Sonata tugs and pushes and wrings at her boot, trying to free her toes from its clutches, but to no avail. With a sigh, she lets go and leans back against the tree she is sitting under. “Aria?” she says. “Can you help? My foot is all sweaty and stuff.”

Sitting on a rock nearby, Aria rests her head in her hands. “What’s the point?”

“My toes feel gross and grimy—”

“No, idiot.” Aria shoots Sonata a glare. “What’s the point of this? Why are we sitting here?”

“We’re waiting for Adagio,” Sonata says.

“Why?”

Sonata blinks. “Because she told us to.”

“Oh,” Aria says with a too-wide smile. “That makes perfect sense!”

Sonata nods and smiles back—before a frown overtakes her lips. “Wait,” she says. “You’re being sarcastic.”

“No duh.” Aria faces forward again and crushes a bug. “We should leave. I’m going to leave.”

“Okay.”

“Seriously, what’s the point? She’s not our leader. Why does she get to boss us around like this?”

“Because she just does,” Sonata says with a shrug. “That’s how it is. She makes all the plans and stuff.”

“What plans?”

“The plans to get our bodies back.”

“Those plans failed. We didn’t get our bodies back.” Aria scoffs. “In fact, we ended up losing our magic, too. All because of Adagio’s ‘brilliant plan.’”

“You should stop being so hard on her,” Sonata says, crossing her arms. “She’s trying her best, y’know.”

“Adagio can try her best right into a shallow grave,” Aria says. “No magic, no negative energy—do you know how disgusting human food is? I had to eat a tomato yesterday. A freakin’ tomato. I nearly threw up.”

“I dunno,” Sonata murmurs. “I kinda like tomatoes. They’re squishy and great to put in tacos.”

“This is the stupidest thing in the world,” Aria groans. “I’m gonna leave. I really am. How late is she now?”

“Two hours.”

“Two hours. Two hours I could be spending on useful stuff. Like watching paint dry. Or—no. I won’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“Nothing. I’m not saying it.”

Sonata's eyes light up. “You should say it.”

Aria sneers. “I’m not gonna say it. You’ll just start whining.”

“I promise I won’t.” Sonata clasps her hands. “Please say it.”

“Or hanging myself,” Aria finishes.

Sonata’s face darkens. She looks down. “You shouldn’t have said it.”

“It's a joke.” Aria snorts. “I’d laugh at how stupid you are—if I didn’t think Adagio would have a panic attack. Can’t do anything without her ordering it, y’know.”

Silence. Aria makes circles in the dirt. Sonata studies the tree she leans against.

“So,” Sonata says, “what do we do now?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, but while you’re leaving.” Sonata gazes around the park they’re sitting in, scanning the crowds for a familiar face—maybe Adagio just got lost. But that’s when she sees a shock of rainbow-colored hair walking near. “Hey, look.”

“You idiot!” Aria hisses as Rainbow Dash notices them and stomps over, a thin yellow girl in tow. “Those guys are Rainbooms! They’ll kill us!”

“I thought you wanted to hang yourself?”

Rainbow and Fluttershy stop in front of the two. Rainbow glares down at them, while Fluttershy cowers. “What the heck are you doing here?” the athlete yells. “I thought we ran you out of town.”

“We can go where we want," Aria spits.

Fluttershy whispers into Rainbow's ear. Rainbow nods. “My friend wants to know what you’re doing here, too.”

Fluttershy flinches. “I didn’t—”

“We’re waiting for Adagio,” Sonata says. “Have you seen her?”

“Who’s Adagio?” Rainbow asks.

Sonata smiles. “She’s our friend!”

Aria scowls. “She’s a bitch.”

Rainbow leans into Aria. “Kinda like you, then?”

As Aria bristles and Rainbow giggles, Fluttershy whispers into Rainbow’s ear. Rainbow nods. “My friend says you’re a bitch, too.”

Fluttershy frowns. “I didn’t—”

“C’mon,” Rainbow says, pulling Fluttershy along. “Pinkie’s expecting us at her ‘Hooray for Oxygen’ party.” The two disappear from sight.

Muttering curses, Aria keeps digging her foot into the dirt. Sonata watches the squirrels and the birds and the spiders. Hours pass, and the sun dips low below the horizon. Quiet settles over the park as children and parents flee. Aria and Sonata stay.

Just as Aria declares for the twelfth time that she's leaving, Sonata’s phone rings.

“It’s a text from Adagio,” Sonata reads. “She says she’s not coming. But she wants us to wait tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” Aria asks.

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“We should go home,” Aria says.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Neither girl moves from their spot.