the first of many changes? Changes that were inexplicable and shocking in scope... and that threatened to strip my of not only my humanity, but my very identity.

This story is inspired by Five Score, Divided by Four, by TwistedSpectrum.

With much editing and assistance from the talented Exuno.

A Million Dead-End Streets

At twenty-five, I'd far outgrown the idea of birthdays as being particularly special occasions. Just another day, with the same capacity to be awful as all the rest. This specific birthday was no different.

It started off with waking up way too early to help my roommate move out, and since we lived on the third floor with no elevator, this was far from an easy task. It didn't help that the guy apparently didn't have any friends, meaning it was just the two of us doing all the work. Including the couch. Sigh.

Thank god we were going down instead of up. The guy was lucky that I was nice enough to help. When I saw him drive away in that U-Haul the only thing I felt was relief. To say that we weren’t close is a bit of an understatement... You go into looking for a roommate with such high hopes and starry eyes! When I had got the place last year, I printed up flyers on cheery, bright-green paper and stuck them around coffee-shops throughout the neighborhood. Looking for roommate! I’m mid-20s, male, friendly, a little disorganized but not messy, love music and would love to have someone else to split the rent!

Maybe exclamation points were overselling it. What I got was a brutally disappointing week of dealing with some serious basket-cases. Which meant in turn that I was desperate by the time the guy showed up, even though in terms of what we had in common... well. We were both male and mid-20s. Theoretically we both liked music as well, but I liked music and he liked noise. This wasn’t some sort of holier-than-thou slam on dubstep or anything. Literally noise. Sigh.

Anyways, so, the short of it was that I was happy to see him go. Unfortunately, it didn't take long to remember that I had a roommate for a reason. As much as he got on my nerves, he also paid half the bills. My meager savings would last me a month at most, so I had to find a new roommate, and fast. I was both cautiously optimistic about an upgrade and scared to death about the potential for someone even worse.

So I fell back on my old standby: Never worry about today what you can put off till tomorrow! I had more important things to do – a look at my own watch showed that we had indeed taken longer than I had expected. I needed to meet Daisy at the Café Sucré a few blocks over in just under a half hour, and a quick check confirmed that a few hours of sweaty labor had not done me any favors.

A shower was necessary. I couldn’t just show up at the Café looking like that!

One frantic self-cleansing later, plus some fraught moments of decision before settling on a grey hoodie and khakis, I was on my way to the Café, lightly jogging while trying not to sweat enough to undo the point of showering in the first place.

So naturally I got there five minutes late. But hey – it was my birthday! If there's one day with a built-in excuse for just about anything, it's your birthday.

I saw Daisy seated at my normal table inside, a booth by the door. Unfortunately, she was in my seat. And given her cheshire-like grin when she saw me walk in, it wasn't on accident. I quickly scanned the place, seeing only the normal lunch crowd, and motioned for her to switch places.

“I thought it was first come first served?” she said, grinning.

“Daisy,” I said. “You know I like—”

“Like what?” she asked, innocently.

“Like that seat,” I said firmly.

She rolled her eyes and got up, switching over to the other side of the booth, and allowing me to collapse in my usual place.

As much as she teased me, Daisy is... Well, she’s just the best. She’s a few years younger than me, but we always got along well. At the moment, she was dressed in jeans and a pink jacket of her own, with some sort of stupid pony thing on the front. She still pulled it off well – with her features and her blonde hair cut short she always looked even younger than she was.

But don’t let looks fool you: she’s the best damn drummer I had ever worked with, alternating between a finely-tuned machine and a force of chaos with two sticks. We had met in a band several years back and hung together afterwards. I had always thought of her as the little sister I never had. Or maybe the big sister, given how she watched my back.

We had stuck together through several further iterations of bands, mostly brought down by my own stubbornness. I’m pretty laid back normally, but when it comes to music, I could be a bit of a perfectionist. To her credit Daisy could keep up with one hand tied behind her back, but the others tended to get tired of my attitude and insistence on trying a particular section for the forty-seventh time.

Plus... I have a bad habit of letting my ambitions outstrip even my own ability. I’d played guitar as far back as my memories go, but practice can only get you so far and there are just those times when I’d be going at a hundred miles per hour and my fingers just couldn’t keep up. Perfectionism is hard to justify when you’re not close to perfect yourself.

But Daisy had stuck with me until I had encouraged her to find some other group that would actually stay together long enough to put out something worthwhile (i.e. a band I wasn’t in). Right now she was in some group called Pineapple Thermite that was a little too saccharine for my tastes, but still they were worth listening to for that drummer. I, on the other hand, had been on hiatus for a while, which was making me feel sort of miserable but was probably for the best.

Anyways: Café.

Back to my normal seat I let out a sigh that was half relaxation and half exhaustion. I looked up again, my eyes flickering through the patrons and coming up empty.

“So, birthday boy,” Daisy said, her smile having returned, “got big plans for today, then?”

“Eh.” I shrugged listlessly. “I’ve got to go see Professor Robards this afternoon. He called me up, excited about something, but you know how he gets.”

“No, no, no. I mean celebration plans. Y’know? Party plans!”

I shrugged again and she frowned at me.

“You know...” she said. “You’re lucky that you have me around so that you don’t just wither away out of boredom. It’s your birthday! That doesn’t just happen every day!”

“Yep, it happens generally about once a year.”

“Exactly,” she said, ignoring my sarcasm. “And thus we’re going to go do something. And I have juuuust the thing.” She smiled widely again, one of those grins that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Those were the grins that presaged plans. And the kind of plans she came up with often ended up with catastrophic messes. And fire. And sometimes catastrophic messes that were on fire.

“Oh, no, wait a minute.”

“Tyyyyler,” she said, drawing out my name. “I just mean that we should get out! Go to a club!”

“You know that’s not really my scene,” I said.

“Make an exception for me tonight.” She winked at me. “And I figured... why not try and get you a date too?”

Gears ever-so-slowly turned in my head. A date? Who did Daisy know that she would set me up with? I think all the girls in her band already had boyfriends. Plus she knew better than to just try and throw me together with some random girl... but wait. She was the one who had specified the Café Sucré for lunch, I had eagerly accepted because... No.

“Daisy, you don’t mean...”

She looked at me, her blue eyes filled with nothing but innocence, but that grin, that devilish grin...

It was that moment that I looked up once again and saw that Brooke was indeed working today. She had just come out from the kitchen door, oven mitts holding a pan of piping-hot pastry for the display case. She was, of course, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, even in an old white apron dotted with stains. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail except for some few escaping strands, breaking free only to be conquered by the heat and moisture of the kitchen, sticking to her forehead. But that only made her features even more accentuated, those serious eyes, that soft mouth set firmly in a line as she concentrated on her work, but always with the hint of blossoming into a smile...

OK. So, I might have had the slightest bit of a crush on this girl who worked at the Café. And perhaps that meant I came in more often than my finances really found necessary, and possibly that was why my favorite seat allowed me to see most of the restaurant, particularly the display case and counter where all the pastries and sweets were kept.

There’s nothing wrong with that! And there’s definitely no reason to ruin perfectly good – if completely impossible – romantic fantasies by messing with the status quo.

Daisy, apparently seeing my face glaze over, nodded with authority. “Don’t worry, Tyler, I’ll take care of this part too!” She swiveled around in her seat and waved excitedly, catching Brooke’s attention and causing one of her perfectly placed eyebrows to raise inquisitively. Having set down her cargo of delectables, she pulled off her oven mitts and headed our way.

“Daisy!” I whispered in an urgent tone. “This is a bad idea. I am perfectly fine and do not need you to help.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Truuust meeee.”

Brooke suddenly appeared at our table and I smiled nervously, my eyes skittering around, not wanting to look at her, because I knew I’d stare. But then I suddenly realized that not looking at her is also weird, right? I compromised by looking at a point over her right shoulder.

“Uh. Um. H-hi,” I said. Smooth.

“Hiya Twitchy,” she said, teasingly. Yes, I had tried to talk to her a few times before. No. It did not go particularly well. Fortunately, she seemed to think I was funny instead of a total creep. I noticed that my fingers were indeed tapping on the table in an erratic rhythm of their own accord, and willed myself to stop. She thankfully didn't seem to notice, and was looking at Daisy instead. “Did you get a girlfriend?” she asked.

“N-no, uh, this is uh,”

Daisy jumped in, saving me. “Nope! Tyler is still single and eligible. Rawr! In fact, it’s his birthday today!” OK. Or, she poured a bucket of water on a drowning man.

Brooke clapped her hands together. “You don’t say! It’s my birthday too!” She smiled beatifically and I thought I would melt right there. “I’ll have to get you a cupcake. What do you like? Chocolate, vanilla, mint, raspberry...”

“M-m-mint” I said (oh my god I will save this cupcake forever) but Daisy immediately raised a hand.

“Nope!” she said cheerfully. “What you should do is come with us to celebrate tonight, then! We’re going to a club later on, are you interested?”

“A club?” Brooke said. She tapped a finger on her chin. “Well... I don’t know if I have anything appropriate to wear but... Hey, I don’t have any other plans. Your birthday is only once a year, right?”

“Exactly!” Daisy said. “Oh, and... by the way. Do you happen to be dating anyone yourself?” Daisy wiggled her eyebrows in a way that was meant to be suggestive but turned out fairly silly.

Brooke’s own face flushed red, and I felt the heat rising to my own cheeks. She glanced at me for the briefest of seconds, then back to Daisy. “Nope, I’m single,” she stated surprisingly calmly and cheerfully, despite her blush. “Uh, let me give you my number.” In a flurry of action, she pulled a pad from an apron pocket and scrawled out a phone number on it, handing it to Daisy. “I’ll be off at five. Give me a call with the details?”

Daisy nodded, and Brooke retreated back to the pastry counter, my eyes following her all the way back until she disappeared into the kitchen again.

“Who is the best friend?” Daisy said smugly.

“You are the best friend,” I replied. “Couldn’t I get the cupcake too though?”

“Don’t be greedy,” Daisy said, giggling.

At that point things had shifted from “surprisingly OK” to “best day ever”. Sure, Brooke had spent the rest of the time back in the kitchen, working on something or other, but I wouldn't let that dampen my spirits. Unfortunately, there was a lot of day left. After finishing up lunch at the Café with Daisy, I headed out and started walking to the University.

It was a bit of a trek away, but I was pretty used to it by now. I had only just started back in school the previous year, working on a Master’s degree, out of a general dissatisfaction after having my music career run aground and being sick and tired of working retail. Thankfully, I had made it in, even though student loans were one more weight on my shoulders. The only way I was managing was due to Prof Robards giving me a position on his research team that paid well and fit in with my otherwise eclectic school schedule.

Beats me why the guy was so nice, but I wasn’t going to argue. The work itself was actually pretty fun, though it could be a little dry given that most of the time I was sifting through various bones and artifacts. Theoretically I was trying to identify and preserve the stuff that had some sort of archaeological merit. Which... yes, sounds really cool, but you end up looking at a lot of chicken bones that some dog buried and then a kid found and sent in to be checked. Any of the really cool stuff I generally had to pass off to the more knowledgeable research assistants or risk doing more harm than good.

I got to take home a whole bunch of neat arrowheads though!

Like I said, it paid the bills, and I had a lot of bills. I had been talking to Prof Robards about maybe focusing more on the field and directing my studies that way – right now I was just working on a Master of Liberal Studies, which is to say a Master of Would You Like Fries With That, but it gave me the freedom to take any classes I wanted. I was just a little worried that a decision to pursue something further in that field would be me taking the path of least resistance once again, not the result of any real passion for the work.

When I arrived at the campus, it was already midafternoon, and I knew that Prof Robards was prone to skipping out on the lab and just hanging out at his office on sunny days like this. I headed straight there.

To be fair, he has an awesome office. Corner room, fourth story, great view of all of campus. And his building had an elevator. Sure enough, I could tell he was in from the door being open, and made my way inside without hesitation.

The interior was more of a shock. Prof Robards was many things and a great teacher, but organization was not his strong suit. All the wall space that wasn’t composed of window instead housed bookcases filled with books, trinkets, artifacts from previous research and gifts from former students.

But today, things were different. Rather than their normal overflow, they were practically bare – a travesty. I could swear a tiny dust tumbleweed blew across a shelf between the only two remaining volumes. And his desk wasn’t covered in the traditional mounds of paperwork; it had only a few neat stacks, currently in the process of being packed away into a briefcase by the Professor himself.

Upon my entry, and seeing my aghast expression, Prof Robards gave me what was meant to be a reassuring nod, ceasing his packing and stepping around the table to clasp my shoulder.

“There you are, Tyler, good chap,” he said. “And I was beginning to be concerned that we wouldn’t be able to speak in person before I had to leave.”

“Leave?” I said. As unorganized as the Professor could be, he still knew how to keep a schedule. If it was just a conference somewhere, why wait to mention it until now?

“Yes, yes,” he said. “I have good news and bad news. Unfortunately, the good news primarily pertains to myself and the bad news is in closer relation to your own endeavors.”

I just frowned and waited for him to continue.

“Ah, well, you see. I have been offered an opportunity to consult at a recently discovered site in what is modern day Qatar. Tremendously exciting stuff – an important find that could have some implications as to how we understand the societal structure of the tribes of—” He paused at my expression. “Ahem. The long and short of it is that I’m leaving immediately, along with several of my upper-level graduate assistants. Unfortunately, that means the lab staffing will be in a state of flux.”

“Flux?” I repeated. “Wait, so, what does that mean for me?”

“I hate that it comes down to this, but unfortunately it means your position may no longer be available. Professor Whitfeld will be taking over my advisory duties for the duration of my absence...”

I grimaced. Whitfeld.

God, I don't know what I did to the guy, but ever since we first met he had it in for me. It certainly didn't help that after a hellish year in one of his classes, I had made it fairly clear that the animosity was mutual. I think he assumed that I wasn't serious enough about the field, which I found insulting. Sure, I wasn't certain if this was what I wanted to do with my life, but I still put in 100% just like everyone else.

“Oh, don’t worry, my boy,” Prof Robards continued. “Even though he has stood firm on not allowing any non-departmental research assistants, I put in a word with him about trying to find you a position somewhere else on campus. Swing by his office and have a chat, maybe you two can work something mutually beneficial out.”

I rolled my eyes, turning my head as to not let Prof Robards see. “What about you?” I said. “When will you be back?”

“Shouldn’t be more than two, three years. There’s just so much to do!” He laughed with a jolly tone that did nothing to lift my own spirits. No job meant no money and I didn’t think I had a chance in hell at finding something that paid comparably. And Whitfeld wouldn’t help, that’s for damn sure.

I faked a fairly convincing smile and slipped out as Prof Robards turned back to his desk, already jumping right into another rambling discussion of the project. I couldn’t handle listening to it. I had other things on my mind.

The trip back home I spent wrestling with various scenarios, rejecting each in turn. Maybe if I begged Whitfeld? I’d rather live on the streets. What if I did something different, maybe start another band? Cause that worked out so well before, and what I really need is more short-term costs. What if I had a rich uncle who suddenly passed away? ...I wish, but I'd prefer to not both gain and lose family just for the sake of bailing me out of my problems.

Once I got back to the apartment, as soon as I unlocked the door and walked in, I remembered the other complication. The living room looked an awful lot larger without a sofa. And now was definitely not the time to be paying the full rent for a two-bedroom. But my spirits were so low, I couldn’t even bear to start work on looking for someone else. I needed to relax and get my head together.

I trudged into my own room, stepping over a pile of probably-clean laundry. It was small and definitely full, all available wallspace plastered with posters of old bands. My bookcase was there as well, albeit 90% CDs. Even with the mp3 revolution, I had a soft spot for physical media. I’d probably even be into vinyl, had I not been already concerned about the cost of my collections.

But here was what I was looking for. I grabbed my guitar and sat down on my bed with a deep sigh. Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, or so they say. I wasn’t feeling particularly savage, but it truly did calm me down, as I idly began to strum familiar chords.

The clock on my desk caught my eye. 4:52. To think, twenty-five years ago, at just about this exact time, I came into this world. Where would I be in another twenty-five? Hell. Where would I be in a month?

I glared at the clock, thoughts roiling in my mind, before its blinking digital image blurred. My fingers moved, almost subconsciously, picking out a melody.

A melody... that I had never heard before. It was strange, and beautiful.

Sure, I got flashes of inspiration, like anyone else, but this particular song flowed out of me pure and undiluted, without any false notes or moments of hesitation.

Yet, I had never heard it before, of that I was completely sure.

It was unlike any other experience I had ever had.

Suddenly, a finger faltered and a jarring note broke the spell. My eyes snapped back in focus and I saw the clock again. 4:57. Had I really spent five minutes zoned out? I shook my head as if to clear out the cobwebs, and tried to replicate that melody I had just played.

For the life of me, I couldn’t remember how it went.

After more playing began to frustrate me because of my inability to recreate my zen state, I set aside my guitar. Tired and irritable, I sat back for a moment trying to think about some way to solve my many problems. But my train of thought slipped away as I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Up until someone woke me by banging rather loudly on my front door. Rubbing my eyes, I looked down at my phone, which had about twenty texts from Daisy on it. Of course.

I flicked through them, tapping up a response as I walked to the apartment’s door. <Look Daisy, I don’t know if I can do this, particularly today...> She had her heart in the right place, but I didn't need more stress right now. I could already imagine making a fool out of myself in front of Brooke, or saying something wrong and having her hate me forever, or...

I paused that line of thought. Daisy would be upset, but this was probably for the best...

Then someone pounded on the door again and I realized I was standing right in front of it. Oh, right. I looked up from my phone, message still unsent, and opened it to find myself face to face with... Daisy.

Oh, hell.

She was dressed in some sort of sparkly silver top and a miniskirt, along with some ridiculous boots, and her hair somehow stuck up and out in every direction, like she had put her finger in an electrical outlet.

I groaned. “Daisyyy...”

“Nope!” she said, firmly. “No excuses. Or, actually,” She smiled deviously and stepped aside, “if you don’t want to go, you have to tell her yourself.”

Behind her I saw Brooke waiting in the hall. It was the first time I had really seen her outside the restaurant, wearing normal clothes. She wasn’t all-out like Daisy was, but whoo. If I had it bad when she was in an apron, the sight of her with her hair down and comfortably dressed in a purple blouse and jeans just about did my heart in. She waved at me and I thought at least I would die happy.

“Guh. Uh. B-b-but. Clothes,” I stammered, making a cogent point.

Daisy looked me up and down, noting that I was still wearing the hoodie and khakis from before. “Not ideal, but it’ll do.”

Brooke spoke up. “I think you look fine, Twitchy.” I could feel the goofy smile float across my face. Sure, she was still calling me “Twitchy” but baby steps, right?

“Now let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Daisy grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the apartment, barely giving me time to lock up before we were gone in a whirlwind.

The club was as clubs are. Which is to say: loud, dark, and full of drunk people. Given the circumstances, and given my propensity to break out into garbled stutters when under the effects of acute Brooke exposure, I figured that it wouldn’t hurt for me to join in, and I got drinks for myself and the girls. Money problems be damned: It was suddenly the best day ever again.

Sure enough, it did help somewhat, and the comparative darkness and loud music meant I could sneak glances at Brooke without being totally creepy. She seemed to be having a good time, albeit a little out of place compared to Daisy and some of the other people there to really party.

Before long Daisy ditched us to go dance, which was actually probably pretty sweet of her. Good drummer best friend. It left me and Brooke awkwardly standing around though, causing me to wrack my brain for a way to start a conversation. We were in a dark corner that was less crowded, and even though the booming music was ever-present, it was subdued enough there to be able to talk without having to completely shout.

I started to say something sappy about her eyes or similar but the logical part of my brain shot that down pretty fast. Not enough liquid courage. “You uh want another drink?” I said.

She smiled and shook her head no, and I hurriedly walked off to the bar by myself.

“Give me something strong,” I told the bartender. He was a big guy, bald, and looked like he drank vodka like I did water. And possibly then broke the glass over his head and wrestled a bear just to prove his manliness. He looked me straight in the eyes questioningly and I did my best to stare him down.

Apparently it worked, cause he shrugged and poured up a shot of... something. I don’t know what it was but it tasted like paint thinner and burned all the way down, settling in my stomach like a hot coal.

Now, I should mention I don’t drink very often. And that despite a large lunch I had practically skipped dinner. And that I’m an idiot.

So I could definitely feel the alcohol wasting no time at all going to my head, but it brought less confidence than wooziness. My goal was clear though. I made my way back to Brooke, still standing alone with a soft smile on her face as she looked out at all the people dancing. I could see Daisy moving out there like a miniature hurricane, glittering the whole way.

“Oh, er,” I said. Not ideal.

Brooke looked up at me.

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” I said. Better.

Brooke nodded. “It’s fun to get out, even if I’m not normally a big fan of clubbing. Do you two do this often?”

I scratched my head. “Not me, but Daisy is a little more wild.”

Brooke cocked her head to the side and looked out at the dancers again. “Yeah. She seems... very excitable.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, nodding. “But she’s really way more responsible than you’d think. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

“So you’ve known each other a long time?” she said.

“Quite a while, yeah. She’s great. Really, uh, great.”

With that display of eloquence I trailed off again, Brooke watching Daisy, and me vainly trying to think of an appropriate way to continue the conversation, leaving us both silent for several long minutes as one loud thumping song switched to a slightly different one, and then back to one that easily could have been the first.

My stomach roiled. It was definitely not sitting well, and nervous jitters plus alcohol were not working out for me. Suddenly I was acutely aware of the taste of saliva in my mouth. The thumping beat of the music seemed to jar my brain with each pulse.

Finally, I made up my mind. Now or never. She agreed to come with us, so I wasn’t crazy, right? I wasn’t reading into something I had just made up. And she seemed to like me well enough, even with me being normally tongue-tied around her. “Twitchy” could be a cute pet name! Telling myself all this, I knew I had to say something.

“So—” “Hey—” At the same time we both spoke up. Damnit.

She smiled sweetly at me. “You first,” she said.

I felt like I was sweating bullets. My previous thought had flown out of my mind, which is fine, because it was probably just to say how beautiful her eyes were and ugh again? I should really get off of that, but they’re really pretty eyes. My stomach tightened. I should just stick with something neutral, just... I couldn’t let the chance slip away.

“So, uh, I guess this is sorta weird for both of us, huh?” I said. “Clubbing, that is! Maybe, uh. Well, if you aren’t doing anything, would you like to maybe get dinner somewhere on Friday? It might be a little more uh quiet and a chance to... y’know... ... talk,” I finished lamely.

I could see her eyes widen and her mouth open a little in surprise.

“Oh, um. That’s...”

It seemed as if my vision was narrowing, losing its periphery and focusing in on her alone, as my stomach did backflips. Stomachflips?

“Well, Twitchy, I appreciate the gesture and all, but um. See... I don’t really... like guys.” Her voice trailed off behind the loud music, but it seemed like I could read her lips just fine. Her eyes refused to meet mine.

Her face turned red again as she opened her mouth once more. “I was actually just going to ask you... Do you know if Daisy is seeing anyone?”

It was about then that my stomach decided enough was enough, and I threw up. Partially on Brooke.

After that point I don’t remember much. Other than apologizing way more times than necessary, trying to clean myself up, and then somehow managing to talk that bartender into several more of those paint-thinner drinks.

I woke up on the floor of my apartment, face down in the living room.

Seriously. Worst day of my life.

Upon waking, it felt as if my mouth was filled with glue and my head with explosions. And my bladder with... well, y’know, the normal for there. After peeling my face off of the carpet, I stumbled to my feet, valiantly fighting gravity. My victory carried me to the bathroom, albeit with the help of holding onto a wall just about the whole way. I fumblingly discarded my pants as I went, somehow managing not to get them off on the way without tripping.

As I entered the bathroom, clinging to the door frame, I hit the light switch and immediately grimaced as the fluorescent lights caused my vision to explode in stars once again. Screwing my eyes shut, I sat down on the toilet. I didn’t want to piss all over my bathroom and I felt that was a distinct possibility at the moment. Good job brain, maybe you're not entirely worthless after all.

After a moment of blissful relief, I looked down, my head in my hands.

Let's take inventory, shall we?
No job.
No roommate.
Absolutely, positively, definitely no girl.

What else could possibly go wrong with my life right now?

Yeah, I really thought that. If fate was giving me a middle finger, I’d return the favor. Come at me, bro.

It was then I noticed a flash of color at the edge of my vision, something on my thigh, way high up, almost to my hips and butt, but on the side. Wait. On both sides.

There was... some sort of gold harp. Yep. Definitely a harp, with three strings. And not tiny... pretty damn large.

I had some sort of tattoo.

...

What.

The.

Fuck.

Every Time I Thought I'd Got It Made

OK. So, tattoos on my legs.

I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. My pounding headache subsided, or at least the pain had been temporarily overwhelmed by panic.

I opened my eyes again and looked down.

Yup. Still there.

I poked at the offending mark tentatively. If it was a tattoo, it should hurt at least a little. Right? It’s not like I had any experience with them, but hey, needles, injecting ink, you would have to assume it’d be sore. But nope.

Maybe it was numb or something? Do they use anaesthetic for that sort of thing? I poked harder, and the feeling was normal. Not sore, but the same as poking any other part of my leg.

What could I have gotten into last night? I vainly tried to remember once again, but the most I could recall was the club with Brooke – push past that, not important, my brain cut in – and Daisy...

Wait, of course. I laughed out loud, the harsh noise sounding more like a forced croak. It’s somehow Daisy’s fault. She was probably pranking me. In fact, she probably just painted these stupid things on when I was asleep. Though, if she took off my pants to do so I couldn’t help but be a little creeped out. And why harps?

There’s no telling with her. I stood up, the room only slightly spinning before I steadied myself. Pulling a washcloth off the bathroom counter, I ran it under the sink, getting it nice and wet.

Scrub scrub scrub.

No dice. There wasn’t even a hint of a smear on the shape.

OK, with soap then. I lathered up the area with some hand soap and set to rubbing it fiercely with the cloth.

Still nope.

Rubbing alcohol! Sure enough, a bottle sat in the cabinet underneath the sink. I had no idea how old it was, but that sort of thing wouldn’t go bad. It felt cold, but didn’t sting.

And it didn’t do a damn thing to the mark.

I poked my head down into the cabinet again and glared at the dusty set of cleaning supplies within. Uhhh, Windex? I was out of ideas.

The skin around the harp mark had turned red with my vigorous attempts at rubbing it off, but the mark itself was untouched. I leaned over and looked at it carefully. Perfectly sharp lines outlining a golden harp with three strings.

Well, now what?

After giving up on the matter for the present, I went about the business of reacquainting myself with the land of the living. Meaning a shower, brushing my teeth, changing into something clean. It did help me feel better, though my headache had returned as a low constant pulsing. I swallowed a few ibuprofen to calm it down and thought about breakfast, but it was almost lunchtime. I could just grab something in a bit.

I also took the time to text Daisy.

<We need to talk. In person. As soon as possible.>

Only moments after my message, my phone lit up with a reply.

<class til 3!!>

At least she had responded. I figured if this was one of her pranks I wouldn’t get anything out of her without meeting face to face, but jeez. It’s poor form to troll someone this hard on their birthday night, plus all the other shit I had going on.

Thankfully, my own schedule for the day was light. I had a class as well at 1:00, but that gave me plenty of time to get lunch. And maybe some details about what had happened last night from a more... reliable source.

At that thought, some muscle between my stomach and my heart twisted. I ignored it.

I had figured my idle daydreams of a beautiful baker were stupid fantasies. I had told myself a million times that she was out of my league. It should be a relief to have it out in the open and settled.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself, as my mouth twisted in a wry grimace.

Shortly afterwards, I arrived once more at the Café Sucré. Like yesterday, it was a fairly nice day, and several of the outdoor patio tables were occupied with patrons enjoying the weather. I stepped inside, my thoughts on other things.

Mostly one thing. Or person. Who I could see as soon as I walked in, uncharacteristically sitting with her head down, forehead pressed against the cool glass top of the pastry counter.

Looks like I wasn’t the only one who ended up overdoing it last night.

I walked up, trying to push extraneous thoughts out of my mind – but man, her hair was particularly untamed today, spilling out in a loose jumble on the counter. It was striking. Was it always that long? Guess it was hard to tell when she normally wore it pulled back.

Right. Pushing extraneous thoughts out of my mind. I cleared my throat.

She looked up at me, bleary eyed. “Hey. Lyra?” she mumbled.

I didn’t hear her distinctly, and it didn’t sound quite like she said “Tyler”, but I figured I’d take an honest attempt at a wrong name over “Twitchy” for now.

“Hey,” I said. “Looks like someone had fun last night.”

Her eyes narrowed and she glared at me for a moment, but then the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk. “No kidding. How do you keep up with that Daisy?”

Daisy’s name on Brooke’s lips twisted a knife in my chest. My smile faltered. “Beats me,” I said hurriedly. “But that’s what I wanted to ask you about. What, uh, what all did we do last night?”

Brooke straightened up in her chair. “Wait,” she said, “you don’t remember? ...How much don’t you remember?” Her eyes shone with anxiety.

I gritted my teeth. “I remember... that. I mean after. Where did we go after the club?”

“After?” she asked. As she thought, she twirled a finger in her hair, causing one unruly curl to be wound even tighter. “Let’s see, well, first you sort of started a drinking contest with yourself. And then Daisy took that as a challenge, and dragged me into it as well... It gets blurry after that point. I mean, we stayed pretty late, but after a while you were seriously out of it. Last I recall, Daisy was dragging you off, saying she would get you back home.”

Aha. Daisy. Knew it.

She raised an eyebrow at my expression. “Why?” she asked. She hesitated for a brief moment before continuing. “Did anything... uh... strange happen?”

I waved a hand dismissively. “No, I just need to talk to her. I...” A couple of excuses flashed through my head. I was absolutely certain I wasn’t going to admit to getting a pair of musical tramp stamps while wasted. “I just don’t like not remembering things.” Good enough.

Brooke shrugged. “Oh, and Twitchy?” she said. I rolled my eyes. Apparently I was still stuck with the nickname. “Can you do me a favor and not tell anyone about that thing I told you last night?” She blushed slightly at the reference.

I nodded curtly. “Yeah. No problem.”

Her face broke out into a genuine smile and before I could even react, she leaned over the counter and wrapped me in a tight hug. She smelled like cinnamon. I don’t even like cinnamon and it was still heavenly.

She suddenly pulled away and ducked behind the counter. I could hear the sliding of the back of the display case, but I was too momentarily stunned to pay much attention.

“Here, I think I owe you this!” she cheerfully said, and pushed a cupcake with pastel green icing into my hands. I looked at it blankly, then back up at her, but she just giggled and turned away, sweeping into the kitchen and leaving me standing there, still frozen.

My brain eventually completed a full reboot, and I mechanically turned and left.

It wasn’t until I was out on the sidewalk that I realized that the conversation we had was the longest I had ever talked to Brooke without freaking out or stuttering the whole time. It had felt... comfortable. Well, touchy subject matter aside.

Things could be a lot worse. Maybe actually being a friend wasn’t so bad.

The pain in my chest at that last thought didn’t even hurt as much as before. I’m sure it would go away eventually.

Right. Friends.

The cupcake was good. Mint and chocolate, my favorite.

I don’t know if it was lasting confusion, or relief over my headache finally subsiding, or a sugar rush from the cupcake, but when I made it to the University, my head was all sorts of scrambled.

Everything just seemed so happy! Alive! Did I always pay attention to the birds chirping, the strange harmonies of the conversations of students throughout the campus, the burbling of the fountain at the central plaza?

That stopped me as well, I looked up at the fountain, feeling as if I had never really taken the time to properly see it before. At the center was a horse, sculpted in copper or bronze or some other dark metal, front hooves raised as it crashed through the water. I paused for a moment to think of how best to describe it.

Majestic. That’s the right word.

No rider, no saddle, just wild and free, as ponies should be. Hey, that even rhymed. I bet I could write a song about—

OK, no, I don’t write songs about ponies because I was not a twelve-year-old girl. I shook my head. Seriously, I was way too ADD today.

Trying to concentrate on something, anything, I pushed on, turning from the plaza to walk up the steps to the history building, following the stream of other students going to and from class.

Now, the first floor of the history building is actually fairly interesting, as the Uni kept it as a museum in miniature, with rotated exhibits throughout the year. I had a hunch that most of the time they were just displaying junk in the hopes that somewhere legit would try to take it off their hands, but at times it could be pretty neat.

As I walked through, I meant to just continue straight to the main stairwell and head up to class. The exhibits were still ancient Minoan relics that had been on display for the past three months. I had seen them all when they were first put in and while I found them to be one of the better collections, once you’ve seen thirty vases in a row, that’s basically all the historic pottery you’ll ever need to see. Y’know?

But something glimmered in a corner, catching my eye. I hesitated, looking at my watch. I could spare a few minutes.

Weaving through the waves of students making the beeline from the main entrance to the stairs, I walked off to the side, where the display cases were alone and unvisited.

There, behind glass, was the thing from my mark.

A gold-colored harp. Or, as a plaque helpfully explained, a lyre. It had seven strings instead of three, but it was absolutely the same thing. The shape was identical.

I drew in a big breath and began bouncing on my toes excitedly. And then, I kid you not, I squeed.

There is no other word to describe the sound that I made. I did not even know I was capable of producing noise of such a high frequency. At that moment I froze, still on my tip-toes, and turned my head slowly, as I felt blood rush to my face.

Thankfully, no one had seemed to notice.

I looked back at the lyre, tracing its form with my eyes, as I tried to figure out just why I was so excited. It was small. Really small, as in it’d be easy to hold or carry but maybe even a little difficult to play due to the strings being fairly close together and set in the same plane as the frame.

The plaque underneath was not particularly helpful. It just noted its origins as an instrument used to accompany theater, poetry, and song. No, really, it was used for music? Thanks, history. It wasn’t even properly dated like most of the other artifacts. To my only semi-trained eye it was probably just lacquered wood, but it was in great condition for an artifact. Could have been a replica then.

I realized my hands were on the glass of the display case, surreptitiously rocking the front glass door side to side to confirm that it was locked.

I dropped my hands to my side. Seriously. What was wrong with me? Why the hell would I even want this stupid thing? I wanted to get these marks off, not host an ancient poetry jam.

I spun around and determinedly marched off to class.

I only looked wistfully back over my shoulder at the lyre in its prison once.

Now, normally I’d be the first to argue that history classes aren’t any more boring than every other subject. Particularly calculus. But there’s something about that certain combination of the room being a few degrees warmer than normal and the professor’s monotone being particularly lulling that was sadly irresistible.

There’s also a reason I sat two-thirds of the way up in the big lecture hall. It is because I know my own weakness, and soon I succumbed to the inordinate weight of my eyelids, leaning back and sliding down in my chair for comfort.

Unfortunately, my dreams were anything but pleasant. An image sprung to mind, an all-too familiar one.

At first it was just his eyes in the darkness, two red pupils floating in yellowed sclera. They rattled around independent of one another before stopping to focus directly on me, causing me to shiver.

Then his face came into view, pulled back into a smile but baring that one oversized fang. He was smiling of course, but it was a cruel grin, always mocking.

His head spun and twisted in the air, floating around me in a circle, causing me to gasp and clumsily try to move to keep him in front of me. It was... hard. Something didn’t feel right, my legs didn’t respond right, but his laughter rang in my ears, keeping me from concentrating on what was different.

Then, his head froze, and with a series of pops, his body started to appear. Each section was something different, one mass of strange flesh joined into another with an ugly seam, making a patchwork monster. All I wanted to do was to shut my eyes and hide, but I couldn’t risk not watching him.

I had to do something. But... it was all gone. I started humming, the noise barely louder than a whimper, the aquamarine glow shimmering weakly in front of me.

He didn’t even stop laughing. I knew it wasn’t enough, not without my focus and not without her. And she was already gone, he had sent her away, to some place where I could not reach.

He fell into silence, mid-chuckle, and the shock was enough to disrupt my concentration and cause the magic to fade away. I grasped in my mind for a tune, any tune, but nothing came.

“Don’t worry, my little pony, I’m just giving you what you always wanted! A whole new world of possibilities, isn't that exciting?” His voice was happy, but it burned in my ears.

I stared up at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower, but my legs shook, betraying my true feelings.

And then I heard him snap a claw, sounding like a dry bone being broken in two.

I jolted awake.

Images swum in my head. That was... It was...

...

As soon as I tried to grasp them, the thoughts had flown away again.

I knew that feeling of dread, although it had been a long time since I had one of those nightmares. But I could only ever recall that sickening feeling, and never the specifics. I pressed one hand to my forehead, feeling the cold sweat.

Behind me, I heard stifled giggles, and I turned and glared at a group of girls a few rows back. They wouldn’t meet my eyes.

God, I was probably talking in my sleep or something, but the professor and everyone in front of me hadn’t seemed to notice. Good luck on my part – I had gotten quite experienced at sleeping inconspicuously and making noises would be a worrying development, even if I was having nightmares again.

I flicked my bangs out of my eyes and tried to focus on the lecture. Most of the class had already passed, but for the rest of it I had no problems staying wide awake, boredom be damned.

After class, Daisy was not responding to my increasingly frustrated texts, which meant she was either enjoying my panic or just not paying attention. Probably the latter – she was always mischievous but rarely sadistic.

Let’s see... I figured she was on campus still, as she regularly regaled me with stories of her crazy roommates and how she tried to avoid them when possible. And given that we were out late last night and Daisy didn’t mess around when it came to parties, she was probably still trying to recover, meaning she would be somewhere quiet.

It turns out I did know her habits well. I found her in the back of the smaller science and engineering library on campus, sitting at a table concealed behind shelves of technical manuals that I was fairly sure had never been needed by any person on Earth. For whatever reason, there was a table and chairs jammed back in the corner here, a convenient place to study.

Or sleep. She had a book open on the table in front of her, but given the sunglasses and her slouched posture in the tilted-back chair, reading wasn’t exactly high on her current priorities.

It was only a paltry form of revenge, but I placed one foot against the raised chair leg and pushed down forcefully, causing the seat to fall forward back to its normal position. Daisy windmilled her arms as she jerked back to consciousness, her sunglasses tumbling off her nose and onto her book.

“Gah!” she said, wildly looking around. Her eyes stopped on me. The widened as she stared at me for a moment, then narrowed again as a tentative grin formed on her lips. “Tyler...?”

“Alright, we need to talk,” I said. I pulled out the other chair and took a seat. “What exactly happened last night?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she said. “I leave you guys alone for some private time and when I come back you’re trying to discover how many drinks it takes to get to the center of liver failure. Things not go well with your lady?”

I winced. “We’re looking for different things in a relationship. Or at least she is.”

Daisy hesitated, a pained look crossing her face. She settled on reaching out to pat me on the shoulder sympathetically. “Plenty of fish in the sea. Or something. At least you tried?”

I shook my head in irritation. “Whatever. That’s not what I mean though. What happened after the club?”

She cocked her head to the side at my question. “What do you mean? I hauled your ass home, which, you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Right,” I said. “And there were no other stops? You didn’t convince me to do something... stupid? You didn’t decide to play a little joke?” I stared at her firmly.

She did genuinely look confused. I couldn’t help but recall that every other time she had pulled some sort of prank, her poker face had been abysmal. She was not great at keeping quiet, particularly when it was something that amused her, but as much as I watched for a suppressed smirk, it wasn’t there.

“W-what are you talking about?” she asked.

I exhaled through my teeth. “I’m talking about this.” I glanced behind me to make sure we were completely alone and then unbuttoned my pants.

“Oh god!” she exclaimed, holding up her hands to cover her face. “Tyler, I know you struck out with pastry-girl, and I’m flattered, but...”

“No!” I said hurriedly. “Not that. This.” I twisted, fighting with my pants and boxers until the harp – no, lyre – was in view.

Daisy was quiet for a moment, her face still hidden by her hands. She cracked two fingers, peeking through suspiciously. When she saw the tattoo, her hands dropped, along with her jaw.

And then she burst into raucous laughter, pounding the table between gulping breaths. The loud noise echoed through the library and I shook her shoulder roughly to get her to stop, but she was laughing so hard that tears had started to form in the corners of her eyes.

I heard a furious shushing from behind me, turning partway to see the head of a librarian poking from where the stacks ended in the aisle. Thankfully, my back being to her, she was unable to see my state of quasi-undress. The librarian’s icy glare seemed to get through to Daisy at least, and she quieted down. I smiled, hopefully apologetically. It seemed to be good enough, as we were left alone once more.

As soon as the librarian had left, I started to zip up my pants again, but Daisy stopped me and stared intently at the lyre marking for a moment before indicating for me to continue.

“Oh my god, you have a cutie mark,” she finally said. “Why do you have a cutie mark? Have you been a secret brony and holding out on me all this time? Why a background pony though? I mean, sure, I guess the music thing makes sense but why not Mane 6? Obviously Pinkie Pie is best pony, but Twilight would work, or maybe Rarity if you’re not worried about it being too girly, but if you were worried about it being girly why the hell did you get a cutie mark?”

My mouth hung open for a moment at the nonsense that seemed to be spilling from hers. I finally managed to get in a response. “...What.”

Her eyes were intense and the grin on her face had stretched worryingly wide. “I suppose that explains the hair though.”

“...What?” I said again. Out of reflex, one of my hands reached up to my head.

I felt soft hair. A lot of soft hair. A whole lot more than I had any reason to have.

“WHAT!” I shouted.

Behind me I heard a cough as the librarian reappeared. “Ladies, if you insist on being disruptive I will have to ask you to leave.”

I turned in my chair halfway and tried to look penitent, as Daisy mouthed a “sorry”. The librarian frowned and left us again.

Daisy snickered. “Ladies.”

I paused, rewinding my brain thirty seconds. Is that what she had said? Wait, it totally was. Did this hairstyle make me look like a girl?

I reached up and cautiously ran my hands through my new hair, as if it would bite me. It stuck out pretty far in the front and I pulled some strands down in front of my eyes. It was... a very pale blueish green? Not any normal shade.

It must be a wig, then. I reached up and tugged hard, hard enough to really really hurt. So. Not a wig.

Daisy’s expression was awestruck. “How did you even get your hair to look like, uh, that?”

“What? You’re the one who did it!”

She looked offended. “Why would I do something like this to you?” I didn’t even bother responding. “OK. Wait, nevermind. Why would I do something like this to you without videotaping your reaction for YouTube?”

That... actually was a fair point. “Well, who would?”

She shrugged. “I doubt you did it yourself. You were totally down for the count when I brought you home, and I guess you wouldn’t even know enough match the mane to the mark.”

“Huh?” I said, but she ignored my interjection.

“Someone could have broken in after I left you conked out in your living room and dragged you out for a midnight makeover, but that’s a lot of work for a prank.” She was still staring at me with a half-smile on her face, torn between taking things seriously and just being amused at my predicament.

I was still subconsciously running my fingers through my hair. It was fairly short on the sides, but long in the back. Oh god I had a mullet, didn’t I? The front drifted forward lazily, longer than it should be as well, but apparently willing to naturally stay up and out of my eyes.

Had it been like this all day? Surely I would have noticed it in the mirror this morning, but there was no other time the entire day that someone could have messed with me without my knowledge.

“Earth to Tyler,” she said, causing me to guiltily stop playing with my hair.

“Er, right,” I said. “So, who would I know who'd have a grudge against me? To the point that they'd seek revenge in such a ridiculous way?”

I rubbed my chin, musing, but nothing came to mind. Sure, I interacted with other people at school, the lab, whatever, but I couldn’t think of anyone that had made a big impression on me lately, either positive or negative. Certainly not anyone who would have reason to do... all this.

“It just doesn’t make any sense!” I blurted out in a frustrated grumble. My hands inched their way back up, scratching at my head as I puzzled over the meaning behind everything. My hair just felt so soft. It was distracting, like a scab I couldn’t help but pick at.

“Well,” Daisy said, “if I know anything about ridiculous schemes, it’s that you don’t just set something crazy up and then not follow through. Have you noticed anyone suspicious? Someone following you or watching you?”

More sound advice. Whoever was playing this joke on me would want to see the fruits of their labor, meaning they would have to potentially expose themselves. I ran through the day in my head, but nothing sketchy came to mind. But then again, I hadn’t necessarily been on the lookout for suspicious activity.

“Not that I can think of,” I said. “This has just been completely exhausting.” I sighed softly. “Maybe I should just head home and get some rest. Whoever did this will probably want to claim credit. Eventually.”

Daisy punched me softly in the shoulder. “Hang in there, Ty. Plus, the hair is kinda cute. In a girly way.” She winked at me and I rolled my eyes.

I stood and peeked around the corner of the bookcases, hoping to catch some lurking prankster spy, but the aisle was deserted. Daisy had already slouched back in her chair and retrieved her sunglasses, ready for another “study session”.

In fact, the whole library was empty as far as I could tell, other than the still-unhappy librarian. Guess my mystery nemesis wasn’t going to be easy to catch.

The whole way back to my place was equally uneventful. I stopped in at a burger place, hanging around way too long in a seat in the very back so that I could observe every person to come in. But no one seemed out of the ordinary, except for a few curious looks at my flashy hairstyle.

Also, the worst burger I had ever tasted. I made do with the fries, but I wasn't going back there any time soon.

By the time I arrived at home, it was late afternoon, the sun starting to slink down towards the horizon. I trudged up the steps, but upon entering the hallway outside of my apartment a strange sight caused me to stop.

There, on the ground directly opposite my door, was a girl. She was sitting next to a white plastic bag, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her face down, meaning all I could see was her hair. And it made my crazy ‘do look tame in comparison.

It was pink. And also blue. The colors split neatly down a vertical line across the top of her head, every colored strand seemingly in place. Her bangs were broad sweeping curls, one of each shade, and the back was long, also ending in a large swirl. The colors were a bright pink and a deep blue, both more vivid than any dye job I had ever seen.

“Uh. Hi?” I said, mystified.

At that, the girl looked up and leapt to her feet. She advanced on my position.

“What. Did. You. Do to me?” The harshly punctuated question came out in a hoarse growl.

I just stared. At first my brain focused on the little things, like her balled fists and gritted teeth, or the way she was stalking towards me on her toes in a fundamentally offputting manner. And then it noted her jaw quivering and her rapid blinking, indicating that behind the mask of anger, she was actually... scared. And then I saw her eyes directly.

I knew that face all too well. I had stolen enough sidelong glances in recent days to be completely infatuated with nearly every inch of it.

But those eyes, those eyes were wrong.

Brooke’s eyes were not supposed to be sky blue.

It Seemed The Taste Was Not So Sweet

Brooke’s face was barely inches away from mine. Y’know, I had dreams like this. Only in those she wasn’t typically glaring at me hard enough to singe my eyebrows.

I flinched and tried to back away, but she kept moving forward until I felt the wall bump into my shoulderblades.

“W-what are you talking about?” I said, weakly, seeing no other means of escape.

Brooke took a deep breath. “What do you think I am talking about? My hair!” She shook her head and the wavy curls that made up her bangs bounced slightly. “What did you do? Is this your idea of a joke? Is it because I rejected you, some kind of sick revenge? What is wrong with you, Lyra?”

“I... I...”

“God, you even did it to yourself!” With one finger she poked me right in the forehead. “You can’t tell me you weren’t involved. Is this some sort of twisted way to try to get close to me? I told you I wasn’t interested!”

I felt wetness on my cheeks and realized I was crying. My knees buckled and my back slowly slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.

“I don’t know!” I said, tears coming in full force. I wasn’t normally this emotional, but something about the mysterious marks and now the hair and Brooke accusing me... it all caught up to me at once, I guess.

I looked up through my tears and saw Brooke had taken a step back. Her eyes still looked steely as she took a long moment to stare at me. Then they softened slightly, and she bit her lip as she looked down at me.

I must have looked pitiful.

After watching me try my best to stop the flow of tears and completely and utterly fail, she finally spoke up. “I... I’m sorry.”

I didn’t say anything. Closing my eyes, I rubbed at them, trying to calm myself but I just felt worse and worse. I couldn’t help but feel this really was all my fault. I couldn’t bear to look at Brooke.

I heard a noise next to me, then I felt arms close around me. My eyes flew open again and I could see my face pressed against soft pink hair, Brooke hugging me tightly. For some reason, that did it. I started sobbing in earnest, but it wasn’t as lonely as before. I was overflowing, but it was laced with relief, Brooke’s embrace giving me reassurance.

Finally, my crying subsided. With a few shuddering breaths and some fairly gross sniffs I managed to pull myself together. I could see her hair damp from my tears.

After another long moment, she finally let go, maintaining a grip on my shoulders but pulling us apart to arms length. “It’s okay,” she said, gently. “Now... do you have any idea what’s going on?”

I swallowed and shook my head side to side slowly.

Brooke exhaled slowly, and her mouth turned upwards slightly. It was a smile meant to be reassuring, but what still looked more worried. “So I guess we’re in the same boat, then? Crazy hair and... do you have an unusual, uh, symbol that appeared recently?”

“...A lyre,” I said, softly.

“What, like the instrument? Hm.” Brooke looked into my eyes again. “Look, I’m really sorry, OK?” She squeezed my shoulders reassuringly. “I got a little carried away. It’s just... this hair thing isn’t funny, it’s a big deal. I worked really hard to get this apprenticeship with the pastry chef at Sucré and if I’m seen like this, I could get thrown out of the whole program. And they’re giving me room and board too. I’m just really freaked out right now.”

I nodded, wiping my face with my sleeve. “...You’re not the only one,” I said, my voice straining to sound lighthearted.

“Yeah,” she said, solemnly.

We sat in the hallway for one more long moment before my embarrassment caught up to me. I had broken down into tears for no reason, and as appreciative as I was to Brooke for the support, I couldn’t help but feel like I was way less of a man in her eyes now as a result. Ugh.

Clumsily, I got to my feet, squeezing my eyes tightly shut to get rid of any last remnant of my shame. Brooke rose as well and stepped back, anxiously holding her arms behind her back and looking over her shoulder at the plastic bag she had been sitting next to. Our eyes met and she smiled guiltily.

“Actually...” she said. “I was hoping I could ask you a favor. Could I use your shower?”

I blinked.

“I need to try and wash out whatever this hair stuff is,” she said. “And failing that, to dye it back to something reasonable.” She waved towards the plastic bag. “And I can’t go home, cause, y’know, I can’t let anyone see me with my hair still crazy. Thank goodness I noticed before anyone else did and could duck out of work.”

“Sure,” I said. “Um. Particularly if you help me do the same.”

I finally saw a real smile on her face as she turned and started walking to my door. “Of course! Though yours is kinda cute.”

In a girly way, I’m sure. Sigh.

I could hear the shower running, along with faint growls of exasperation that meant Brooke was having a tough time. She had been in there for quite a while, leaving me to awkwardly try to find some way to busy myself.

I had partially succeeded in this – at least I had managed to clean up the living room and move the mess in my bedroom to a more contained pile. But afterwards I found myself standing around, guiltily staring in the direction of the bathroom door.

I noticed that I was standing on my toes. Argh. Seriously, there was something wrong with me. I tried to relax and forced my heels down.

...Only for them to ache, trembling slightly as the muscles tensed. Was there actually something wrong with me? I bounced onto my toes again and my feet felt relieved, even though I was pretty sure feet aren’t made to be treated like that. At least I apparently had good balance.

I hopped on one foot, then the other, leaning far forward with my hands spread out in front of me to keep my balance. With a surprising grace I pirouetted on the point of one toe, my hands spread in the air. This was... kind of fun!

A loud thump echoed through the bathroom door, followed by the sounds of muffled cursing from within. The noise having jerked me back to reality, I stood up straight, shaking my head fiercely in embarrassment at my actions.

“Brooke? You okay?” I called through the door.

“I’m fine!” Her voice was loud and angry. Pretty clear that her attempts to alleviate her hair situation were still meeting with failure. Better just to leave her alone.

I needed something to take my mind off of things. Or maybe something to keep my mind on things, helpful things that weren’t dancing around like a goddamn ballerina or Brooke being potentially naked and wet right on the other side of that door, ample curves glistening in— Oh my god.

Something to take my mind off things.

Right.

I hurriedly made my way to my room, grabbing my guitar. This would help, music always calmed me down. Taking a seat on the bed, I strummed a little, adjusting strings to get everything in tune.

But upon trying in earnest, I came upon an unsettling realization. The more I tried to concentrate and play something, the worse it ended up. My hands seemed as clumsy as my feet had been deft. And since I couldn’t play the thing with my feet, this meant nothing but frustration. The music in my head was fine, I could feel it flowing through as it always had, but any attempt to translate it into being through the guitar ran into the wall of fingers completely unwilling to cooperate. My reactions were sluggish, the movements imprecise.

Setting the guitar down, I took a deep breath. Just... just nerves, and being all worked up about Brooke. A nagging feeling floated in the back of my mind, pointing out that I had been nervous plenty of times before and it had never been like this. I silenced the thought ruthlessly.

I needed something else to think about. Again.

My mind conjured up Brooke’s face. Damn, not that.

Or wait, maybe. I had completely forgotten about one thing that had seemed particularly strange. Brooke’s eye color had changed. Sure, she could have been wearing contacts or something to change the color, but why would she? Particularly with her freaking out so much about the hair.

...I wonder. Were my eyes the same? Of course, they’d have to be, right? Hair is one thing. There’s a million ways for someone to change their hair: dye, extensions, wigs, whatever. But eyes? I’d notice if I had contacts in, and it’s not like there was any other way to mess with them. At least that I knew of.

I suddenly felt a pressing need to have to prove this to myself. But Brooke was in the bathroom with the mirror. Hmm.

I glanced around my room, looking for any kind of reflective object, before my gaze fell on my computer. That’d work. I had a webcam, after all – I could just test it and see. Plus, that way I could see my stupid hair from someone else’s perspective.

My course of action decided, I slipped over to the computer chair and turned on the monitor. A few clicks here, a few clicks there and... voila!

...I had yellow eyes.

Or rather, gold. With one eye I stared up at the webcam so I could get a closer look, which meant the other tried to focus on the screen, making them cross and my vision swim. Derp, that wouldn’t work. But even looking at the computer normally, it was clear: my eyes were now a different color.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

Pulling back, I turned my head from side to side, looking at my hair. It was indeed a very pale blueish color, with a slight tinge of green. Winding down and around my ear was a highlight of white, accentuating the look.

It was also indeed girly, although at least short enough in front to be ambiguous about it. I shook my head gently, and the hair shook too before falling back into its natural tousled state.

This had suddenly gotten a little scary. The hair wasn’t bad or anything, per se, but that plus the eyes, plus the marks... all these little unexplainable things had started to really make me worry.

I stared at myself, trying to determine if anything else had changed. It was the same face that I had always seen, as far as I could tell. In fact, a little nicer looking than normal, maybe – the bit of acne that was normally present had cleared up. I stared at my nose, my chin, my mouth, suddenly paranoid that something else had changed, even though that would be ridiculous. But every time I saw my eyes, I got a cold shiver. Who knew what was possible?

Unnerved, I reached for the computer’s mouse, and with a clicking noise, I saved an image of myself. Just in case.

But staring at myself was only going to make me feel more jumpy. A better idea would be to try and be proactive in figuring this out. Now, what could the Internet tell me about strange hair appearing or odd skin markings?

...

Note to self: be cautious what you Google image search.

The light shining through the windows was grey, angry clouds doing their best to get in the sun’s way, but it was bright enough to force me awake. I groaned, squeezing my eyes together tightly before opening them to look around. I felt awful.

That was probably due to sleeping on the floor. Ugh. My lower back felt particularly sore and achey. I just couldn’t get comfortable at all last night, tossing and turning continually interrupting furtive moments of rest. And now I was up and not going back to sleep, despite still feeling exhausted. Note to self: need to get blinds for this now-empty second bedroom.

Wait. Why wasn’t I in my bedroom?

I paused and rubbed an itch on my forehead. Oh, right. Brooke was here. And after she had taken the shower for three hours, trying in vain to dye her hair something more reasonable, I had just suggested she stay the night.

Gee, a week ago I would be freaking out about that fact, but it loses some of the appeal when you’re sleeping on the floor in an entirely different room. But as much as I still clearly carried a torch for her, I was trying very hard to keep things as friends. Things between us may not be meant to be, but I did genuinely want to help her. Something about seeing her happy just made me feel sunny inside. Even just thnking about her smiling...

My stomach rumbled, bringing me back to the present and adding to the complaining the rest of my sore body was already doing. Well, if I was going to be up, I might as well get some food. I wriggled out of the twisted blankets that I had attempted to make into a bed and kicked them aside into a corner. I stretched, hearing a series of pops in my back and feeling some relief.

Whew. Much better.

I reached down to free my tail from the confines of my pajama pants, the new freedom already relieving the soreness. I swished it back and forth, working out the kinks as I paced forwards towards the door.

Swish, swish. It was like scratching an itch, making a smile appear on my face.

Swish.

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. Wait.

Swish.

Swish, swish.

Huh.

Swish.

My other hand shook as it made its way back to the unfamiliar appendage. It brushed against silky hair and with a start, both hand and tail jerked away from each other.

That... was definitely a tail. Cautiously, I twisted my upper body around, looking down. Yep. A light blue-green tail with a conspicuous white stripe in the center. I touched it again, this time preparing myself, but even so I shivered at the feeling. Sleek and smooth – softer than it would have seemed at first glance. It was a little untamed but natural-looking, the wavy hair sticking out at the end.

I flicked it again, and the tail whipped up. You know, a tail like this I would have vaguely assumed to just be made up of nothing but hair, but I could feel more than that, and clearly I could move it. I ran my fingers through it softly. It felt just like my spine kept on going a bit more than usual. Huh. You learn something new every day.

My vision started getting blurry all of a sudden, my head pounding. I took a shuddering breath, gasping for oxygen. Oh. I had stopped breathing. That’s usually a thing that I needed to do. Right.

OK. I just need to think through this.

I looked back at the tail. My tail, I guess. The color scheme looked familiar. Right. It matched my hair. I raised my hand to run it through the hair on my head as a comparison. And then I felt my ear. My much larger than normal, slightly fuzzy ear, that laid down flat as I brushed against it.

Oh come on.

The phone sat awkwardly against my shoulder as I cracked open the freezer and started rummaging around. There had to be something in here that’d do for breakfast.

I heard someone pick up on the other side, finally. “Hello?” a voice asked. From the sound of it, I had woken her up, which normally I would feel a slight bit of guilt about, but I had other things on my mind.

“Daisy,” I said, firmly. Better not to launch into things directly. She would need to actually be fully conscious first.

“Ugh,” she responded. Yep, was good to wait.

“Daisy, I need you to come over here right now.” I found a box of sausage biscuits crammed at the back of the fridge. I paused to consider it, but decided no. Sausage did not sound appetizing at the moment.

“W-who is this?” she asked. Definitely still sleepy, she didn’t even recognize my voice.

“It’s Tyler,” I replied. “How soon can you get here?” I gave up on the fridge and switched to looking in the pantry. Maybe...

“Tyyyler...” she said, “it’s... 9:30 in the morning. Who gets up at 9:30 in the morning?”

“Normal people?” My investigations had been fruitful. A full and unopened box of strawberry pop-tarts! I cracked it open and took out a couple, still wrapped in silvery foil.

“Not any kind of people that I’d want to be around,” she muttered darkly. “What could possibly be this important?”

Then I heard a gasp behind me. My ears swiveled around at the sound, which startled me a bit, and I spun around to see the source.

Brooke was standing in the doorway, staring at me with eyes the size of saucers. One hand was raised over her mouth. The other hung in the air before slowly moving towards her back. I knew where this was going. I could see her ears poking up through her hair. So, that’s what those looked like.

“Daisy,” I said into the phone, “I’m going to have to call you back. Brooke just saw my tail.”

“What?” she asked incredulously, and I heard her voice increase in volume amidst demands for explanation before I hung up.

Brooke’s hand made contact with something around her butt and her eyes stretched even wider. Slowly she sunk to her knees and then curled up awkwardly on the floor in complete silence.

I didn’t know quite what to do. So, I walked over to take a seat next to her. Our shoulders touched and we leaned on each other ever so slightly. Whatever was happening to us was happening to both of us, and that at least was reassuring. A very small amount of reassuring, but we would take what we could get.

I opened the pop-tarts and handed her one. I guess we could have toasted them first, but I, for one, didn’t feel like moving for the moment. So, we sat on the cold tile of the kitchen, eating slightly stale strawberry pop-tarts and trying to process what was going on.

It was... nice.

Some time later, the full team had assembled.

Meaning Daisy had shown up. Currently she and Brooke were sitting on the floor in the living room, Daisy absolutely enraptured by Brooke’s tail. She kept pulling at the curls and watching them spring back into shape. At least Brooke didn’t seem to mind. Her face was serious, and she appeared to be deep in thought.

I was busy pacing back and forth worriedly. I felt jittery and full of energy, but the moving around seemed to clear my head. My tail lashed out behind me as I walked, swishing back and forth in a deliberate manner that gave me a sense of purpose.

“So,” I said, “Daisy, do you have any idea what could be going on?”

She looked up, biting her lip. “Maybe somewhat? But it seems sort of crazy.”

“Crazy like growing a tail overnight crazy?” Brooke asked, dryly.

Daisy looked between me and Brooke and sighed. “So... I think...” Her hesitation was evident, and I motioned with one hand for her to get on with it. “You might be turning into ponies?”

I blinked. My eyes met those of Brooke, then we both turned to stare at Daisy.

“Heheh,” she chuckled halfheartedly. “It’s sort of too coincidental otherwise. The exact mane colors and your cutie marks—”

“The what?” I cut in. “You said that yesterday too.”

“Cutie marks,” she said. “All the ponies in the show have them on their flanks. Well, the adult ponies anyways. It’s a sign of their special talent.” Daisy looked at Brooke for a moment, rubbing her chin. “Let me guess. You have one of three wrapped sweets?”

Brooke nodded, narrowing her eyes. “How did you know?”

“Your hair and tail are pretty distinctive. They belong to Bon-Bon, and that’s what her cutie mark is. Just like the lyre one for Lyra Heartstrings.” Daisy was trying to be calm and informational, but her eyes sparkled.

I felt a sudden chill at the name. “Lyra Heartstrings?”

Daisy nodded. “Right, your colors match Lyra’s to a T.”

I stared at Brooke hard. She was still looking at Daisy, but when she noticed my attention, she turned towards me, raising an eyebrow at my attention towards her.

“You called me Lyra,” I finally said, my words laced with an accusatory tone.

Her eyebrows furrowed but she didn’t flinch. “No I didn’t,” she said, evenly.

“You did, yesterday,” I said, my words tumbling out faster and faster. “Like... twice! I just assumed you had ‘Tyler’ wrong, but you definitely said Lyra. How did you know? Do you know more than you’re letting on?”

An angry light flared in Brooke’s eyes. “Are you kidding me? You think I’d do this to myself? I’m still not convinced that it’s not your fault. All this started when the night I hung out with you two.”

“What?” I said. “I don’t know anything about these stupid ponies! How could I have—”

“Girls!” Daisy yelled out. “Calm down!”

I ground my teeth. “I’m not a girl.”

“Sorry,” Daisy said. “But, regardless. Rather than whose fault this is, I think we need to focus on what to do next.”

Brooke pointedly looked away from me. “Fine by me,” she said.

I muttered an assent as well, and Daisy pulled out her phone, typing away.

“If you grew tails somehow, then I really don’t know how far this is going to go. But I think you two should look at this.” Daisy finished what she was doing and passed the phone over for Brooke to take a look. I walked around behind them and peered down.

She had just pulled up an image on the web. A picture of two colorful ponies in a cartoony style standing next to one another. One was a mint-green pony – no, a unicorn, from the stubby horn sprouting from its forehead. It bore a wide grin, and one arm stretched across the back of the other pony That other one was cream-colored, with swirly two-toned hair. It was rolling its eyes and leaning away, but an embarrassed smile crossed its face.

Both of them had very familiar manes and tails, and the unicorn had the same lyre symbol that I did. The very exact same one, there was no question about it.

I was the first to speak up. “So, we’re turning into... that.”

Daisy shrugged. “I have no idea. It could just be this much, it could be that you’re going to have hooves tomorrow. Or... other things.” She looked directly at me and appeared about to speak, but seemed to think better of it.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Brooke said.

“And why us?” I asked, rhetorically. “Why not you? You seem to know about these things.”

Daisy shook her head. “I don’t know. And I’m also wondering... why Lyra and Bon-Bon specifically? Sure, you two are sort of a matched pair...” Brooke and I both gave her a sharp glare. “No, I mean, in the show Lyra and Bon-Bon are a pair of background ponies that don’t really have major roles, but they show up together a lot in crowds or as filler.”

“So, you’re saying we’re not even turning into the important ponies?” I asked.

“Aw, they’re both pretty cool, at least fanon-wise. Are you two sure you didn’t do anything odd together that might have brought this on?”

“Absolutely sure,” Brooke said with a frosty tone.

I winced a bit but nodded. “This is freaky shit. Like magic. Or...” An idea struck me. “A curse!”

“A curse?” Brooke repeated dubiously.

“Right, so, I work at a lab on campus and we deal with historical artifacts pretty often. What if one of them was cursed or from some mummy tomb or something? We can’t exactly rule out the possibility.”

Daisy giggled to herself. “Yeah, maybe you offended Frend-Shep-Sut, the ancient Egyptian god of pastel cartoon ponies.” I rolled my eyes.

Brooke seemed skeptical, but willing to take me more seriously. “Why me, then?”

I shrugged. “Because you were in close proximity to me?”

“Hmmm,” Daisy said. “But how often do you deal with stuff that’s legit ancient? And what about everyone else in the lab?”

I frowned. She was right, I couldn’t think of anything I had dealt with in the past three months that was truly noteworthy or potentially cursed. It was still a good idea though.

“Well, let’s think. Over the past couple of days, has there been anything out of the ordinary?”

We were silent, each deep in thought.

Brooke spoke up. “I burned some cookies a few hours before we went out that night.” After seeing the expression on our faces, she frowned. “Hey, I never burn things. I just zoned out for a minute and completely didn’t notice the timer going off. That’s weird, right?”

“Sure,” Daisy said. I was less convinced.

Another idea popped into my head. “The lyre!” I said, my voice showing some excitement. “There was this lyre yesterday! It was special somehow. Just like my... mark.” I was not going to call it a cutie mark. I still had some pride.

“Where?” Brooke said.

“The history building on campus. But, that was also after things had started to change. I didn’t notice it at all until that point. But then I really wanted to play it. I don't know why, it was just this sudden strong urge. I bet it’s not that different from any other stringed instrument. With a little bit of practice, I could—”

Brooke frowned and interrupted. “But if you didn’t notice it until after, how is it related? How do you know it’s not another one of the changes? Or that giving into it wouldn't just speed up the process, like you’re accepting things rather than trying to get back to normal?”

Her objections were valid, but depressing. Even thinking of the lyre again made my fingers twitch. But that very attraction meant that something was up, and in that case Brooke could be right about it only intensifying matters. If it was the root cause, I should have had some interaction with it before the mark showed up. Maybe.

“Ugh,” I said. “Nothing makes sense!”

“Hey, it’s going to work out.” I didn’t quite believe Daisy, but her words were appreciated nonetheless. “Look, I think I should talk to Andy, his—”

“No way,” I said flatly.

Andy was a friend of Daisy’s. I never really liked the guy. He was always just a bit odd, slightly too intense and not particularly good at picking up social signals. I don’t know why she hung out with him. A vague memory popped into my head about him also being into that pony cartoon. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me – that seemed like just the sort of thing that’d be up his alley. But even still, I didn’t want anyone besides us to know about this. I figured Andy would be really creepy about the whole thing, too.

But Daisy seemed put off by my answer. “Tyler, he’s a nice guy when you get to know him. And what I was going to say... his roommate is studying veterinary science. If you two actually are turning into full-on ponies, that could be important.”

I mulled it over. “Maybe, then. But not yet.” I sighed heavily. “I just wish we had some lead, something that we could do.”

Daisy grinned deviously. “I might have an idea!” she said, turning to her backpack at her side and beginning to dig through the contents. She pulled something out, and presented it to us proudly.

My Little Pony, Season 1, on DVD.

Sigh.

I didn’t last long, maybe five or six episodes. But I did keep seeing that same green unicorn hanging around in the background. I don’t want to say it was a bad show, but I just found it uninteresting. All the plots were so straightforward, even never having seen it before I felt like I could predict how everything was going to turn out, practically down to the very word. It was written for kids though, so that’s not too surprising.

Daisy and Brooke seemed to enjoy it more, and it turned out Brooke had even watched some of the show previously so before long they were chattering away about one thing or another. Mostly Daisy doing the talking, but still, it was good to see Brooke a little less stoic for once. I worried that she had been taking this whole pony thing pretty hard.

Ultimately I excused myself with the excuse of needing to go to class. Brooke tried to talk me out of it, worried about further changes happening and our secret getting out, but I promised to be careful and insisted on needing to maintain some vestige of being human.

To be honest, I could care less about class though. I just needed to get outside, get some fresh air. The sky was overcast, and it seemed like it might start sprinkling at any time, but it was still wonderful. Had I always appreciated days like this? Even the cool gusty wind made me feel the energy in the air. It was refreshing.

Out of a lack of any better plan I headed to the park a few blocks away. I just needed a place to think, and the grass and trees would help. I found myself whistling as I made my way there, my worries replaced by cheerfulness, if not confidence.

It wasn’t as busy as usual, which was not surprising given the weather. I took a bench at the center of the park, slouching down and looking over the grounds. A few people were still around. Joggers winding their way through along park pathways. Children playing on the old jungle gym in one corner. Mothers chatting amongst one another as they watched over their kids. Even the animals were out, if you were paying attention. Squirrels scampered from tree to tree, blending in but made noticeable by their movement. Birds were harder to see, but I could hear them calling from the trees.

I briefly wished that I had brought my guitar. It would be fun to add my own melody to the chirps of birds and the whistling of the wind through branches. If I could still play it correctly. Or maybe that lyre... but if I couldn't play the guitar, I absolutely couldn't play a lyre.

But here, my problems seemed farther away. With so much life around me, I felt like one smaller bit of a bigger whole. A small bit, but still an important one. I still fit into—

“Excuse me,” a voice said, from one side of me. I turned my head, and my smile fell away. It was one of the mothers, from her harried-looking expression and from the small girl peering around her legs in my direction.

“Y-yes?” I asked.

She looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, my daughter couldn’t help but notice your costume, and she just wouldn’t leave me alone about taking a picture with you.”

I blinked. Costume? Wait.

I wasn’t wearing anything to hide my ears. Oh buck.

“Er—” I started.

“Oh, it’d mean the world to her, we’d only take a second of your time.” The mother sounded a little desperate. I wondered if the kid was prone to tantrums or what.

“Sure,” I said, nervously. I didn’t mind it, and honestly, making the kid happy would brighten my day as well. I just felt like the one thing Brooke was adamant on was lying low, and getting my picture taken was sort of the opposite of that.

Before I could say anything else though, the kid had hopped up on the bench and wrapped her arms tightly around me, her eyes wide and her smile innocent and cheerful. I looked forward as the mother pulled out her phone to take the picture, and forced a big smile of my own, my ears standing straight up out of my hair.

There was a brief flash, and then the little girl had hidden behind her mother again, like she couldn’t decide if I was wonderful or terrifying.

The mother thanked me, and I nodded vaguely, my eyes following them as they headed back to the general vicinity of the jungle gym. I noticed some more heads turning in my direction, and some kids running up to tug at their parents’ sleeves.

Uh oh. I decided to leave before things just got worse. And before people actually started asking questions. I stood and quickly headed off into the opposite direction.

The day seemed a little darker. Did I really fit in at all anymore? What about if things kept changing? I felt as if I had just realized how wonderful the world could be, only to find that my place in it was being yanked away. What was I going to do? Live my life alone and in hiding?

My thoughts spiraled further as I trudged home.

***

Daisy and Brooke were still watching ponies when I got back. Specifically, they were involved in some sort of argument about whether some pony had the best cupcakes or not, which seemed completely ridiculous. I just responded half-heartedly at their welcome back and headed to my room, mumbling something about needing a nap.

It was more or less true, seeing as how I figured I should take advantage of my bed while I could. But before that, I had to check something. I paced over to my computer and turned on the webcam, shuddering as my fingers fumbled through the necessary motions. Would they be hooves tomorrow? I felt like anything could happen now.

Forcing the thought from my head, I focused on the image that came up. My face. Right. The hair and the eyes were clearly wrong, but had anything else changed? I studied the image carefully. It all looked pretty familiar, I did know my own face.

I clicked to bring up the picture I had saved last night.

It was different. Noticeably different, in fundamental ways. My eyes were larger now, the gold irises more vividly colored. My face was more rounded, my chin less pronounced, and the lines of my jaw and cheekbones softer. As much as it bugged me, I looked considerably more androgynous, if not actually feminine.

I practically looked like an entirely different person now. And what was scary is that I had completely failed to realize it until directly staring at the proof. Did that mean the changes weren’t just physical? Was it also happening to my mind? And in that case... where would it stop?

Would I lose my identity entirely? My memories? My self?

I sniffed loudly and wiped at my eyes. I was crying again, for no discernable reason. It only made me feel worse.

I wrapped myself in a blanket and curled up in my bed, trying to stop the flow of tears. But all I could think about were the changes. My whole body felt super-sensitive, the slightest twitch or movement of air against skin making me assume the worst, that I was losing another part of my humanity. I was all alone, and I was vanishing away.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook me.

I could hear faint sounds of ponies laughing and talking drifting through the door to my room. Apparently the marathon was still ongoing. A wary glance at my clock showed that I had been in bed for a long while, longer than I had wanted.

But I was still lying there, already completely awake but not wanting to move. Getting up meant having to look at something else that had changed. I knew I needed to face that, but I didn’t want to.

Maybe I just had to psyche myself up first. I looked over at my guitar, but figured it wouldn’t be much good if my hands were still all fumbly. Music wasn’t a bad idea though. I searched my mind for a tune.

Come on everypony smile smile smile, fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine.

Right, that worked. For some reason I already started to feel happier.

Wait, how did I know that song?

I realized I was actually hearing it softly coming from the living room. Oh. At least it was fairly catchy. Taking a deep breath, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. I checked my hands first. Still recognizably human, but I could no longer move my middle and ring fingers separately. The middle one in particular looked larger. Well, I could guess where that was going. I looked over at my guitar and my heart sunk.

It made me think of my feet, and I examined them next, noticing for the first time my socks hanging oddly. I pulled one off, only to be greeted with the sight of a hoof, mint-green in coloration. Poking at it revealed that yep, it was hard and a hoof, alright.

I removed my other sock and hopped off the bed, slightly unsteady for a moment before finding my center of balance. The hooves were... different than I expected. I could still feel the ground underfoot. Or underhoof, I suppose. But there was some degree of separation – my feet felt strong and sturdy, like a pair of thick boots. Thick boots that I could still feel through. Huh. I felt firmly planted and surefooted, which was surprising given that I would expect without real feet that it would be much harder to stay upright.

The green fur started around my hooves and trailed up my legs. That was going to be hard to hide if it spread to my hands or face. How high up did it even go? I glanced at the door for a minute – they were still busy watching the show. Wouldn’t hurt to check now.

I dropped my pants and boxers. Patches of it stretched all the way up my legs, legs that seemed to be shifting oddly in proportions, my ankle and knees having moved slightly. These changes were starting to happen fast. Were they speeding up? I could see the lyre marks completely surrounded in a circle of green fur now, hinting that they might be the source. That fur stretched from them, connecting across my crotch.

My...

My...

I was supposed to have something there, something that I now very definitively did not.

“Aaaaaaaaah!” I shouted. No, that’s being too charitable. More accurately, I shrieked.

I heard clumsy footsteps clomp in the hallway. Oh, I guess Brooke probably has hooves too, the still-functioning side of my brain chipped in.

“Lyra!” she shouted. “Are you okay?”

Not even waiting for a response, she burst through the door, skidding to a stop once she saw me. In less than a fraction of a second, her face suddenly turned the brightest shade of red I had ever seen in my entire life. I could practically see steam coming off of her cheeks. Naturally, she was staring at my exposed anatomy. My new, unfamiliar exposed anatomy. I didn’t even think to do anything, I was too busy trying to process it myself.

Finally, her eyes tore away from my nethers and slowly rose to meet my face. Upon meeting my eyes, we both suddenly realized the awkwardness of the situation. My hands flew down to cover my... My hands flew down to cover up, and Brooke rapidly backed up into the hallway, slamming the door closed between us.

Wait a minute.

“You just called me Lyra again!” I yelled through the door.

So I Turned Myself To Face Me

So, there I was, standing in my room, my pants down, my hands covering my...

I still couldn’t say it, even to myself. Suffice it to say that I had found myself in abrupt possession of the incorrect equipment down there.

The signs should have been there. Not just should have – they were there, from the very beginning. The softening of features, the girly hair, even my voice, though it had been changing slowly enough that it had escaped my attention. If nothing else, Daisy had shown me a picture of the stupid unicorn. But as ridiculous as changing into a pony seemed, I hadn’t for an instant considered that I was changing into a girl pony.

And you know what? Enough was enough. For the first time all this change stuff hit me and instead of being scared or confused or depressed, I just felt angry. You can push a guy around, give him a tail and hooves, whatever, but when you stoop to messing with a guy’s dick, well, that is where I draw the line. I guess I didn’t technically count as a ‘guy’ anymore, but— didn't matter. I wasn’t going to sit around and take it anymore.

My tail lashed out behind me in dutiful agreement. You know, I was beginning to enjoy this tail thing at least. It felt good to have at least one part of my changing anatomy that was on my side.

I strode over to my closet. Screw it, if I was going to be like this, I wasn’t going to look ridiculous in baggy clothes. I pulled down an old band t-shirt that I had accidentally gotten in a small instead of a medium. It fit surprisingly well on my now much more slender frame. I was still flat-chested. Of course – it’s not like horses had boobs. At least in the same places. Um. Not going to think more on that for now.

Instead, pants. Nah, they would just be constricting, and my legs were already starting to look sort of odd. I didn’t want them to be a hindrance if things got even worse. I found a pair of shorts that I had outgrown a while back and hadn’t bothered throwing away. A minute’s work with a pair of scissors cut a hole in the back just large enough to run my tail through.

I paused to look at myself on the computer’s webcam, running a hand through my hair to get it to optimum tousled-ness. Perfect. Opening my now large and round eyes wide, I grinned widely and took a picture.

And then after a moment of indecision, my adrenaline overcame my better judgment. I deleted the two previous pictures of myself. The next time I would take a picture I would either be a horse or back to normal. I was no longer interested in documenting the results. I wanted to change them.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my door and walked out into the hall.

Around the corner, in the living room, the cartoon had stopped. I could hear Brooke and Daisy discussing something in hushed whispers. It wasn’t hard to guess what – I assumed they were thinking of a way to console me.

I stepped around the corner and coughed theatrically to draw their attention, a smirk on my face and a plan in my head. My tail whipped back and forth behind me with excitement.

It was probably stupid. Brooke had made plenty of good points about how it probably wasn’t related and how it could just make things worse instead. But at this point, ‘worse’ had pretty much lost any relevance. I had no other leads and I was tired of letting these changes happen passively. I was going to do something, no matter how seemingly ill-advised.

“Girls,” I said, “we are going to go steal a lyre.”

“And he’s the only friend you have with a car,” I said again, grousing as I headed down the last flight of stairs.

“The only one I can trust,” Daisy said cheerfully.

I rolled my eyes. Still, nothing could dampen my spirits. If anything, I had only grown more and more excited. I looked up the stairs at Brooke, who was hanging back sullenly.

She was the one that needed convincing even to come. Or rather, I made it clear that I was going to go steal the instrument whether or not anyone else decided to join me, and upon seeing that I would not be swayed, she demanded to come along. She was covered head to toe to disguise herself, a hoodie of mine, long pants, even shoes, which I had to assume were awkward with hooves.

In contrast, I felt great in shorts with my tail out. It would be suspicious, but who cares? At this point, it was as good a disguise as anything else. Heck, if someone reported a strange half-horse robber, chances are good that no one would even believe it.

At the bottom of the stairs, I grew tired of waiting for a deliberately slow Brooke and pushed the door open, walking out into the alley behind the apartments. Where, yep, Andy stood next to his beat-up old hatchback.

Not that it fazed me at this point. I walked over to him, a smile on my face at his surprise. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. I looked him up and down. He was even wearing some sort of pony t-shirt. Sigh.

“Alright,” I said, “here’s how this works. My name is Tyler and I’m turning into a pony. As is my friend. We’re gonna go and see if we can figure out how to stop it. First, no jokes about ponies. Second, no weird questions about ponies. Third, and most importantly no strange internet memes about ponies.” I stared him straight in the eye through the entire speech, daring him to disagree.

He scratched his head and had the decency to look embarrassed. “Uh. Well, I was wondering... could I maybe touch your tail?”

“Not if you want to keep that hand,” I said in a matter-of-fact manner. “Also, that counts as a weird question about ponies. Strike one.”

“Damn,” he said, with an apologetic grin.

Daisy had joined us and she punched me lightly in the arm. “Don’t be mean,” she said.

I shrugged and impatiently motioned for Brooke to hurry up. She was standing in the doorway, peering out into the alley to see if anyone else was around. It was night, and dark, meaning the streets were more-or-less deserted. Plus, y’know, anyone interested would have been paying way more attention to me than her.

She scurried out and hopped into the backseat. Andy tilted his head, but thought better of asking any questions. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. I hopped in the back along with Brooke.

“OK,” I said, as soon as Daisy and Andy were aboard and the car had started. “There’s an alley between the Physics and History buildings. It opens out onto a cross-street that they close during the day, but which is deserted at night. We’ll park there.”

“Wow,” Daisy said, slightly impressed, “you actually have this planned out.”

“Do I!” I exclaimed. “Though, to be fair, this took five minutes. There’s only like three security guards on campus at night, so it’s not as if I’m expecting any real trouble.” That might have been a slight bit of exaggeration, but seriously – we weren’t breaking into the Louvre here. I doubt they even had the budget to pay for alarm systems or anything.

I looked over at Brooke, gloomily sitting next to me. She really wasn’t looking forward to this, and I felt briefly guilty about dragging her along, even if it was pretty much her decision. I owed it to her to at least try and cheer her up.

“So,” I said, looking directly at her. “The next important step: code-names!”

She just rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched slightly.

I paused for a moment, tapping my head to indicate deep thought. “What about... Bonnie and Clyde?” Daisy snorted from the front seat. At least someone appreciated my bad attempts at humor.

“Not anything Bon-related,” Brooke said firmly.

“But I was going to be Bonnie...” I said in a mock whine. “OK then, even better, what about Harpo and Sweetiebutt?”

Brooke let out an annoyed sigh, but this time she was definitely having to hide a smile. “That’s just... Ugh. Those are the very worst names possible,” she said.

“I don’t hear you making suggestions,” I said, smirking.

She stuck her tongue out at me. “How about Tyler and Brooke?”

I took a haughty tone. “I don’t think you quite grasp the intended purpose of code-names.”

“How about Tyra and Bron-Bron?” Daisy offered helpfully, prompting a groan from Brooke.

“OK, scratch my last comment,” she said. “Those are the worst possible names.”

“See, Bonnie and Clyde aren’t looking so bad now, huh?” I said, laughing.

Brooke smiled at me, causing my own grin to grow even wider. “I guess,” she said.

It lasted only a moment before a hint of sadness entered her eyes. Her expression dropped again, the smile disappearing as quickly as it had come. “I just... what if we’re stuck this way?”

“We’re not giving up yet,” I said emphatically. “And, even if worst comes to worst, you’re discounting all the fringe benefits that come with being a pony!”

She looked at me skeptically.

“Um,” I said, thinking. “Well, kids would love you, for sure.”

“You’ll spend way less money on clothes,” Daisy chimed in.

“I really like your... mane?” Andy said. Daisy giggled softly.

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m going to have to assume that’s a reference to something and tentatively penalize you one additional half strike, mister.”

“Damn,” he said.

Brooke looked exasperated, but her eyes were brighter. I put one arm across her shoulders and swept the other forward in an expansive gesture. “Trust me,” I said. “Everything is going to be okay!”

Campus was quiet. Sort of spookily quiet. A few lights were on in some of the upper offices in the admin building across the way, but there were no signs of movement or activity. Perfect.

Daisy, Brooke, and I had made our way to the front of the history building, trying to stay in the shadows as best as we could. Technically there was no reason why we couldn’t be here, as Daisy and I were both students, but better to draw as little attention as possible. Particularly when there’d surely be a fuss when someone noticed a missing piece from the collection tomorrow.

They kept the buildings locked after ten PM, but that wouldn’t be a problem. I had my student ID, and they had a simple keycard lock so—

“Hey,” Brooke whispered. “What if they record which cards are used to open the doors?”

I blinked. “They can do that?”

Daisy shrugged and peered at the little sliding scanner for a moment. “Maybe, maybe not. We could try something different though.”

She slipped into the bushes to the right of the entrance, the leaves rustling with her movement. A moment later a hand popped out, impatiently gesturing for us to follow.

Brooke and I ducked and scrambled to push through the foliage. The bushes that lined the building were pretty thick, but once you got through the exterior there was a narrow gap between them and the wall. Daisy was making her way along the building, stopping occasionally to reach up and try the windows.

Sure enough, one was unsecured, and upon Daisy’s gentle push it slid up, allowing entry into an empty classroom. This was turning out to be just as easy as I expected.

“OK,” I said, “Brooke, you wait here and keep an eye out. Daisy, we’ll—”

“I’m coming with you,” Brooke said, with a tone of voice that allowed no disagreement.

I looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you thought this was a bad idea.”

“I do, which is why I’m coming along. To make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” She forced a smile at me, but still seemed entirely too tense.

Daisy spoke up, indignantly. “What, you don’t think that I could keep him out of trou—” She couldn’t keep a straight face anymore and started snickering, one hand over her mouth to try and mute the noise. “Okay, okay, you two have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

I grinned and peeked into the window, confirming the darkened room was empty. “No promises,” I chirped, and scrambled up and through, Brooke following close behind.

As awesome as hooves were, there was one very distinctive downside. They were loud as hell. As much as I tried to move carefully and quietly, each step was marked by a clopping sound as hoof struck tile, echoing throughout the building.

Brooke fared much better with her shoes, though she also seemed to be considerably more unsteady than me. She was pretty jumpy, and the noise I was making had her particularly on edge as we made our way down the deserted halls. I would have reassured her, but as soon as I opened my mouth to do so, she pressed a finger against her lips and glared at me. Psh, like I could say anything louder than the racket my hooves were already making.

At least we were on the right floor, though due to the layout of the building we had to walk further than expected. It took several long hallways to get back around to the front lobby, where the museum area was located. Since there wasn’t much other than classrooms at this level, it meant no reason for anyone else to be around. There might be a professor or two still working in one of the offices on the upper floors, but we’d be in and out without them even noticing.

Sure enough, we reached the front lobby without seeing signs of anyone else, and I happily skipped across to the display case that held my lyre. Well, the lyre. The lyre that would be my lyre in just a minute.

It was exactly as I remembered, simple in construction – no, not just simple, elegant. Seven strings, the precise number to allow for more complicated compositions without being needlessly flashy. The perfect size to make it easily manageable when I—

OW!

With no warning whatsoever, a sharp lancing pain struck me right in the center of my forehead. It was as bad as ten ice-cream headaches at the same time, but all of them focused at a single point at the front of my head rather than at my temples. I stumbled forward, arms flailing to grab something for support, and felt Brooke catch me from behind to steady me.

What was that? I blearily turned to look at Brooke, my eyes involuntarily watering from the pain. “I-I’m fine,” I said, weakly. The pain had already started to recede, as fleeting as it was intense.

Her face was pale and her eyes focused on something above me. I looked up, and then behind me, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. She shook her head. “You... you have a horn,” she said.

I reached up, my hand running through my hair until it hit a sudden obstruction. A solid nub, just barely sticking up out of my head. It felt sore, and even a slight touch was enough to trigger a weaker echo of the previous ache, but it was firm. Like one more piece of my skull.

Well. Couldn’t be a unicorn without the horn, right? Knew this was coming sooner or later.

I shook my head to clear it. The pain seemed to just be a temporary thing, and we had more important concerns. Brooke still looked concerned, but I pointed up at the lyre with a grin.

She shrugged, unimpressed. How could she not see how awesome it was? Some people wouldn’t know craftsmanship if it bucked them in the face. Sigh.

“How are we going to get it out?” she asked in a whisper.

I lightly pressed the plexiglass sliding panel that made up the front of the case. It wobbled slightly, showing a bit of give. The lock was a basic one, a metal bolt that prevented the door from moving over unless the key had been inserted and turned. Simple enough. Except I had completely forgotten about needing to deal with this part.

Hm.

I raised one hoof and tapped it against the tile, thinking deeply. Turning around I looked back across the rest of the lobby-slash-museum and repeated the process, gauging my footing. Maybe...

I motioned for Brooke to stand next to me, and grabbed ahold of her shoulders firmly, getting the angle just right. It felt a little weird, but it would probably be best to go partially from the side.

One leg drew up as I used my grip on Brooke to keep my balance. Her mouth opened in horror as she realized what I was about to do. Too late!

My leg lashed out, kicking at the plexiglass panel and scoring a direct hit on the lock. The sound was like a gunshot, practically deafening me. My leg felt even stronger in action than I expected it to, but the plexiglass didn’t break. Science: 1, Lyra: 0. But, see, the great thing about brute force is that if it doesn’t work at first, it just means you aren’t using enough.

Brooke looked horrified as I kicked again... and again, the unholy racket just as loud as before. On the fourth blow, I heard a snap before a wailing sound kicked in. I bounced up in joy and turned to look – sure enough, the area around the lock had shattered, meaning it was trivial to slide the door open and seize my prize.

I hugged the lyre close to my chest, ecstatic at our success. I was shaking, I was so happy! Or wait, that was more violent than usual. Opening my eyes I saw Brooke shaking me roughly and realized something else that was probably important. That wailing I heard? Breaking the lock had triggered some kind of alarm, from the sound of it maybe even the same system as the fire alarm. Uh oh. Maybe they protected their stupid ancient junk better than I had expected.

OK, no problem though, this is why we planned ahead and had a getaway driver ready. We would just exit via the convenient front door and make our way to our clever escape route. I thought of explaining this to Brooke, but the blaring alarm was too loud to talk over, so I just ran to the door. Right as it opened.

To reveal a campus security guard, obviously investigating the alarm.

I came to a screeching halt, and realized the lyre was still in my arms, making my guilt completely apparent. Plus I didn’t particularly want to field questions about my admittedly bizarre appearance on top of the criminal charges. “RUN!” I shouted, as loud as I could.

Initially upon seeing me, he looked as surprised as I was, but me taking off in the opposite direction cleared up matters, and he chased after us, in hot pursuit. I flew down the hallways, Brooke close behind.

One useful realization: as loud as the hooves were, they were also fast. I bet I broke a few sprinting records as I skidded around a corner and kept going. I thought back to Brooke’s insistence on wearing shoes. Who’s the smart one now, eh?

That’s when I realized that she was no longer behind me. I slowed my pace, looking over my shoulder, just in time to hear a scream from around the corner. She was in danger!

Without any hesitation whatsoever, I reversed course and ran back down the hall to find the guard grabbing at her arm, trying to restrain her. I stood still for one moment, then instinctively crouched down, dropping the lyre to free my hands. My ears lay flat against my skull and one hoof brushed against the floor, measuring my traction.

“Stay away from my Bon-Bon!” I screamed, launching myself at full speed. At the last moment, I leapt into the air to crash into the guard, landing right on top, and from the looks of it, knocking the wind out of him.

I saw Bon-Bon move towards me out of the corner of my eye and I raised a hand to stop her. “Go!” I ordered “I’ll catch up!”

I had to do something about this first.

Uhhh.

I was still sitting on his chest, but I grabbed the guard by his shirt and his shoulders off the ground, my adrenaline giving me a rush of strength. I stared right into his eyes and realized what a sight I must have been. Which gave me an idea.

I flared my ears out, opened my eyes as wide as they would go, and yelled as loud as I could directly into his face. Something about a strange and furious half-horse creature full-body tackling you and then screaming like a banshee tends to cause panic, if the guard was any indication. He produced a strangled yell in response and I dropped him to the floor, leaving him stunned as I galloped off after Bon-Bon, stopping for only an instant to scoop up the lyre as I went.

We still had option #2 for escape: just ducking out the window we came in. Coming into the last hallway, I saw Bon-Bon waiting at the door to that room, apparently being on the same wavelength as me, as usual. I ran in right behind her, relishing the look of relief written across her face. We wasted no time at all diving through the window and back out into the bushes, the sound of the alarm still loud but not quite as deafening in the cool night air.

That had been close! Now we just needed to—

A flashlight shone into the bushes, where our leaping arrival had made a conspicuous noise. “Who’s there?” a deep voice demanded.

We froze, trying to avoid making any sound or movement. My eyes frantically swiveled, trying to find a suitable escape, but there was no good way out of things this time. I could try and attack again, but there was no telling how many guards there were, or if they had friggin’ tasers or something.

The footsteps approached all too fast, as the light drew closer, piercing into the bushes...

“Oh, thank god!” I heard a familiar voice say. “I just saw these weird people run off! You better hurry and catch them!”

“What? Where?” the deep voice asked, alarmed.

“That way! Hurry!” The light from the flashlight vanished and the sound of running trailed off into the distance.

“Am I good or what?” Daisy said, peering into the bushes at us. “Now let’s get out of here before anyone else shows up. I think you guys woke up the whole university!”

The car was started and waiting for us. Daisy hopped up front again and Bon-Bon and I dove into the back, sprawling across the seat.

As we took off, I couldn’t help but erupt into laughter, my infectious joy causing everyone to join in. Even Bon was overcome with giggles. Now that right there, that was a crazy caper at its very best. You never remember the ones that go well, it’s always when things are on the verge of disaster that it’s a story for the ages.

“The look on your face when I kicked that display case!” I said, between snorts of laughter.

“I can’t believe you!” Bon-Bon exclaimed, but she couldn’t suppress that marvelous smile. “I thought you had a plan!”

“Oh Bonny, you should know my plans by now!” I said happily. “Step one: get inside. Step two: improvise!”

She looked at me strangely, but it just caused me to laugh harder. She always complained, but she would go along with me no matter what. I knew she secretly enjoyed the excitement just as much as I did.

“Tyler?” Daisy said from the front seat. Probably talking to the guy driving.

I poked Bon-Bon in the side, still grinning. “I can’t believe you wore shoes! No wonder you couldn’t keep up when we had to run.”

“Tyler!” Daisy said.

Bon-Bon started to sit up and pulled away from me. I looked over at her, confused. She wasn’t laughing at all any more. In fact, she looked scared. Terrified.

“Whoa, Bon-Bon, you look like you just saw a changeling. Are you okay?” I smiled, trying to make light of matters. She had nightmares for weeks after the whole changeling invasion thing, but we had worked through it together and could joke about it. Even if it was in slightly poor taste.

“Lyra?” Daisy said, quietly.

I looked up at her, realizing how quiet it had gotten. “Huh? What?”

I was confused. We had lapsed into silence, Daisy apparently deep in thought, but I had no idea about what. Eventually she had demanded the driver guy pull over to the side of the road, both her and Bon-Bon staring at me like I was some sort of wild animal.

“Get out,” she said, her voice cold and hard.

I obliged and stepped out of the car. The moon was out, bathing our surroundings in a silvery light. It was a nice night, a good night for a walk, or to watch stars, or to compose a new song.

The three others surrounded me, my back to the car. What was going on? Daisy stood in the center, shaking slightly but her expression that of anger. The guy who had been driving kept looking to Daisy uncertainly, as he stood to the side arms slightly lifted. I knew that posture. He would try to grab me if I ran. Why would I run?

And Bon-Bon. She was standing the furthest away from me, as if she couldn’t stand to be too close. She stared straight at me but her eyes were full of fear. Didn’t she recognize me? Why would she ever be scared of me?

“I am going to ask you some questions,” Daisy said. Her tone was icy and tightly controlled. “I want you to think very carefully about the answers.”

I nodded, feeling frightened myself. Whatever had happened, it was something really wrong.

“What’s your name?” Daisy asked.

What? That was it? “Lyra Heartstrings,” I said. Daisy winced, but what was she expecting?

“What’s her name?” she asked, one arm thrust back to point at Bon-Bon.

“That’s Bon-Bon,” I said. “What are you—”

“What’s my name?” Daisy interrupted, continuing her line of inquiry.

“It’s Daisy,” I said. “Do you think I don’t know who you are?”

She paused for a moment at that. “I... wasn’t sure. But how...” Her voice trailed off as she looked away. After a long moment of silence, she turned towards me again, her face more serious than I had ever seen it. “If you know who I am, you know how we met. Right?”

Well, of course. It was at...

Huh.

When was that, again?

We were... We were at a party. That’s right.

Pinkie had thrown a party for... Wait.

Pinkie wasn’t there at all. A party where Pinkie Pie didn’t show up? Inconceivable!

But she wasn’t. I was there as part of the band, playing my... Huh? I should have been playing my lyre, I didn’t play any other instruments. That wasn’t right either though.

I was...

I...

Who was I?

I covered my face with my hands. What was going on? I heard Daisy say something, then the voice of... Bon-Bon? Or no, the voice was right, but the name wasn’t.

Who was I?

I had done something wrong. Horribly horribly wrong. I didn’t mean to! I just... Things just happened!

I could fix this. I had to fix this.

Who was I?

This was important.

Who was I?

I looked up to see my vision sliding further and further away, as if looking back as I traveled into a long, dark tunnel. The world turned sideways and the ground drew near. Then, as my sight had almost vanished entirely, I saw Bon-Bon’s face, tears in her eyes.

Sorry, Bon. I had to fix this. You’d do the same thing.

And then everything went dark.

But I've Never Caught A Glimpse

I dreamt of nothing.

When I woke up, I was back in my apartment. Lying in the empty bedroom. It was morning. Late morning, given the light streaming through the windows.

I was on my side, the warmth of the sun slightly uncomfortable. My body was different than normal. The muscles were unfamiliar, my posture strange. Even my vision was slightly off. That would take some time to become accustomed to.

In front of me was a person I did not know. He wore glasses and had close-cropped black hair. He was not wearing a white coat, but I recognized the thing around his neck as a stethoscope. So he was probably a doctor.

He looked at me with a soothing smile and pressed the cold metal instrument against my chest. I flinched slightly at the touch. His focus on my heart drew my own attention to it. The beats were slow, drawn out. From the doctor’s reaction apparently that was not out of the ordinary.

“Everything looks normal,” he said, turning away from me. I noticed for the first time that Daisy was standing right behind him. She looked at me with concern. Her eyes were red. She had likely been crying.

I moved my head, looking at the rest of the room. Andy was here, too. He stood watching us with his arms crossed. That meant the doctor person must be his roommate. So, not a doctor, a veterinarian. Made more sense.

Daisy looked at me. Her mouth opened and shut without a sound, indicating she was not sure what to say. “Are you okay?” she said, finally.

“Yes,” I said in response. I sounded hoarse. Could probably use a drink of water. “Can I have some water?” I said. Andy nodded and hurried out of the room.

The veterinarian had taken several steps back. He was staring at me. “I know you said it could talk, but I didn’t quite believe you.”

“He’s not an it,” Daisy snapped.

The veterinarian frowned. “Also not a he.”

I moved my legs. They worked fine, just different than when I was human. It took me an awkward moment to stand. Daisy rushed to my side and tried to help. Once I was actually on my feet, I was fine.

Walking was more difficult. It was not in any way like crawling. One foot at a time, carefully.

The veterinarian watched me for a moment. “Start with the back leg, then the front. One side, then the other.”

I tried that. It took a few wobbly attempts, but it worked. My head bobbed slightly along with the movement, keeping my balance.

Andy returned, carefully holding a cereal bowl filled with water. “I didn’t know if a glass would work, so...”

I slowly walked over to him. The movements had already started to click. Even if my brain did not know how, my muscles remembered. Leaning down, I took a long drink. The bowl was quickly emptied.

I looked up and straight ahead. Just a plain wall in front of me.

Daisy had pulled the veterinarian and Andy off to the side. They were conversing in whispers. My ears automatically swiveled in the direction of the sound. My hearing was better now than it was before, though it needed to be directed. But that happened instinctively.

“There’s clearly something still wrong with him!” Daisy hissed, furiously. “He’s not like... this!”

“What do you expect me to do?” the veterinarian asked.

“You talked about an animal psychology class last semester,” Andy whispered. “Couldn’t you use something from that?”

“That’s stuff like animals being scared of loud noises and the proper attitude to keep a dog calm,” the veterinarian said. “I must have missed the lecture on what to do when the talking green pony has a voice in its head!”

“I don’t have a voice in my head,” I said. They all turned to me, surprised at my interruption. “It’s gone now.”

I walked forward to leave the room, pushing my nose against the door to open it.

There was another pony pacing back and forth in the hallway. It opened its mouth and started to move in my direction, but stopped. I ignored it.

I walked through the living room. There was an instrument sitting on the floor. It wasn’t important either.

I was going to the kitchen. I turned my head to the side and gripped the refrigerator’s handle in my mouth. Then it was simple to pull my body back. The door swung open. Someone had gone shopping. There were apples inside, so I took one in my teeth before closing the refrigerator again.

I ate the apple on the kitchen floor. It tasted fresh. It would be more normal if it wasn’t cold from the refrigerator.

Daisy walked in behind me. “Tyler...” she started. “Are you Tyler?”

“Yes,” I said.

She did not appear to be happy. Normally she would be smiling. “Are... are you feeling okay?”

I thought about that for a moment.

“No,” I said. I was not feeling okay.

I was not feeling anything at all.

The veterinarian had more tests to do. His name was Mark, he told me.

He gave me a few shots as well. Horses get different diseases than humans do. I didn’t know if I was actually a horse or not. It was still the safest option to be prepared.

The other pony got examined and had shots too. I left when it came in and went to sit in the living room instead. It would have been a good time to stop and think.

I didn’t have anything to think about. I just waited.

After a few minutes, Andy came out and waited with me. He was quiet too, but it looked like he had plenty to think about. He kept looking at me, and then the instrument thing.

It was in the room still. I thought for a moment that it would be nice if someone would take it away.

It was not important enough to matter.

After some time, the veterinarian and Daisy came out. They discussed me and the other pony.

Daisy got angry at him when he suggested taking us to somewhere where we could be more carefully taken care of.

They were talking about me as if I wasn’t in the room. I did not mind. It didn’t concern me.

He left, along with Andy. That left just me, Daisy, and the other pony. The other pony was staying away from me.

We had apples and carrots for lunch. I took my food to eat alone.

Most of the day I was alone.

Daisy occasionally tried to start a conversation, but I did not have much to say. She eventually just started talking about what had happened last night.

I already knew most of it. All the talking just upset her more.

She went to the other room with the other pony for a long time. I could hear the faint sound of the conversation but not what they were saying. There was no reason to try and listen.

After that, she stayed away from me too.

I waited. Not for anything, particularly. Just because there wasn’t anything else to do.

We had more apples and carrots for dinner. Daisy tried to make a joke about hay fries and daffodil sandwiches.

I took my food to eat alone.

As the sun went down, Daisy asked where I wanted to sleep. It didn’t matter.

She offered the bed, but I walked to the empty bedroom. There were blankets in there still. I pulled them out into a more flat pile and sat down there.

It was still early. I was not particularly tired. I did not have anything better to do. I sat on the blankets, facing the windows.

The light outside turned orange but eventually gave way to darkness.

I sat in the darkness.

Later on, I heard a noise behind me. I did not look, but I could tell someone had opened the door.

Then I felt warmth behind me. The other pony had sat down next to me. It leaned against me.

I shifted uncertainly.

I could feel the other pony place its head on my back, and one foreleg pull me closer to it. My back was uncomfortably warm. And wet.

She was crying.

I could hear it too, though the sound was very soft. She was not sobbing or wailing, she was just crying. It was worse that way.

I had caused it, hadn’t I?

Is that why I suddenly felt so awful?

The other pony had eventually fallen asleep, still huddled up next to me.

I carefully extracted myself from her grasp, trying not to wake her. As I stood up, she shifted, reaching out for me. Her lips moved, mouthing a name. But she remained asleep.

Now that I stood apart from her again, I missed the warmth of her body against mine. I felt cold, and that awful feeling inside deepened. That was a start. I needed to go... somewhere.

I quietly walked out, only looking back once at the pony still sitting in the midst of the blankets. In the living room, Daisy was sprawled out on the floor, snoring softly. She had decided to stay with us rather than go home. It did not look very comfortable on the carpet.

I walked back to my room and pulled the blanket off my bed with my teeth. I returned to the living room, and gently placed it over her. It would not make the floor any softer, but it would help with the cold.

Opening the door out to the building’s hallway was more difficult. Unlocking it was not bad, but to open the door I had to grip the knob it my teeth and it kept slipping. After several tries, I got it open. My neck ached slightly from all the twisting.

The door to the stairwell was better. Rather than a knob, it had a handle that turned. Even without a hand, my hoof was able to push it down and a shoulder against the door caused it to swing open easily. Even the stairs were manageable. They were meant for humans, meaning they were much more narrow and steep than I would have preferred, but it was simple as long as I took my time.

At the very top, a door opened out onto the roof. Thankfully it was unlocked. My old roommate used to come up to the roof to smoke occasionally, and I was counting on it being accessible.

I trotted out onto the roof. There wasn’t much up here other than boxy machines that handled the building’s ventilation. That was fine.

I wasn’t concerned with the roof itself. I just needed a quiet place to be alone again.

I looked up into the sky. The moon was out, providing soft light. I turned in a small circle, craning my head upwards. There was the North Star, always shining brightly. Not many other stars were visible. Hm, where were they all at? Were there just not as many? No, it was because we were in the city, and the lights tended to drown out—

Wait, that was it. I grabbed ahold of that questioning thought tightly, squeezing my eyes shut. It threatened to slip away back into the recesses of my mind, but I fought the impulse.

“Stop,” I said, out loud.

There wasn’t exactly anyone around to hear. Besides myself. Well, and the person that I hoped was still there, somehow.

“I need to— We need to talk.” I swallowed. Was I just talking to myself? I still felt nothing. Nothing except that anxious pain that hadn’t quite subsided. The pain from the other pony crying.

I held onto it like a lifeline. It was the one thing keeping me from sliding back into emptiness.

“We have to do this together. I don’t know why. Or how.”

Was there a point? Hollow words by an empty pony on a deserted roof.

But they were all I had.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But you can’t just go away.”

That was what happened, wasn’t it? She was gone. That was what I wanted, what I had been looking for from the beginning.

No. That wasn’t right. Or yes, it was what I wanted, but it was still wrong.

“I think if you go, some of me goes away as well. I— I can’t do this alone.”

I took a shaking breath.

What should I do? I had to do something.

The wind gently blew as I stood in silence on the deserted roof. One of the machines whirred to life, softly humming.

“I don’t want you to go away. I just don’t want to go away either.”

I don’t know how we got tangled up. But I was no better when she left as I was when she had taken over.

I didn’t know what to say or do.

“I... I guess I don’t even know anything about you at all, huh?”

She clearly wasn't going to start talking about herself. But... I couldn't imagine this situation being any easier for her than it was for me. She had to be just as twisted up, stuck in the head of some guy that she knew nothing about.

We were both strangers, but we were in this together now. And that thought made me realize what I should do.

It was a silly idea, but I had to do it. Not because I thought it would work. But because it was the right thing to do.

I cleared my throat, feeling foolish. “Uh. Hi. My name is Tyler Hawkins. I was born on May 2nd, 1995 in...”

I trailed off. Those were just facts and figures. They weren’t really important. They weren’t who I was.

I began again, uncertainly. “I started playing the guitar at eleven. I had to beg and plead to get out of having to take piano lessons like all the other kids, but it was probably the best decision of my entire life.”

The words started to flow faster, more assured. “When I first met my first teacher, Mr. Nichols, I thought he was irredeemably lame and that the lessons would be awful. Heh. I was probably a pretty dumb kid, now that I think about it. And dead wrong in that case. He taught me a great appreciation for music, and I learned how the sounds flowing through my brain corresponded to melody, harmony, rhythm. All the ways to actually look at music and make it real.”

I smiled, the images easily rising to mind, bringing with them long-forgotten emotions. “Where everyone else was playing by rote, he encouraged me to find my own path. I can still remember how proud he was at that first recital, when I performed an original piece. It was amateurish, I know, but it was mine.”

“It's still an important memory to me. I guess that was when I would have earned my cutie mark, if I was a pony. It felt like for the first time that I had a place, a point to my being here. Have you ever have that feeling?”

There was nothing but silence. But I got the feeling that the answer was yes.

“Not that things went perfect after then.” My smile twisted a little. “I had plenty of ups and downs. There were so many times when I doubted whether it was really what I was meant to do for the rest of my life. It can be hard to pay the bills as a starving artist. And I wasn’t always the easiest to get along with.”

I paused to sit down and make myself comfortable, looking up at the stars again. “I don’t know if you ever played in a band or anything, but boy. Musicians can be crazy. I have so many stories of shows going horribly horribly wrong, but in retrospect they were probably pretty amusing...”

Out under the night sky, alone but not, I talked and talked and talked. Funny stories, laughing at my own bad jokes. Sad memories, things that I had deliberately not thought on for many years. Stories about my friends, including how I had actually met Daisy, and all the scrapes we had made it through together. Even talking about Brooke, the moment that I had first met her and was completely star-struck.

An hour passed, then another, my voice eventually dying away to a hoarse whisper.

When I finally stood again, I felt different. I still didn’t know exactly who I was, or what was inside me, or what would come in the future. And honestly, that still scared me. A lot.

But I was no longer so empty inside, and that was a good first step.

Of How The Others Must See The Faker

The next morning, I was jarred to consciousness by a banging sound. My natural instinct was to just hope it would quiet down and go away, but consciousness brought another revelation. I wasn’t the only one sleeping in the pile of blankets. Brooke was curled up with me, both forelegs wrapped around my stomach and her face nuzzled up against my chest.

I gazed down at her, completely shocked. I had been completely exhausted after my time on the roof last night, both mentally and physically, but when I had made my stumbling way back into the apartment and collapsed next to Brooke, we hadn’t been this cuddled up. One or the other of us must get particularly grabby in her sleep. And judging from her tight grip, it wasn’t me.

The sound resumed, and I realized it was someone angrily knocking on the front door. This time it was persistent enough to cause Brooke’s eyelids to crack open. She was still only half awake, and didn’t seem inclined to let go of me, but with a bit of care I extricated myself from her grasp. I tried to ignore the blush that had appeared on my face.

I trotted over to look out across the short hallway into the living room. I could see Daisy was up as well, and looking frazzled. She glanced at me, then back at the door before placing a finger over her mouth.

I nodded back. It made sense. No one home, that was the safest way to play it. But a thought surfaced in my mind: who would actually be knocking on my door? And with such insistence? It’s not like I had usually friends stopping by in the mornings. Most of the time it was just my damn landlord, complaining when I was even the slightest bit late with— Oh. This would be a problem.

“Open up!” The voice confirmed it, even muffled as it was from the door. What was particularly worrying was that he had a key. And an unfortunately low level of concern for the privacy of tenants – at least the ones who didn’t pay, a category that currently included me.

It’s not like I meant to stiff him. But money concerns being what they were, I was already planning on taking advantage of every last day I could and getting the check in as late as possible on the 3rd. And then, well, pony matters had taken precedence. Unfortunately, just because I had forgotten about my other problems didn’t mean they had forgotten about me. And today was the... 6th? Yeah. Uh oh.

I looked around the bedroom, searching for a place to hide. Not here, for sure. This bedroom was still completely empty save for the small pile of blankets we had been sleeping on and a very worried-looking Brooke.

Come to think of it, the whole apartment was pretty bare, meaning the best option was my room. Though I couldn’t think of where. Uh. Under my bed? Could we fit? It was a possibility.

“I’m coming in,” my landlord yelled through the door. I could hear the muted jingle of keys. Man, my hearing really was a lot better, huh? Or else he was deliberately shaking his keyring as a veiled threat.

No time to ponder it. Daisy panicked as well, having realized that staying quiet wasn’t going to work. I looked back at Brooke and jerked my head urgently before galloping off towards my bedroom. After a moment of confusion, she took the hint and her legs kicked into gear, scurrying after me.

We ducked into the bedroom and I pushed against the door to cause it to swing shut. Once safely closed, I pressed the side of my head against the wood, trying to hear what was going on. Out of one corner of my eye, I could see Brooke, still standing around uncertainly staring at me.

I heard the door open. “Uh. Yes, can I help you?” That was Daisy’s voice. Okay, good.

“I’m looking for Tyler. Tyler Hawkins. Who are you?” His voice was laced with suspicion. The guy always did think I was up to no good, for some reason. Even though I had tried to be a model tenant. ...Occasional late rent payments aside.

“A friend,” Daisy said, lifting her voice to deliberately try and sound helpful. “He’s not around right now.”

“Uh huh,” the landlord said, unconvinced. “I think I’ll take a look around and make sure of that.” I involuntary flinched. Should have guessed, but that meant this would be a serious problem.

“N-No!” Daisy exclaimed, losing her composure for a moment. “Like I said, he’s not here. And you can’t just come in.”

“Look, lady, as of now your friend is significantly overdue on his rent. And it isn’t the first time. Now since I own these apartments, it is my perfect legal right to go wherever I damn well please. And if you want to get the police involved, be my guest, cause I know whose ass they’ll be throwing out on the streets.”

Great. I knew from previous experience that he was not one willing to stop poking around when it came to getting his money. Which meant we needed a place to hide. Quickly.

I looked around the room, my eyes flicking from place to place wildly. Nope, we would definitely not fit under the bed. We were way too large to just hide under a blanket or something without it being suspicious. And the shallow closet in here would be too cramped for two even if it wasn’t already way too full of junk. Brooke just stood there, watching me as I quickly ran through options and discarded them.

Time to think outside the box. Looking at her unmoving observation of my actions gave me an idea. A slightly crazy idea, but it might work: hiding right in plain sight.

“Hurry,” I said in a urgent whisper. I hopped up onto the bed, getting surprising lift from my legs. Either I was much stronger or much lighter than I expected. I motioned with one hoof for Brooke to join me, smiling encouragingly as she clambered up next to me.

“...Lyra?” she asked, softly. Oh. Of course! In the rush I had completely forgotten about... well, about nearly all of yesterday, and the admittedly dark place I was in. And I hadn’t the chance to reassure Brooke in any way, after treating her so horribly. Though, this wasn’t exactly a great opportunity either.

“I’m... I’m better now,” I said, simply. “But I need you to stand absolutely still, okay?” A thought suddenly popped into my head and impulsively I acted on it, reaching over to kiss her lightly on the cheek.

That caused her to freeze up, her face turning red. I saw a smile creep across her lips before I turned to look straight ahead myself.

We waited a moment, the sounds of voices talking out in the apartment filtering in. The words were hard to make out exactly, but it seemed to be a pretty heated argument. A raised exclamation had to have been made by Daisy. Then stomping footsteps drawing close. The door swung open as the pudgy form of our unwanted intruder burst in.

I concentrated very very hard on staying still. No ear twitches, no tail wiggles, no eye movements. The warmth of Brooke pressed against my side was helpfully calming. I could still see the landlord in my peripheral vision as he stared at me and Brooke.

“What the hell are those?” he asked, incredulously. Uh oh. He turned back towards Daisy, who was standing in the doorway.

I had a moment while his back was to me. My head turned slightly to stare right at Daisy, and I closed one eye in an exaggerated wink.

Her mouth dropped open. And then curved up into an incredulous smile. “Those are... Those are plushies. Life-size. From My Little Pony, surely you’ve heard of it?”

I stared forwards again right as the landlord turned to look questioningly at us once more. He blinked, quiet for a moment. And then he turned away, making a disgusted sound. “Whatever. I don’t care about the weird shit you people are into, I just need the rent. Immediately.”

“Like I said, I will call him up and get it taken care of today.” Daisy stepped back into the hallway, trying to get him to follow.

He gave one last stare at us, shaking his head slightly in disbelief before following her out into the hallway, already starting on working up another angry tirade.

I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the whole time. We relaxed slightly, but stood in the same position, waiting until we heard his complaints die away and the front door open and slam shut again.

A broad grin stretched across my face. That had actually worked! I turned to Brooke, seeing her mirror my joy. Then I heard footsteps rapidly approaching and faced the door just in time to see Daisy run in and grab me in a big hug, whirling me around the room in a circle.

Whoo! I guess I was lighter than normal. Or that the normal laws of mass and acceleration didn’t apply to Daisy. Either of these options were equally probable.

She set me down on the bed again. “Tyler?” she asked. “Are you... you?”

I smiled. “Yes. And I’m really sorry about yesterday. I’m still trying to get this all sorted out, but I talked with Lyra. Sort of. And I think we have an agreement for now, maybe. I don’t know that it’s all figured out, but... it’s better.”

I thought I could see tears in Daisy’s eyes and she grabbed me again, squeezing me tightly. “I thought you were gone, for good! Oh my god, it was terrifying. And... and... jeez, you are the most cuddly thing imaginable, do you know that?”

I patted her on the back with one hoof. “I missed you too, Daze.”

She released me and wiped her eyes. I took a moment to turn to look at Brooke, who was again doing nothing but observing us, a blank look on her face. As soon as my eyes hit hers, her mouth wrestled for a moment before turning into a tentative smile. “I-I’m glad you’re okay,” she said.

“But what are we going to do about that?” Daisy asked, waving an arm behind her. “That jerk said he was going to be back tomorrow and every morning after.”

I raised one hoof to my chin. “Well. I suppose we should pay him.” I had just about enough in my bank account to cover another month, though that would leave nothing else. But it’s not like I had any idea what else to spend it on anymore. Plus it’d be good to get that money out before I somehow got reported as missing or similar, because I sure wouldn’t be able to prove that I was Tyler Hawkins anymore.

I hopped off the bed and searched around on the floor for the pair of pants that had my wallet in them. Ugh, my sense of smell was also much better now, and some of these hadn’t been washed in a while. But, my search did turn up the wallet and grabbing it in my teeth, I raised it up for Daisy to take.

“We just need to go to an ATM,” I said. “I don’t have much, but it should cover a month. Enough time for us to figure out a long-term plan.” I looked back at Brooke, worried that mention of our condition as being more than temporary might have upset her – any thought of the future was scary in its own right. But she seemed okay, just looking off into space, apparently thinking of something of her own.

“Okay,” Daisy said. “I need to run home, myself. Pick up some clothes, an overnight bag. I’m not leaving you guys alone here.” She caught my expression. “No arguments, Tyler.”

I grumbled under my breath, but nodded, hopping down to the floor. “There’s a convenience store right around the block we could—”

“No!” Brooke said abruptly. “Just Daisy should go.”

Daisy looked down at me and laughed. “Yeah, she has a point. You’re gonna stick out just a little walking around like that.”

Sigh. I just didn’t feel like staying cooped up in the apartment all day again. I frowned, but it was clearly the only option. “Okay,” I said. “Um. My PIN number is 6281. Just withdraw everything, if you can.”

Daisy opened up my wallet and retrieved the ATM card. I turned towards the door and started to trot out alongside her.

“W-wait!” Brooke said. “Uh, Daisy, could I get you to pick a few things up for me?”

I stopped, perplexed. Daisy seemed to be equally confused.

Brooke’s eyes flicked back and forth between us. “Tyler, give us a minute? It’s uh... girl stuff.”

I nodded and started to leave when a realization struck. “Wait a minute,” I said. “I’m a girl too, now. Technically.” I smirked at the both of them.

Brooke’s only response was to glare at me. Daisy shrugged helplessly, seeming to be amused at the whole situation.

Girls! I’ll never understand them. Even when I am one.

I sat in the empty bedroom, staring wistfully out the windows. It looked like a nice day outside, and I envied Daisy, off somewhere enjoying it. What I wouldn’t give to be out there, galloping in the open, the wind blowing through my mane and tail.

Hey, what about the roof? Sure, during the day, I ran the risk of bumping into someone in the hall or stairwell. Not to mention if anyone else had gotten in the habit of smoking up there. And it wasn’t exactly the largest or most convenient place to frolic around in. But— Okay, basically there were plenty of reasons why it was a horrible idea. Didn’t stop me from thinking about it though.

Brooke trotted into the room, interrupting my train of thought. She had something delicately held in her mouth... my lyre.

Heh, the instrument that I went to so much trouble to steal, and then promptly ignored. At least it appeared to still be in good condition and I hadn’t tried to smash it or anything. Just the sight of the lyre raised my spirits, though at this point it was pretty clear that it wouldn’t be the key to undoing our transformation.

I... I hated to admit it to myself, but deep down I was beginning to think that this wasn’t simply a curse or a magic trick that we could reverse and get back to normal.

Brooke smiled at me encouragingly and waved one hoof at the lyre. “I thought you could try and play it? Maybe that would cheer you up.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” I said. I was pretty curious about the thing, after all. Plus, if I had a lyre as a cutie mark, presumably that meant I would be good at playing it.

I reached down with my mouth, picking it up. And then stopped, realizing I had a problem here. I sorta needed all four legs to stand here. After a moment of consideration, I sat down on my rump to free my two front hooves and awkwardly held it cradled in those forelegs.

Step one, complete. Now I just needed to—

I promptly dropped the lyre as soon as I moved one hoof in a position to play it. Gah. And that was still before considering how I’d be able to pluck the closely-set strings without the fine motor control of fingers.

Brooke giggled, her head tilted slightly as she watched with amusement. “No, no, no,” she said. “You’re supposed to use magic.”

I blinked. “Magic?” I said. “Isn’t that a little silly?” Brooke rolled her eyes.

Well, I was a unicorn after all. Who’s to say that I didn’t have legit magic? I hadn’t really stopped to consider it, and the thought made me a little bit excited.

I reached up and tapped my horn experimentally. Well, it was there, alright. I got on my hooves again and tilted my head down towards the lyre. No idea if my horn actually needed to be pointing at it or not, but might as well. As I closed my eyes I tried to think serene thoughts. Serene floaty thoughts.

Ommmmm.

…

One eye cracked open, and I saw the lyre still sitting there untouched.

Hmph.

Okay, well, a different approach. I grimaced with concentration, my forehead wrinkling and every muscle tensing. I stared at the lyre with one-hundred percent intensity, sending every psychic signal I could out to cause it to lift up off the ground.

Move.

Move, dammit. Move!

I felt like I was about to pop a blood vessel somewhere.

But for the lyre, nope. Not even a twitch.

Brooke giggled again. I sighed heavily, but she just shook her head, her curly hair bobbing. “Look,” she said, “it’s a instrument, right? Maybe you should do something... musical?”

“That doesn’t seem very magicky,” I said skeptically.

She shrugged. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” A smirk appeared on her face.

Music. Right. Well, I would need to start with a song.

It only took a moment of reflection before a melody started flowing through my head. I smiled and closed my eyes. It was... actually, it was pretty catchy. A strong flow that accentuated a lively beat.

I should write this down, it’d be a shame to waste it on some silly experiment with—

Brooke tapped me on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see the lyre floating in front of me, wrapped in a glow of aquamarine. At that sight, the song slipped right out of my head in surprise, and the lyre dropped back to the floor.

“Oh, you were doing so well!” she said, a little disappointed.

I carefully extended one hoof to prod at the unmoving lyre. It was back to being completely mundane. So, that really did come from me? No way! A grin started to form.

I closed my eyes again, and the melody returned, surging forward in a faster tempo due to my excitement. This time when I opened my eyes I made sure to keep the music flowing in my head.

I was definitely holding the lyre up. I could sort of feel it in the air, though not like I was touching it with hands. Or even hooves. It was as if I was aware of every part of it at once. As if it was some sort of extension of myself, and I could feel it like I did an ear or a leg.

A moment of experimentation showed that I could move it, too. I spun it gently in the air, then caused it to swoop around me in a low arc. Brooke stamped her hooves against the floor in appreciative applause.

Returning it to float up close and in near view, I paused for a moment to reflect on how to actually go about playing it. I still couldn’t effectively pluck strings with my hooves, even if I could hold the instrument still with magic. Which meant I’d need to use a little more finesse, and a little more magic.

I could feel the strings, just as much as the instrument as a whole. I concentrated and reached out towards the rightmost string. The melody still ran through my head, and I let it loop through a phrase a moment or two, getting used to the pattern.

Then, right on a downbeat, I did it. Somehow. I reached out to hit the string just right, and a clear note rang out.

I bounced up and down, thrilled at my success.

It wasn’t difficult from that point to play a note from each of the seven strings. They were surprisingly well in tune, making up a perfect scale. Hexatonic, my old music knowledge chipped in – since it began and ended on the same note, only separated by an octave. I couldn’t quite recall what the scale was, specifically. It sounded a bit otherworldly, but given that the instrument was floating in a magic aura, my perceptions might have been colored. I would just have to feel out the sounds and see what I could work with.

Playing a few more notes at random to get an idea of the tones, I moved into something more musical in nature, shifting between them in an easy rhythm. Yes! It sounded more or less like a song, albeit a simple one, and I grinned at the happiness this brought Brooke. But it still was nowhere close to the melody I had running through my head. I would need more than seven notes on even beats.

Maybe, though... I was used to a guitar, with the flexibility of my fingers on frets to manipulate the sounds to my liking. I may not have had fingers anymore, but this magic stuff was even easier to deal with. If I had the sensation and control to pluck each string, holding them in place shouldn't be any more difficult... right?

I concentrated on a single string, trying to hold it completely still. My success at that task was momentarily inspiring, until I realized it would be doing that without any of my help. Time to put it to the test, then – relaxing my mind I let go, before plucking as I had before. A sharp note rung out, my signal to tense the string again, and...

Yes! The reverberation ceased, its source stopped by my mental grasp. For my next trick, I tried to divide my attention. I concentrated on the strings, focused on holding half of the lowest steady, while simultaneously plucking at the other strings. It was easier to multitask than expected, and I slowly worked my way down from the higher notes until I reached the string I'd been holding. Pausing for only a moment, I struck it, making certain to keep the upper half controlled and unmoving.

The note that sung out was distinctly higher in pitch than before! Distracted by my accomplishment, some of my stillness slipped away, and the tone still ringing in the air lowered. Testing, I tightened my grip once again, and pitch scaled back up. A little more experimentation and I could properly bring it into the exact note I wanted.

A grin broke out across my face.

I could do anything!

Of course, playing a complicated tune would require a lot of precision and practice. But the capability was there, I just needed to try. Closing my eyes, I focused purely on the feeling of the lyre and its strings. A deep breath helped calm me down, slowing the pace of the imagined music passing through my head. A further attempt to focus on the basics of the melody caused the flourishes and complexities to fall away, leaving a simple, heartfelt tune.

Then I started playing. At first I didn’t even realize that the lyre was producing sounds. Its music perfectly matched the vibrant song in my mind – at least, up until a moment of uncertainty caused me to fumble slightly, resulting in a wavering note going off key. But even that was only a temporary setback. I pressed on, gaining confidence and increasing the tempo as I went. It wasn’t perfect, and I regularly faltered, hitting the verge of losing the song before managing to reel it back in. But it was oddly familiar.

I don’t even know how long I played for. The melody seemed to constantly shift, showing me some new facet that I felt a need to open and explore. Finally, it drew to a close, the sounds whispering away into silence.

I was exhausted. Using my magic for that long had been surprisingly intensive, even if I didn’t realize how much it drained me until I was done. My coat was slick with sweat, and my head felt fuzzy, like it had been stuffed full of wool. My legs wobbled slightly – I could easily have been mistaken for having spent an hour running instead of standing still.

Noticing that, Brooke walked next to me, pressing against my side so that I could lean against her. She craned her head around to look at me, expectantly. “See? That was amazing!”

“I can’t believe it,” I said. “I-I can do magic! And... and I can actually still play my music.” The relief and happiness such a thought brought made me want to hop up and down again, but my body thought better of more exertion. I settled for a broad smile.

Brooke pouted. “You should play some more,” she said insistently.

“That took a lot out of me,” I said. “M–maybe I should just sit down for a bit.” Those blankets looked awfully comfortable and inviting suddenly.

“I... I’ll sing with you if you play some more,” Brooke said. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and a blush spread across her cheeks. Actually, that was very tempting. It wasn’t very often that—

I was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, followed by footsteps and rustling of paper bags. Brooke narrowed her eyes, glaring in the direction of the noise, but she trotted off without a word. I followed, beaming at the news I had to share.

“Daisy! I can do magic!”

Daisy carried in a few bags piled high with groceries, but upon dropping them off in the kitchen she and I were quickly ordered out back into the living room. Brooke had a devious gleam in her eye. She was up to something or another, but I was content to leave her alone. Getting some rest now wouldn’t hurt, not at all.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t fish for information. As I trotted back into the living room and took a seat on the floor, I looked up at Daisy with an eyebrow raised. “So what’s with all the secrecy?”

Daisy looked back towards the kitchen and shrugged. She took a seat next to me, cross-legged. “She just wanted me to pick up some ingredients. I think... well, baking is her thing, right? Hopefully it’ll make her feel a little better. She’s been sort of standoffish around me recently.”

I tapped my hoof against my chin. “Really? I feel like we’ve been getting along better than ever.”

“Anyways,” Daisy said, “What’s this about magic? You telling me that horn’s not just for show?” She reached over and prodded at it, causing me to wince. It was a little sore from the previous exertion and the poke, as gentle as it was, caused my vision to momentarily swirl. Seeing my reaction, she pulled back. “Sorry!”

“S’okay,” I replied, shaking my head a little as I got my bearings again. “Yeah. But I just got done playing my lyre for a while, and I’m feeling a little wrung-out still. Turns out a little bit of magic takes a lot out of you.”

“Well, you’re learning all this for the first time,” Daisy said. “You’ll probably get the hang of it before too long.” She frowned, apparently still feeling a little guilty about poking me. “Um, anything I can do to help?”

I grinned. An idea came, a particularly silly one. I rolled over onto my back, my legs sticking out above me. “Scratchies?” I said, hope rising in my voice.

Daisy shook her head ruefully, but I felt her hands move to begin rubbing my belly. “I thought you were supposed to be a pony, not a dog.”

Her hands felt heavenly. Somehow I had stumbled upon the very best idea. “Mmmmm, I think I could deal with dog.” The gentle scratching on my chest made me feel drowsy, my tense muscles starting to relax.

“I got the rent paid. But as of now you have thirty-two dollars and eighteen cents left to your name,” Daisy said wryly.

Ouch. “That bad, huh?” At least it was hard to feel too badly about it when physically I was feeling so very good. One of my legs twitched slightly, and I let out a contented sigh, my eyes closing.

Daisy kept scratching, silent for a moment. “You sure are soft,” she said quietly.

“One of the many benefits of life as a pony,” I said sleepily. “You should try it sometime.”

I suddenly noticed that her hands had stopped. I opened one eye, slightly disappointed at the interruption of service, only to see Daisy’s mouth set in a serious line as she stared at me. “Are– Are you really okay like this?” Her voice was hesitant, missing her usual confidence.

I rolled back onto my side, taking more of a seated posture as I looked up to her. “I...” I stopped, taking a long moment to think about the question. I could tell she was bothered, and she deserved a genuine answer in return, not a joke. “I think I’m starting to be.”

She swallowed and looked away from me. “Oh,” she said flatly.

I reached out a hoof tentatively and touched her hand. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull back. “A whole lot has happened recently. Yesterday, I felt like I almost lost myself, my whole self, permanently. That sort of helped me put things in perspective.”

I paused for a moment, collecting my thoughts, and continued. “This change is really really weird, but... it’s not all bad either. There’s the magic and... well, it sort of feels right. Or, if not right, just unchangeable. Like this is just how things are supposed to be, and that I have to accept that, not fight it. Not that I’m forgetting what it was like to have hands, or walk on two legs, but it just seems less important.” I paused. “I think... I think I’m happy now.”

Looking up at Daisy, her face was pale, and she still refused to meet my eyes. “Are you okay with this?” I asked, gently.

She turned back towards me, surprised at the question. “You’re the one who should be—” She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “No. No, I’m not.”

I stayed silent, content to let her speak.

“It’s just... Don’t you hear what you’re saying? At first, it was just ‘yay ponies!’, and I can’t say that it wasn’t sort of exciting and magical. But now it just feels like there’s something out there twisting you, turning you into a horse and then making you like it.”

She grimaced and rubbed fiercely at her eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was frustrated or if she had actually started to tear up, but either way, her voice sounded choked. “I thought I had lost you, Tyler. For good. And then you came back, and I couldn’t have been any happier, but it feels like you’re just going to leave again. I feel like... like I’m losing my best friend.”

I rose to my feet and wrapped both forelegs around her in a hug. After a moment of stillness, I felt her arms close around me in return. We were both shaking slightly.

“Daisy,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.” My grip on her tightened. “You know, in all the mess of the past few days, all my mental breakdowns and issues and everything. You were always there, always at my side, and I think that’s how I got through it.” The words came out slowly, but I meant each and every one, and I needed to make sure she understood. “Daisy, even in the very worst of it, when I didn’t know who I was, I still knew one thing. That you were my friend.”

We held each other for a while. We didn’t need any more words than that. I couldn’t tell if she cried or not. I did, more than a little. But it wasn’t sadness or despair, because I wasn’t alone. I think in retrospect that the only way I was able look at the changes and accept them was because I knew that she would be there for me, no matter what else would happen.

Finally, we separated from the hug, still sitting close to one another. I wiped at my face with one foreleg. I probably looked like a total mess. Daisy didn’t look much better, from her puffy red eyes. But she had a smile on her face again.

“What did I ever do to get a friend like you?” she asked.

“I feel like I should be asking that question,” I said. “Though, having a talking unicorn as a friend is pretty awesome, it’s true.” I smiled slightly.

“Must be that wish I made on my sixth birthday,” she said, giggling. “Though green is such a tacky color.”

“Why I never!” I said, in mock outrage. “It’s mint green, you barbarian!” I flicked my tail, catching her in the face with her mouth slightly open.

“Pffah!” she said, sticking her tongue out. “You certainly don’t taste like mint. Just horsebutt.”

“Oh, and are you well-acquainted with the taste of horsebutt?” I fired back mockingly.

She opened her mouth for a snappy comeback, but was interrupted by the sound of somepony clearing her throat. We looked up to see Brooke standing in the doorway from the kitchen, eyeing us suspiciously. “I think I’m about done,” she said. “Though I could use some help cleaning up.” She trotted back into the kitchen, and Daisy and I rose to follow.

The kitchen was a mess, but a controlled one. By the time we arrived, Brooke was already back to standing with her hind legs on a stepstool, hooves balanced on the kitchen counter as she stacked a set of dirty bowls in the sink. Her cream-colored coat was covered with tiny flecks of brown, with one particularly large smudge on her nose. Given that she presumably had to be using her mouth to pick up and move most of her cooking stuff, it wasn’t too surprising that she’d be a little messy. But all in all, it was close to the state of any kitchen after some serious baking.

I paused for a moment, impressed. At the moment, I don’t think I could so much as pour cereal without ending up with more on the ground than in the bowl. Cracking eggs and mixing things? Well, clearly her special talent was no joke.

She hopped down from the stepstool and waved for me to take her place. “Be a dear and wash up? It should only take a bit longer for the chocolate to set.”

Chocolate? This was sounding better and better. “Did you save me the spoon to lick?” I joked as I hopped up onto the stool. I heard Brooke giggle to herself and looked down to see... she actually had! The top bowl in the sink had traces of chocolate left in it, as well as a wooden spoon with a good amount of leftovers. I clumsily caught the handle between my two front hooves and directed it towards my face.

“Are horses supposed to eat chocolate?” Daisy asked, more teasingly than serious.

My mouth was already full of delicious chocolatey goodness, so I shrugged. “Mph mrph mph...” I extracted the now mostly-clean spoon and tried again. “If I die, it will totally have been worth it.”

Daisy laughed as she picking up a few leftover utensils and put them in the sink for me. “Want me to handle this? I’m not sure how exactly you plan to wash dishes with hooves.”

I looked down at my lack of hands. I kept forgetting how hard it was to do otherwise basic things now. “Oh. Yeah, that might be—”

“No,” Brooke said firmly. “You can just use your magic.”

My brow furrowed. Well, I was already feeling a lot less tired – it seemed that magically induced fatigue tended to fade away faster than physical exhaustion. But... “Washing dishes doesn’t really have much to do with music,” I said.

Brooke shook her head disapprovingly. “It could. Anything can be musical, right? You just need to find the right music.”

I frowned. That’s all well and good to say, but I was the one with the horn having to do all this magic business. But from Daisy’s wide eyes and expectant smile, she was also looking forward to a show. I couldn’t say no without at least giving it a try.

So, first, I would need to focus on a song. A washing dishes song. Something spritely and up-tempo, maybe a little jazzy? A tune started flowing, surprising me with how quickly it came to mind. Not too fast though, I didn’t want it to get out of control. Simpler, too, cutting back the flourishes. All I needed was a little rubbity scrubbity melody.

That was it, perfect. I hardly noticed as I started humming the ditty to myself. I pushed with one hoof to turn on the water. Here was the real test. I just needed to reach out and...

The bottle of dishsoap popped up, surrounded by that familiar aquamarine haze. It bounced in the air, right to the beat I was keeping. Add a little squirt and the bubbles come up! A sponge floated to swing under the stream of water, then a plastic measuring cup. I heard Daisy gasp in delight behind me.

My hooves tapped on the counter to keep time, as things kept spinning. A bowl bobbed up and down as it got scrubbed and rinsed, a spoon following quickly behind. This felt different than playing my lyre – less natural, and with less of a sense of feeling connected to the objects I was levitating. And it used a lot more of my concentration, as all the floating objects felt under control, but barely. I had to constantly focus on the melody or risk losing my hold on everything at once. More than once I feared it would all collapse like a house of cards under a stiff breeze.

But the result was wonderful. Seeing the dishes dance in the air as I cleaned them was art in its own way, and I couldn’t help but grin madly as I worked. It was actually a disappointment to find myself suddenly out of things to wash, all the utensils, cups, and bowls neatly stacked in the other side of the sink.

Having finished, the tune faded away as quickly as it had come. The exertion had started to catch up to me again. Feeling a little woozy, I hastily stepped down, coming face to face with a triumphant-looking Brooke. “See?” she said. “No problem! And I have a reward for you, wait right here!” She trotted off to the refrigerator.

I looked up to see Daisy thoroughly impressed. Her mouth hung open, but she was silent, unable to think of the right thing to say.

“Pretty cool, huh?” I said, smugly. Sure, ten minutes ago I didn’t think I could do that myself, but it wasn’t going to stop me from being proud about it.

I was right about to brag a little more when I saw Brooke cantering back, a pan held in her mouth. On that pan were chocolates. Rows and rows of perfectly formed individual chocolate truffles, dark in coloration with swirls of white serving as decoration. They could have been the centerpiece of a particularly ritzy Valentine’s Day assortment – I had no idea how she had managed to make them so uniformly delectable-looking. Just the sight alone had my mouth watering.

Brooke’s paused for a moment, thinking of how best to serve her treats. Out of a lack of any better option, she settled on carefully setting the pan on the floor. As she raised her head, a shy smile crossed her face. “Try one,” she said, softly.

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I reached down to pick one up in my mouth, rolling it around on my tongue. The chocolate was excellent. Totally better in its finished form than licking the spoon had been. I savored the taste before biting down gently. At which point a new flavor butted in. It was the slightest bit sweet, but distinctly tart. They had fruit in them – cherries! The tartness was unexpected, and served as an odd contrast to the smooth chocolate, but it was nonetheless delicious.

Before I had realized it, the treat was entirely gone, with only a hint of the flavor remaining in my mouth. I smiled at Brooke, who was staring intently at me, face awash with expectation. “Wow!” I exclaimed. She grinned happily. “You’re... you’re really good at this, you know? I can’t believe you never sold these at the Café.”

Her eyes widened, and her head darted down as she bit into one of the chocolate-covered cherries on her own. Her mouth moved as she carefully tasted it, before hardening into a deep frown. “No!” she said. “This isn’t right. You wouldn’t...” Her eyes burned with anger as she glared at me. “They’re not supposed to taste like that. Usually I have more time to let the centers convert to sugar, and these are the wrong type of cherries, I knew it, but she got the wrong kinds and I had to make do but it didn’t work, it didn’t work at all and... and...” Brooke stared at Daisy with a dark look before turning to dash out of the room.

I stood for a moment, speechless. Daisy had a worried frown as she gazed in the direction that Brooke had run. I could tell that she was considering following her, to try and talk. “No,” I said. “Just let her be for now.” I knew all too well that with all this stuff going on, there were times that you needed to be alone to work things out. I sighed deeply and lowered my head.

Which brought me face to face with the chocolates again. I guess every cloud had a chocolate lining. I couldn’t help but smile slightly at that fact.

Daisy noticed where my attention had drifted. “Well. In that case...” Her voice brightened as she carefully phrased a hopeful request. “Are you going to eat all those?”

Brooke avoided both me and Daisy for the rest of the evening. I attempted a few times to talk to her, but she pointedly ignored me, at one point clamping her hooves over her ears in a clear indication that she didn’t want to hear anything I had to say.

It was discouraging, to say the least. I didn’t have the heart to play my lyre, so Daisy and I ended up just sitting around watching TV. I perked up when the news came on, expecting some sort of big story: Odd happenings! People turning into horses! Cats and dogs living together! Mass hysteria!

But no. No indication at all that abnormal things were happening. As far as I knew, me and Brooke were the only ones in this condition, though I still harbored the hope that there were others, if only to feel less alone. After all, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to expect other new ponies to try and hide, and it had only been a few days now. I would just have to keep my ears forward.

Eventually it grew late, and my yawns became increasingly more frequent. I insisted that Daisy take my bed. It wasn’t really made for ponies, and the nest of blankets in the other bedroom was perfectly comfortable itself. I just wasn’t sure if Brooke would be willing to join me like last night.

Confirming my suspicion, as soon as I walked into the bedroom, she trotted out, brushing past me without a word. I sighed and laid down in the blankets. She would come around sooner or later. I just needed to give her some space. That’s what I kept telling myself, hoping sooner or later I’d start to believe it.

It weighed on my mind, but before long I was warm and drowsy, and my eyes slowly drooped closed. I drifted off into slumber.

I dreamed of ponies.

Of standing in a crowd while a musical number swept over us, all singing and dancing together. I wasn’t the focus but just being there, being part of the group was an unforgettable experience. And I had Bon-Bon at my side, one of those rare occasions where she was willing to be open and honest about being happy.

But though there was music, the words weren’t clear. They sounded like the voices were coming from further and further away, devolving into unsettling murmurs, rumbling in my ears. I blinked. This was wrong, somehow? This wasn’t real. This was...

I found myself nudged awake, a mumbling voice still present. I opened my eyes ever so slightly to see the room cloaked in darkness. It was hard to tell what time of night it was, but I had definitely slept for a while. A dark silhouette was standing over me, murmuring words in such a low tone that I couldn’t make out the meaning.

It was pony-shaped. Which narrowed down the culprit significantly. “Brooke?” I said, my voice groggy.

She jerked upwards in shock before quickly turning and trotting a few paces away. She stood there, refusing to face me.

I shook off my tiredness and stood. I didn’t know what was going on, but this was getting weird. I would have to say something, even if I didn’t know what. “Hey, I know this is hard but...” I trailed off as I slowly approached her, reaching out with one hoof to touch her side.

She whirled around at the contact, knocking my hoof away. “You!” she said, voice hard with anger. She jabbed me in the chest with one hoof, hard. “Why did it have to be you? Why did you have to come back?”

“W-what?” I said, feeling tears reflexively well up in my eyes at the unexpected accusation. I swallowed, forcing myself to be strong. I had to stop bursting into tears at the slightest provocation.

Brooke looked down, her eyes dull and empty in the darkness. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” she said, hollowly.

“I know, Brooke,” I said. She flinched at the sound of her name. “We can still do this, we can get things back to normal.”

She looked up at me, her face grim. “Normal for who?”

It finally caught up to me. All the signs that had been there the whole day. Why she was avoiding Daisy. How she knew about my magic and how it worked, when I had no idea. Why she wanted me to play my lyre in the first place. Why she insisted on baking and turned out to be so disappointed with the results. Were chocolate-covered cherries Lyra’s favorite? It wouldn’t surprise me.

“You’re not Brooke,” I said.

Bon-Bon didn’t answer.

“What... what did you do with her?” My legs shook. I think I finally understood what Brooke and Daisy had to be feeling only a couple of nights ago.

Bon-Bon stared down at the floor. “She’s gone,” she said.

My breath caught in my throat. “W-what?”

“She’s gone. Just like you did to Lyra.” Bon-Bon’s voice was completely emotionless.

“I never— Lyra went away on her own! I was the one who had to find her again. I am trying to come to terms with this, for both of our sakes!”

“No you aren’t,” she said. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and even in the dark I could see the hatred burning in them. “You don’t care about anyone other than yourself.”

“And you do?” I said. I pushed her roughly with one hoof, causing her to stumble back a step. “You— You— You bring her back, right now!”

“Or what?” she said, bitterly.

I didn’t have a response. My mouth opened and closed, my train of thought skidding to a halt.

“You’re the one in the wrong place. You’re the ones in our bodies. Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Bon-Bon leaned forward, her face inches from mine.

I met her glare with one of my own. Everything was wrong. I was furious, my emotions raging. How could she have done this? And not by accident, she had deliberately taken over, forced Brooke out. She was— She was—

And then, suddenly, it fell away. All I felt was deep sadness. I saw movement as she pullled back slightly, surprised at my change of expression.

“You... aren’t the Bon-Bon I know,” I said quietly, keeping my eyes locked onto hers.

She blinked. “Y-you don’t know me at all!” Her tone was cold, but quivered slightly, betraying a sudden uncertainty.

“My Bon-Bon isn’t selfish,” I said, voice low but full of certainty. “She grumbles. She may seem rude or impatient. But she always goes out of her way to help, whether it’s for her closest friend or a penniless mare living off the streets.”

Bon-Bon started backing away from me, the anger in her eyes replaced by a deep pain. “N-no, I...”

“What you did... What you are doing, it’s wrong. My Bonnie would never hurt someone like that.” I took a single step forward.

She sped up, scrambling back until she bumped into the wall. With nowhere else to go, she froze. “I didn’t—”

I took another step forward. “I don’t know who you are. And I don’t think I want to know a pony like you.”

“Stop it!” she said, shaking.

“How much of yourself did you throw away to make her go? Your compassion? Your kindness? Your heart?”

“This is what I wanted, Tyler!” As soon as the exclamation burst out of her mouth, Bon-Bon slammed both hooves over her muzzle, eyes wide with shock.

“That— That was Brooke?” I said, my calm certainty vanishing. Bon-Bon didn’t answer, but I could see the truth from her frightened eyes.

She was still there. But... I didn’t understand. My body felt like a puppet that had its strings cut, immobile and lifeless. “Why?” I asked, the question ringing in my head.

Bon-Bon – no, Brooke – tremblingly lowered her hooves. Her voice was almost inaudible, lifeless and broken as it spilled out. “There’s nothing we can do to change this. And then you left me too. There’s no place for me anymore. I can’t... I just... I just want it to stop. If I fade away, it’ll be over. That’s enough of a reason. This world no longer needs me.”

“Brooke...” I said. “That’s not...”

I took a deep breath.

“I need you,” I said, simply. It wasn’t an empty platitude, but it sounded all too much like one.

We stood there in silence, staring at one another through the dark. Neither of us knew what to say. There were no words to solve to the problems we had.

What was I doing? Was I doing this for Brooke? Just for myself? What did I even want, and was it my place to get in the way of Lyra and Bon-Bon? All I had were questions, with not a single satisfactory answer. I had thought I had come to terms with who I was, but it wasn’t just all about Tyler, was it?

I didn’t have any idea what to do.

I had just been thinking on my hooves, taking each day one step at a time, not realizing that I was getting more and more lost along the way. I kept expecting to be able to fix things, or at least learn to accept them.

Was there even a way to make this right?

I stepped forward, Brooke’s eyes wide as she watched my every movement. I didn’t know what I should do, but I knew what I was going to do. Damn the consequences.

I stopped, inches away from the pony in front of me. I looked deep into her eyes, my heart pounding. And then I closed my eyes, leaning forward until our lips met.

I refused to open my eyes, refused to see the expression on her face. She didn’t move, not even the tiniest amount, but her lips were so warm. The only sound in the dark room seemed to be my racing heartbeat. I kept waiting for some sort of response, her returning the feeling, but nothing came.

After a long moment I pulled back, feeling my face hot with embarrassment and my stomach twisted in knots. I couldn’t open my eyes and face her. I took one shuddering breath, then another.

And then I felt that warmth on my lips again as she leaned into me in another kiss. I opened my eyes to see hers in front of me. She looked so... so sad. I raised a hoof to gently stroke her neck as I returned the kiss. She shivered at the touch.

I wasn’t sure how to make those eyes sparkle with joy once again, but it was okay. We had all night to work it out.