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The Price of a Dream · FiM Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
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Held Together By Misery
No time to think, no time to rest. Orders to fill, customers to satisfy, and high-class ponies to impress.

Still, this had been what her dream was. Right? Being the best of the best, the most renowned and known seamstress in all of Equestria. Right? Not being able to step outside her house without being bombarded by adoring fans, new orders, interviews, talk show requests, ball invitations, tea time gatherings and even the odd wine tasting ceremony. Yes, these were all the things famous ponies did and other ponies dreamed of. And now, it was all hers. Everything was.

Ouch!

She glanced down to see she had sewn the edge of her leg accidently to the fabric she was working on. Darn, too many distractions, too much thinking, all these thoughts were just messing with the focus she needed to keep her head in the game.

No more thinking, she decided, giving her head a shake to get the thoughts out as she tackled the dress again.

She couldn’t lose focus, after all, there were too many competitors out to one up her. To step into the next threshold of fashion before her.

She wouldn’t let that happen.

Yes, being famous did come with its disadvantages. There were no shortage of ponies looking to ruin her for a simple sum of bits, no lack of the scheming business colts who would destroy her own image. Half of fashion was being fabulous yourself because no one wants to buy clothes from a peasant. If she lost her image, her persona, she might as well close up shop now.

She had her friends, of course. No, not the ones from Ponyville. She’d left them so many years ago when this opportunity had arisen. No turning back, they had told her, and she hadn’t. All her fame had been because of her friends.

And for the life of her, she couldn’t remember a single name. The color of their coats were shrouded in the stress and work of the last ten years. The more she thought about it, the less she could recall altogether. She could faintly make out somepony helping her hunt for gems. Heh, it was funny. The more she thought about it, the less sure she became that it was a pony in the first place. In fact, she could almost remember…

OUCH!

She had stitched her hoof again, drawing blood through the skin and fur. See, thinking was dangerous and she didn’t have time to waste as it was. No more thinking! That was the final declaration! She stopped to breathe, shaking her head to get rid of the pesky thoughts once and for all. This was her life, this was what she had worked so hard to achieve, and nostalgia would not rob this from her! Sacrifices were a normal part of any mare’s life and she was no different. Popularity, fame and fortune were the staples of her existence now, and it didn’t matter if it left her empty, hollow and miserable. It didn’t matter she cried herself to sleep every night, or that she drank way too much. The pain she endured was for a greater cause. It was for fashion, and that meant she had to persevere!

Right?
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