Angry hoof steps next door. The tension makes me giddy: dinner’s ready.

“Hazel, come here this instant!”

The single mum’s shout from next door penetrates the paper-thin walls of the whole building; The other inhabitant’s annoyance seeps through the walls, the ceiling, the floor: a nice appetizer. I lie on my bed, stretched out, waiting for the main dish.

“Mrs Blossom just called and told me there’re scribblings all over her wall again.”

“I didn’t do it!” A young colt’s voice, no older than thirteen.

“Don’t lie to me, Hazel. Mr Bloom saw you last Thursday and they’re the exact same… things again. I know you’re in a uhm… curious age, but this is really inappropriate.”

“Last week wasn’t me, too, mum, I swear! I’ve been out with Nuts and Dasher today, they’ll tell you it wasn’t me!”

“Oh yes, of course your little gang would cover up for you. I’ve just had it with you and your lies. N-no— “ ohh, she’s struggling. The tightness in her throat is almost too cliché. “No supper for you today.”

“Bu—”

“And you’ll go wash that wall first thing next morning. And apologize.

“B—”

“Now go to your room!”

“But mum, tomorrow’s the fun fair! “

“I don’t want to hear another word. Go!”

Slammed door. The resentment, uh delicious resentment. Anger and regret, tons and tons of regret. A sob as she picks up the trash. I get up for desert.

I open my door right before she passes, startling her and stopping her in her tracks. I look her in the eyes. In front of yellowing corridor walls and illuminated by cold fluorescent lamps, she’s the perfect idol of liveable misery.

“Oh, hey there,” I say, stretching and yawning.

“Oh, h-hi Glitter.”

“Is everything alright?” I fake another yawn. “I heard shouting.”

“Did… did we wake you?”

“Yeah, well, kinda… you know, with the night shifts and all.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry Glitter.” Isn’t she cute. “It’s… nothing, really. Hazel is being a little rebel.” A brave smile, oh so brave. “Just his age I guess.”

“Or maybe he needs a father.” Sting. Stingedy sting sting. She actually flinches. “Oh by Celestia, I’m sorry,” I say, “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“That’s okay. You’re probably right.”

“Your… I mean, Hazel’s father. Why did you say he, uhm—”

“A younger mare,” she says, eyes downcast.

“Oh well, I… I guess it can’t be helped, then.” I cast back the mane of my pony disguise, the embodiment of out-of-bed beauty. “I’m sure you’ll manage… somehow.”

The corners of her mouth twitch. “Thanks.” Pathetic creature.

“I’d so love to talk more but I’ve got to get ready and catch me some breakfast now. See you and, uhm… hang in there.”

I get back inside my apartment and listen to her hoof steps as she leaves, leaving behind the noisy silence of an inner-city apartment building.

Well fed, I sink down onto my cheap bed again. Creaky creak. My gaze wander towards the crappy television set. Watch more about ponies, their woes and wonders? Nah. I look up at the ceiling, barren tapestry but for the spider in the corner. Would the spider watch fly television? No, it just sits there. It just is.

“We’re the same, aren’t we?” I ask quietly. No answer. I let the question hang, trying to endure the silence. I don’t remember how often I’ve competed with the spider like this, but today is no other than every day: I lose. Another rerun of The Rash Prince of Belle-Mare on Channel 5. Why not.

---

Working at a fun fare: My former hive would laugh their heads off. It would be a feast for any regular changeling… but for a freak like me? Tricky. Shouldering my way through excited foals and happy ponies is disgusting; the torrent of emotions feels too much like what they tried to force-feed me back then, before they exiled me. Love never fed me.

There’s one thing though that makes it worthwhile: the Haunted House. It’s funny, really; Ponies come in here knowing it’s all a hoax. Still, some are scared to begin with. Some try to play it cool, pointing out bad effects and laughing. The louder they laugh, the louder they scream once you turn it a bit too real for their tastes; that’s where the fun begins.

I’m lurking in my usual dark spot with a perfect view of the path through the house. The dusty smell of fake fog and almost-stench of cheap latex fills the air. Rattling of chains and the occasional distant screaming come from a cheap set of speakers; it’s so gratingly cheesy that I can’t suppress a frown. Then again, the cheesiness is exactly what makes ponies drop their guard.

I see a white unicorn foal approach. It looks around, distressed and on the verge of tears already.

“D-daddy?”

It’s genuinely scared. Jackpot! I go up to it in my usual pony disguise, pulling the helpful mare like so many times before.

“Hey there, little one.”

It looks up at me out of red eyes. An albino, of all things. “M-mommy?”

Whaaa…? Heck, I’ll just roll with it. “Yes, darling.”

She leaps at me and hugs me around the legs. “Mommy!”

“Yes, darling,” I repeat. “Don’t worry, we don’t need daddy. I’ll take good care of you from now on.”

The foal looks up again at my fake, warm smile.

“Yes, I’ll take good care of you.” I start to smile wider, baring my teeth. I’m starting to turn them pointier and larger, the smile turning into a grimace.

The foal takes three steps backward, I one forward.

“What’s the matter, darling? Don’t you love me?”

“Y-your’re n-not mommy.” Its voice is shaking.

“Aw, don’t say that, you’re hurting my feelings. And if you hurt my feelings, I’ll have to hurt YOU!”

I leap towards the foal as my head explodes and all goes dark.

---

Shouting. Hoof steps. I turn back into my pony camouflage just before the lights are turned on. I’m on the dirty floor of the Haunted House. Gosh, it is dirty. The dust and cobwebs and all the other things you never saw unless your snout was pushed right into them. But why am I on the floor.

I try to sit up, but my head spins and I lie back down. A strange, white face appears before me… with red eyes.

I groan and turn to the other side. In the back of the room, I hear snippets of another conversation. Something about “right in the head”, “threatened” and “sorry.”

Another face appears before me: the manager’s.

“Man, she doesn’t look good. And she’s usually such a looker” He chuckles. “Glitter, can you hear me?”

“Uh,” I groan in affirmation.

“You okay?”

“Nu-uh.”

“Aw, she’ll be alright,” he says, standing up and addressing the other voice. “Can you take her off my hooves? Do see a paramedic, though, they’re supposed to stroll around the compound somewhere.”

The manager disappears, and another face comes into view: Brown, square jawed, and worried.

“Can you walk?”

I try to get up again, but nearly fall over to the other side. The stranger grabs me and almost lifts me off the floor. I half stumble, half get dragged out of the Haunted House. He sets me down on the short stairs outside, then takes a closer look at my head.

“Ivy, stay right here with the young mare, I’ll be right back.”

Off he goes. The white foal—Ivy, apparently—sits in front of me, just staring at me with those red eyes. I wonder why she called me ‘Mummy’. I try not to stare back, but our eyes keep meeting.

The brown stallion returns with a medic pony. After a check-up that involved blinding me with a flash light, the medic presses an ice pack to my head and concludes: “Think she’ll be alright, but keep an eye on her in case she develops symptoms of a concussion. Dizziness, nausea, sickness. Stuff like that. In that case you should get her to a hospital.”

“Alright, thanks doc,” the stallion says. The doc gets swallowed by the crowd an instant later, leaving me with that brown oaf and his foal.

“So… did you kick me in the head or something?” I ask.

“Uhm… yeah. I’m real sorry.” Genuine regret, me likey. I stare silent daggers at him. “I uh… we. We lost each other, Ivy ‘n me.” He points at the foal. I keep staring. “When I found her, it looked as though you threatened her and I… panicked. Sorry.”

I sigh, bemoaning the inconvenience of this situation as well as the pounding in my head. Accidentally, I lock eyes with the foal again. I look back at Brown: “Okay, so I forgive you and everything. Now go,” I say. hoping he’ll get that foal out of my sight.

“No can do, Miss. The doc said I should keep an eye on you, so that’s what I’ll do.” His bright blue eyes pierce mine.

“I said go!”

Stern look. No reaction. Impatiently, I try to shoo him away by waving a hoof and hissing, dropping the ice pack I’d been holding to my temple. Before I can do anything about it, he bows down and picks it up for me: Stubborn goody two shoes. The worst kind. He holds it up to me and I rip it out of his hooves, press it to my temple and turn my head away. Maybe he leaves if I just ignore him.

“You’re Glitter, right? I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Autumn Rain, but just call me Autumn.” Nah, I’ll stick with Brown. “And this is Ivory, my daughter.” I cast a quick sideways glance; the thing is still staring at me.

A few seconds of silence pass. Then, he says: “What about some ice cream, huh?”

“Yay!” The foal’s demeanour changes instantly.

“How about you get us some, Ivy? The usual for me and, uh… what about strawberry for our new friend?”

“I don’t like sweets,” I hiss.

“Oh, is that so.” He’s amused. Why the heck is he amused? “Well then, get her my usual, too,” he says and passes the foal some bits. Grinning from ear to ear, she disappears in the crowd.

Another few seconds of silence.

“Ignoring me, huh?” You sure don’t learn quick, Brown. “That’s alright, although this would be more fun if you wouldn’t, you know.”

The foal bursts out of the crowd again, distressed. She looks up at her father. “Daddy, there’s a line and all the other foals, they’re… they’re…” She’s about to cry. How sweet.

“They’re calling you names again?” Brown asks calmly.

The foal nods and starts sobbing. Pep speech incoming.

“Remember what I told you about that?”

The foal is barely comprehensible between hiccups. “W-what they th-think of m-me doesn’t matter. O-only what I think of m-me.”

He nods. “That’s r—”

“But it’s hard!” The foal almost screams and starts all out sobbing again. Brown hugs her and holds her tight, and I soak up all the misery that’s pouring out.

“Then think of me,” he says. The foal looks up, puzzled. “When everyone makes fun of you and nopony accepts you the way you are, think of me. I love you, just the way you are. Just the way you decide to be. I always will. Okay?”

My coat stands on end. Ponies like that actually exist, huh?

“O… okay.” The foal wipes her tears before deciding to push her face into Brown’s chest once more. She turns and dashes off towards the ice cream stand again.

“Father of the year award, right there.” I say, grinning.

He turns to me and smiles. “Thank you.”

A wave of nausea comes and goes. Stupid idiot doesn’t know what sarcasm is.

“Do you have foals?” he asks.

“What, me?” I bark a laugh. “I can’t.” Why? Why did I say that? A simple ‘no’ would’ve been enough!

“Oh… I’m sorry,” he says, as though there was any chance that anything he said could hurt me.

“I’m not.”

Awkward silence. Then, the foal returns with the ice cream. I’ve been confronted with ice cream before, only this time, it’s black. The puzzlement must be written across my disguise’s face; Brown laughs.

“Go ahead and try it. It’s not sweet. Promise.”

I have a taste. “What’s this?” It’s the best pony food I’ve ever eaten.

“Liquorice ice cream. You like it?” he asks, grinning foolishly, chomping down on his own cone.

“It’s… tolerable.”

“Daddy, can we go to the petting zoo now?” The foal’s already gobbled down her ice.

Brown looks at his daughter, then takes a long look at me.

I raise an eyebrow. “Go, I’ll mana—”

“Can’t be helped,” he says and stuffs his ice cone in his mouth. He takes two steps towards me, gets under my side, and lifts me up on his back like it’s nothing. I can’t help smearing some of my ice into his mane.

“Wha, that’s… wh-what are you… I’m making a mess!”

He swallows his ice cone whole. “Go make a mess, then,” he says. The foal laughs.

He sets out with me on his back, apparently unfazed by the additional weight. “Off to more tolerable things!”

---

The petting zoo is a pen full of dogs, sheep, rabbits and other fluffy, good-natured animals. Foals laughing, giggling, having so much fun. I feel like ending myself. The albino foal runs ahead and delves right in.

I slump off Brown’s back just outside the entrance and sit down on the lawn. “From here on, without me.”

Brown stops and turns to me. “Don’t like animals, huh?”

I look inside the pen. One of the dogs stares at me, baring its teeth. Copying a pony’s appearance is easy. Copying it’s smell isn’t.

“Let’s call it mutual distrust,” I say.

Brown looks at the dog, then me again. I’m feeling sicker by the minute.

“Daddy, come on!” The annoying foal pops from the crowd, a bunny on her head. She grabs brown by the foreleg and tries to pull him into the pen. Brown’s still looking at me.

“Go on, I’ll be waiting here.”

Brown and Annoying disappear, and I get up from the ground. I’m still kinda woozy and wonky on my legs. I gotta do something about that.

I let my gaze wander across the crowd standing around the petting zoo pen. There’s a young mare smiling and looking at the animals. Can’t be older than sixteen. She’s all dressed up for the fare: glasses, braces and the self-esteem of a newborn. Jackpot.

I turn myself into a handsome colt her age and walk up to her. “Hey,” I say, putting on the warmest smile I can muster. “Don’t you want to go in and pet them?”

She looks at me, eyes wide, cheeks flushing instantly. “Well, yeah, but… don’t you think that’s a little childish?”

“Nah, absolutely not. Everypony loves animals, right? Wanna go together?”

She’s beaming. I can almost hear her little heart pounding with joy. “Y-yes!”

She takes a step forward, but I put out a hoof to hold her back. “Wait. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea after all.”

“Wha… why?”

“The animals might get scared, you know,” I say, smiling apologetically.

“What? Why would they get scared?” Her brow furrowed, her mouth slightly open.

“Because you’re so damn ugly.”

Bullseye: Her eyes go wide and her jaw drops. I imagine all the hurt pouring out from her open mouth, but that wouldn’t be enough; she’s radiating like a beacon.

“Wh… wha…” she’s dumbstruck.

“Wha? Whawha?” I imitate her.

Her eyes start to well up. “Why would you be so mean? Why even talk to me?”

“Somepony had to tell you.” I try to look comforting. “I’m not being mean, I’m being honest. With that glasses and the braces you could be the next Robo-mare without a costume.”

“Jerk!” She tries to slap me in the face. I dodge easily. She turns and runs away, but that’s okay; I’ve had my fill. Something is strange, though. I shouldn’t only feel fed: I should feel like the queen of the world. But I don’t.

I look at the place where the young mare stood. I wonder who has to give her a pep speech after what I’ve done. I wonder if she even has someone to do that. I wonder… wait, am I feeling sorry? For a pony? I slap myself in the face: snap out of it!

“Glitter? Glitter!”

I look back. Brown’s standing outside the pen, looking around frantically. I can feel his worry, his feeling of… loss? I turn my back on the scene and set out to leave.

I’ve only gotten ahead a few meters when something launches itself at my hind legs and grabs a hold of them. “Gotcha!”

I snap around and see a streak of white coat before I lose my balance and topple over onto my side.

“Oi, Glitter.”

I look up. It’s that face again: brown, handsome, and worried. Wait, handsome? Give me a break!

“Glitter, you alright? Where were you going?” he asks. The vice let’s go of my legs and the albino foal pops into view, too.

“Uhm… away?” I offer. I take a peek at myself: I’m back in the usual, female, almost-fashion-mare disguise. When did that happen. And why?

He looks almost angry. “That won’t do. I’m keeping an eye on you for your own good, you know.”

I get up from the ground and sigh loudly. “Yeah, yeah. Not that I had a chance with that little cannonball around.” I give Ivory a pat on the head. She grins up at me. Something inside me cringes.

“Sooo…” Brown says. I look at him again. His calm smile is back in place. “Where do you want to go?”

“Who, me?” I ask.

“Yeah. Your turn.”

I scratch my head. Then, I remember the fear the friends of a young colt had felt when he’d pointed at the roller coaster. I try to mimic his pose, along with the evil grin, and point: “There.”

“Glitter, your snout is bleeding.”

I touch my hoof to it, and sure enough: it’s stained red. Brown hands me a handkerchief, and I hold it to my snout.

Without forewarning, I’m lifted into the air again. “Ugh, wait! I’m fine going myself. I’m feeling much better now.”

“You sure?” Brown asks me, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Sure sure?”

“Yeah, I’m… what the hay.” I raise my voice. “Carry me, my loyal steed. To battle!” Chrysalis knows what cheesy movie I picked that up from. I rearrange myself on his back and grab a hold of his mane.

“Your wish is my command!” he replies, rears onto his hind legs, neighs... and starts walking. Not a canter, not even a trot. Walking. I nearly fall off laughing.

---

The safety mechanism locks with a loud click. Brown and I got the front seats and the ride’s about to start. He casts a worried look at me, although the bleeding only lasted a few minutes, then waves at Ivy who’s standing some way off in the crowd, watching, looking fearful.

“You sure about leaving her?” I ask.

“Oh yeah. Other than somepony else,” he says, “I can count on her not walking out on me.” He looks at me with an amused smile. “You’re crazy by the way, wanting to go on a roller coaster. ride when you can’t even walk on your own.”

“You! I could’ve… you wanted—” The cart makes a jolt as it starts moving, silencing me mid-sentence. “Oooh it’s starting.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a roller coaster. virgin.” A look of mild disbelief has crept into his smile.

“Uhm, yeah. So?”

“Oh, nothing,” he shouts above the loud clanking as the cart is pulled up a high slope, looking ahead now. “Enjoy the ride!”

I let my gaze slide from him towards the ground, and notice for the first time how far away it’s gotten. I’ve been to the roof of my apartment building. Once. And this… this is definitely higher. “Oh.”

The clanking stops as the cart suddenly tilts forward into a level position. There’s absolute silence for a moment. I look forward, but there’s nothing but air. “Oh.”

The cart tilts forward once more. “Oh by Chrysa-AAAHHH!” We plummet towards the ground, then get pressed into our seats. My mane flies everywhere. I can’t stop screaming, and I can’t tell up from down. All I see is sky, ground, sky, ground. I feel like a toy in the hands of giants.

“...Aaahh.” After far-too-long-but-not-long-enough, it stops. I can tell we’re facing upside-up again. I still can’t get my pounding heart or my breath under control, though. A hoof parts my mane that’s covering my face now, and through the gap looks a bright blue eye.

“You alright?” Brown asks.

I try to say something, but only gasp. I decide to nod instead. He laughs. The cart stops with another jolt, and we’re released from the safety mechanism. I basically fall onto the wooden planks next to the ride, my legs all shaky; Brown catches me.

“You were very brave for your first time. You only screamed, like, the whole time.”

I punch him in the chest with a hoof, then laugh. I let go off him and try to stand on my own, wobbly legs. Ivory comes running and hugs me round the foreleg.

I look straight at Brown “That. Was. Awesome!” I feel like jumping. “Let’s do it again, let’s—”

Something kicks me in the stomach with the force of a young bull; it empties itself almost instantly all over the wooden floor in front of me. I can’t breathe. Somepony shouts as my vision blurs. Then, all goes dark.

---

Something warm is resting on my belly. I jerk upright. The room is almost pitch black. Where am I?

“Oi, careful Glitter,” a calm voice says and turns on a dull bedside lamp. It’s Brown.

“Brown, what—”

“Psst,” he hushes me, then lifts Ivory off me and puts her down on another bed right next to mine. “Sorry, but she’s been very upset and now that she’s asleep, I’d rather not wake her up.”

“Hospital?” I ask.

He nods. “Hospital.”

I let myself sink down into the pillows again. What a misery.

“I carried you here.” Of course you did. “You were out for a couple of hours. It’s night time, you know. I don’t know if you remember, but you were sick and then kinda cramped up. All that happened since was quite scary to be honest.”

“Geez, did the doctors say I’m a changeling in disguise or what.” Whoops.

“Haha, no, not that kind of scary,” he says, dropping his gaze. “It’s just that this is all my fault, and to see you in such a bad shape got me really worried.” He pauses.

“Anything I should know?”

“The doctors checked you for a concussion, but didn’t find one. They don’t think it was the roller coaster., either. They said you were cramping because of something called an anaphylactic shock. They injected you with something and you relaxed in a matter of seconds.”

“So I’m back to normal now?” I ask.

“Doctors said you were allergic to something. First I thought the ice, but… they said that was highly unlikely, so they don’t know.” He nods at the table next to my bed. “They left you some of those injections if it happens again, but you should try to find out what it is they said.”

I sigh. My gaze wanders towards the sleeping foal. I can see dried tears glistening in the dim light of the bedside lamp. “What got her so upset?”

“I guess it was all just a bit too much for her. You getting sick. This hospital. Bad memories, you know.” He pauses, not meeting my eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He looks me in the eyes now. “She… well, we lost her mother in this hospital. She looked a lot like you, which doesn’t help.”

Oh, so that’s it. I knew there had to be a reason. Nopony is so nice without a reason. “Huh. I see. So you were so eager to take care of me because you couldn’t save her, and you could at least save me? I should have known.”

I pause. He stares at me, mouth slightly open. Say something you oaf! “I’m not her, you know. You don’t even know me!” You have no idea. So no idea. I could toy with you like a puppet, mess with your head so bad you’d kill yourself in a fortnight. I picture a fly sitting at the bed of a big, fat spider, and I have to suppress a laugh.

“I know you’re not her and I barely know you, but I like what I do know. I liked today...” He says. So innocent. So vulnerable.

“You’re really, really strange, you know.” I say.

“And I don’t think you’re strange at all,” he says. The gears in my head creak in dismay, trying to digest these words; they make no sense.

I take a deep breath, “Ponies around me get miserable. That’s what I do. That’s what I am.”

“I don’t think—”

“You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Try me,” he says. That look… the same look he calmed his daughter with when she had been bullied. Calm and earnest, as though there was nothing more important in the world than your worries right now. I think I hate that look.

“Get out.”

He takes a deep breath. “Alright. In case you change your mind, I left my phone number next to your meds. Give me a call. I’d really like to make this whole mess up to you. And… see you again.”

He waits for a response, but I’m done talking. I pull the sheets over my head and turn away. He picks up his daughter and leaves the room. The door shuts with a soft thud.

I try to drop off to sleep again, but my head keeps spinning. Thoughts, images, the feeling of being carried on someone’s back. The clanking of a roller coaster. going upwards. Something warm hugging me. The look of horror on a young mare’s face. I cringe. Not for the last time this night, until exhaustion finally takes its toll.

---

The next day, I’m released from the hospital with a fake smile and the information that ’my friend’ already paid the bill. Bloody white knight, that Brown. The walk to my bedsit passes with my head in the clouds, thinking about stuff. Mostly about that one smile I can’t get out of my head. Screw you, brain.

Back in my room, I toss the meds from the hospital onto the floor in front of the TV, along with the now crumpled up piece of paper that I picked up from the hospital bedside table. I fling myself on the bed and switch on the TV. I zap through the channels: there’s nothing remotely interesting on. I stop at an infomercial about frying pans because at least they’re talking fast.

“The new, revolutionizing surface coating of The Power Pan 2000…” I wonder what he’s doing right now. “Tired of endless hours of soaking and scrubbing with aggressive chemicals? The new, revolutionizing…” Is he still worrying about me? Is he thinking about me at all? “The first two hundred buyers will get this set of kitchen knives with a value of…” ‘Try me’? Really?

I start banging my head on the wall beside my bed, muttering to myself. “Shut.” Bang. “Up.” Bang. “Shut” Bang. “Up.” Bang. “Shut.” Bang. “Up.”

Bang, bang, bang. Three times. Not my head, the door this time. I switch off the TV, get up from my bed, and open up. It’s the single mum from next door… never bothered to remember her name.

“Uhm, hi. What’s up?” I ask casually.

“Hi. It’s just… uhm. I heard you banging something against my wall, and normally I wouldn’t dare disturb, but since you were shouting ‘shut up’ in between, well… I didn’t think it was, you know, that.” She grins, nervous and embarrassed.

“I was shouting?”

“Uhm… yeah.”

“Geez.” I rest my head against the door frame.

“Are you alright?”

Another pony worrying about me. Lie. Just lie. “No.” Dammit.

“Do you want to talk?” she asks.

If you knew how much I’ve hurt you and your son. If you knew. “No. I want to forget.”

“Hmm.” She smiles. I wonder why. “I’ll tell you just this one thing then, young mare. From somepony who’s made a lot of mistakes in her life: Forgetting never works. If you don’t act in time, it might haunt you for the rest of your life… whatever it is. I’ll be going then.” She turns to leave.

“Wait,” I say. “Your son wasn’t the one doing the smearing.”

She turns around, puzzlement etched on her face. “How do you know?”

Think fast, think fast. “I uh… I saw a colt that looked nearly exactly like your sun at the fun fare yesterday. I was working in the Haunted House, you know. I heard him and his friends laugh about it. I... “

With dropped jaw and wide opened eyes, the look on her face reminds me of the mare I bullied yesterday.

“I told them off. They shouldn’t be doing it again.”

“And I’ve blamed and punished him all the time. I’ll need to apologize right now.” She turns and takes a few steps towards her own door. Then, she turns around again, flies right at me, gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Perplexed, I watch her leave before my stomach lurches. I dash for my bathroom and throw up. The hospital food looks just the way it did when I ate it. I wonder why I even bothered with the pony food at all.

Feeling miserable, I return to my room with half a mind to start banging my head against something solid again. My eyes wander to the meds, and lock onto the crumpled piece of paper on the floor.

Without giving my troubled mind another chance to think, I grab and unfurl it, go to my old, second-hand phone and punch in the number.

Toot. Toooot. “Hello?” The voice vibrates through my head, deep and warm, even over the cheap speakers.

“Brown?” I ask stupidly.

“Oh, hey Glitter. How are you today?”

“So-so. Listen, I’m actually kinda busy right now but I wanted to ask if that make-up-for-it offer was still in tact.”

“Of course it is, I just said it last n—”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Uhm… how about dinner at my place? Tomorrow night 8 p.m.?”

“Sounds good. See ya.” I hang up the phone and start chewing my front hooves. I sit down on my bed. What the hay is wrong with me?

The phone rings. I jump and pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Glitter?” It’s Brown again… of course. I never use this phone.

“Yeah, what?”

“The address?” he asks, half laughing.

“Oh, right.” I resist another wave of head-bashing urge.

“Got something to write?”

I grab the piece of paper with his number, then look around my room. “There’s no pen. No matter, I’ll memorize.”

“Alright then. I live at number 9, Copper Street.”

“Number 9 Copper Street. Got it.”

“I’m really happy you called, by the way. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Yeah… me, too,” I say, pause, think about what I just said, then smash the receiver onto the phone. A chip of the cheap plastic breaks off at the force and flies to the far side of the room.

Silence spreads through my room again. My head feels a little quieter, but something strange is up with my stomach again. I fling myself on my bed and continue chewing my hooves, staring at the ceiling.

I look at the spider in the corner, sitting in her web. “Shut up,” I say. “And don’t look at me like that.”

---

The building before me is old and covered in vines, and seems to have a breath of its own on a mild summer’s evening such as this. This isn’t one of those cheap apartment buildings… probably not an apartment building at all.

I had managed to keep relatively calm throughout the day, but now? Gosh. I press the doorbell next to the nice brass name plate reading “Autumn & Ivory Rain” with a shaky hoof. Wait, nice brass plate? Give me a break.

The door opens and out flies something white, hugging me around the a foreleg. I pat Ivory on the head. “Hey there, little cannonball. You alright?”

“Yeah!” she says, then pulls me inside the house, through a corridor with parquet flooring and wood panelling and into a brightly lit dining room with a table so laden with food, it almost seems to bend.

Brown comes into the room and fits another bowl of food onto the table I-don’t-know-where. He smiles at me and the funny feeling in my belly is back.

“Dinner’s ready,” he says.

Dinner passes as quickly as it is enjoyable; among the numerous fruits and vegetables are things I’ve never seen before, things I actually like... a rare occasion with me and pony food. Ivory keeps chatting away; I thought she was a quiet foal, but in her own domicile, she’s a whole different person.

At 9 p.m., Brown announces: “Bedtime for little fillies.”

Ivory takes a breath to protest, looks at me, lets it go, and kicks her chair aside to go hug me once more. Then, she takes off, and Brown goes after her, winking at me.

I’m left alone at the table for a while, still chomping down on something called Natto, when Brown comes back. “Says she won’t go to sleep unless you give her a good-night kiss.”

“A what?!” Seriously?

“She really likes you, you know,” he says.

“I… well… but—”

“Come one, don’t be shy.” He grins.

“Shy? Me? That’s… ugh.” I sigh. Apparently, that’s consent enough for him. He grabs me around the foreleg and leads me out of the dining room.

Ivory’s room is Princess Luna themed: all in blue, with a big moon on the ceiling. The lights are dimmed to a gloomy twilight. She’s lying in a bed with star-patterned, blue sheets.

“You like Princess Luna, huh?” I ask her.

“No, Nightmare Moon!” she says, grinning.

“Oh, so you like bad girls, huh?” She’s just scored a few points with me. I move over to her bedside, give her a kiss on the forehead, then caress her cheek. Probably some sitcom where I picked that up; I can actually hear the audience with their fake ‘daww’s in the background. I feel so out of place, I wouldn’t be surprised if the earth opened up and swallowed me whole right now.

“Good night.” Brown switches off the lights and we both leave the room.

Back in the dining room, I grab a slice of what Brown called Durian and stuff it into my mouth. “You know, with you, this thing called eating is actually kinda fun.”

Brown laughs and looks at me, but his smile fades quickly. “You’re bleeding again.”

Chrysalis-damnit. Allergic. It’s so ridiculous. I refuse to accept this.

“Here.” He hands me another handkerchief. “Have you found out why this is happening to you?”

I take a deep breath. “No.” I smile at him, managing my best lie in days. “This time, it might be just lack of sleep, you know.” Lining one truth with another. Is that technically a lie?

“Well, alright. Let’s move somewhere more comfy,” he says, and leads me to a smaller room with a big couch, a TV set, and a rug in between. It’s all lit by a set of torchieres, scattered by white walls.

“So, this is Brown’s love cave, huh?” I say, flinging myself onto the couch.

“Hah, actually, it’s just the living room.” He sits down beside me. I wanted to ask you before but: why do you call me Brown?”

“Hmm.” I stretch out. “I called you that in my head before I knew your name, and it kinda stuck.”

Brown laughs. “I think I’ll take back what I said the other day: you’re a bit strange alright.”

“Does that mean I’m no good replacement wife?” This needle in my heart, it’s on fire.

“What?” Brown looks shocked. “I never said you were—”

I jump from the couch and start pacing on the rug. “But you were thinking it, right?”

“No, I didn’t—”

“Well, that’s good then, because you should stay away from me.” My voice, why is it trembling so much?

“Why?” His tone, defensive before, sounds calm now. “Because you’re a changeling?”

I stop in my tracks. Feels like someone just cut my belly open and all that was in there fell out. “Wh-why… how?”

“You shape shifting right before my eyes was one thing. Screaming ‘Chrysalis’ at the top of your lungs during the roller coaster ride was another. I’m not that stupid, you know.”

“But… I’m a monster, how can you—”

“No you’re not.” He stands up from the couch and moves towards me.

“I’m the spider, you’re the fly.”

He laughs. “You’re getting a bit melodramatic with your similes, don’t you think?” He puts a hoof to my cheek. “Would you show me your true form?”

I recoil at his words. I swallow hard, looking at the floor. Then again, I’ve probably made my choice long ago. I lift my disguise, and for the first time in front of a pony, I feel truly naked.

“Thank you,” he says. I look up. He’s just looking at me with those bright blue eyes, smiling his calm smile. A kick to the stomach: Not now! Not now, of all times! I manage to keep my lips shut and keep the food in, but my legs give way and I go down to my knees.

“Glitter!” He’s beside me in an instant. “That… that allergy again? Your meds, where are they?”

“My apartment,” I croak, laughing to myself at the injustice of it.

“I’ll call an ambulance right aw—”

“You’ll stay…” I grab him around the neck and pull him down onto the rug. “... right here. I want this to end on a high note.” With that, I kiss him.

My skin goes from freezing, to on fire, to freezing again. I feel tears of both joy and sorrow fight their way through my clenched eyelids, and I listen to my heart beating defiantly, buying me time.

Ba-dum. One more second of the life I yearned for. Ba-dum. One more second shedding the life I hated. Dum. Truly naked. Dum. No more lies. Um. His lips on mine. Um. The last pony I had to hurt.

---

Epilogue:

Manehattan Times, Friday the 14 of July.
Front Page.

Changeling found dead.

A changeling was found dead in the night from 13th to 14th July in a house on Copper Street, Manehattan. At around 10 p.m. neighbours woke from what they describe as screams and sobbing coming from the house next door. The residents did not respond to knocking. Luckily, the elderly couple had a key from taking care of the resident’s plants not long ago. However, the couple admitted that if they had known what they would find, they might not have entered.

In the living room of the single father and his young foal, a changeling lay dead on the floor. “Horrible, just horrible,” Sunset Shortcake said, another resident of the street that arrived on the scene just a little later. “You’d never expect one of these ghastly creatures to turn up in your very neighbourhood!”

Police ponies arrived at the scene in no time. “The changeling was obviously dead, no doubt about it,” Chief Lead Slinger from the 3rd department commented. “However, there was no sign of a fight. We haven’t been able to get a word out of Mr. Autumn Rain about what went down there yet, he’s just stammering and crying. Shock, no doubt.”

To our reporter’s questions whether there was any danger for Manehattan, Lead Slinger answered: “Rest assured that we’ll be taking every possible measure to investigate this incident and are not taking it lightly. However, we have no reason to believe that this changeling was part of an infestation. There have been reports of other changeling loners, and we believe that this is one of these occasions. There is no reason to worry for the good citizen of Manehattan.”