One- REFINED PARTIES AND REFINED PONIES

"You want ME to host Octavia's party?"

Pinkie Pie was perched in the middle of the Grand Hall. In front of her was a bright blue pony with lavender hair, looking at her with mild contempt. Pinkie's loud voice ricocheted off the smooth carved walls, thundering around the pearly tile floors. Her eyes glittered at the news, tiny crystals gleaming in her round blue orbs like each individual light of a chandelier. Much like the layered one that hung delicately above them. Pinkie's eyes shot upward, staring at it. It reminded her of a big, sparkly cake.

"Yes, I do," the pony replied crisply, shifting her position so Pinkie's nose wasn't quite so close to hers. "I would…very much appreciate that. I mean…no other pony in Equestria is better at hosting than you, Ms. Pinkie." Cornflower Blue (the mare's name) looked a little reluctant, like she would rather be having someone else doing the talking. She flinched every time Pinkie spoke, like maybe the sound waves were material bullets that could bounce off the walls and hit her. Pinkie didn't seem to notice. If anything, she only spoke louder each time she opened her mouth.

"Oh, this is great!" the pink mare squealed, launching herself into the air in pure glee. Had she been born with wings, she'd be zipping around the corridor, and the chandelier would probably be in danger of her flitting about. "I've never hosted a party for someone so important before! Octavia's the best cello player in all of Equestria! And in the Grand Hall itself…the last time I did a party like this was for Candace's wedding! This is amazing! It's fantastic, remarkable, stupendous, terrific! It's…" She paused, putting her hoof on her chin as the gears of her brain turned. Then her ears perked, poised stiffly on her head. "It's awesomecoolacredible!" She threw her hooves up in the air like a pony scientist who'd just made a discovery. Like she was Thomas Haydison himself finally discovering how to make a lightbulb.

Cornflower blue gave a curt nod. "Ahem…yes. Quite. Um…" She swallowed, clearing her throat. "If you don't mind…well, the party is on Friday, and I need the plans by Wednesday. So if you would…"

Pinkie planted a hoof into Cornflower's mouth. "Don't worry, Bluesy, I gotcha! I'll start working right away!"

She darted away, her puffy tail sailing out behind her like a big bushel of cotton candy. Cornflower Blue used a couple of seconds to wipe her mouth (what if her hyperactiveness was contagious?) and then followed Pinkie with her eyes as she dashed to and fro, collecting bits of paper and scrounging all around for a pencil. Saying a silent prayer…something about the chandelier…she left the room, leaving Pinkie and the Equestria Band alone in the room. Strums of harp, low tuba notes, the gentle melody of cello, and plinking piano filled the room. They were all drowned out by Pinkie's high-pitched voice.

"So much to do…so much to do!" the Earth pony squeaked, her hooves pounding the floor. "Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, omigosh…cake! I have to do cake! Um…a purple cake! To match Octavia's eyes! Um, I mean…you DO have purple eyes, don't you, Octavia?" She rushed up onto stage, putting her face so close to Octavia's that their bangs twined together. Octavia's eyes widened and she leaned back, almost tipping over her cello in the process. Pinkie smiled. "Uh-huh…purple! I was right. You like purple, don't you, Octavia?"

Octavia blinked rapidly. "Er…"

Pinkie Pie giggled. "I knew you would! Who doesn't like purple, after all? I bet you'd like it decorated with little purple rosebuds too, huh? Or even better, tulips! Who doesn't like purple tulips?" She started zipping about again, rambling about tulips, before Octavia could get a word out.

"Well, Pinkie Pie," Octavia said, bemused. "I have to leave now…concert at five…" Pinkie didn't much acknowledge her, just shouted something about streamers. Octavia's brow furrowed. She wondered what kind of hooves her celebration was really in…this pony couldn't really be in charge of her big day, could she? Gathering up her stuff, she walked slowly out the door, followed by the tuba and harp player, who seemed eager to leave Pinkie's presence. The only one left was the piano player.

Pinkie didn't seem to notice the sudden absence of the tuba and harp and cello. She seemed perfectly happy either way. But she was, subconsciously, listening to the piano notes. Before long she could feel her tail swinging to the beat.

Then she felt her hooves moving in rhythm to the notes, clacking hard on the tile floor.

Then her whole body started to move with it, and then…she was dancing around the floor, singing and humming to herself.

She heard a breath from the piano bench. She ignored it.

And then… "Ahem."

The cleared throat was so unexpectedly loud that Pinkie fell over, her nose smashing into the floor. She gasped at the pain. "Ow!"

She leapt up immediately and rubbed her nose, more confused than embarrassed. She actually looked at the piano player. He was a young gray-brown stallion with smooth, tufty white hair on his tail and mane. His grass green eyes were slanted downwards in annoyance, and he sported a white collar with a bright red bow fastened to it. His mark was two music notes, one black and one white, the white on top and smaller than the other. He looked fed up. Pinkie spotted his nametag…Frederick Horseshoe.

She briefly remembered "dancing" with him at the Grand Galloping Gala.

"Would it kill you to be a little more...refined?" Horseshoe said crisply.

Pinkie tilted her head, her pale rosy face wincing into a confused smile. "Refined? What do you mean?"

Horseshoe's tired eyes rose to the ceiling. Exasperation was evident in his features. "Your vocabulary doesn't extend beyond partying, does it? 'Refined', as in respectable, distinguished, fancy...sophisticated. If your talent is parties, Ms. Pinkie, then I ask you...why do you shower everything in balloons? Don't you know that streamers and confetti are features of foal's parties? If you're so skilled then why can't you act like an adult for one second? We're in the Grand Hall, for crying out loud. This is no time for your silly games."

The sparkle in Pinkie's bright eyes died down as she absorbed his words. Her poofy hair sagged. "I'm not...sophisticated?"

Horseshoe turned back to his piano, testing a few notes. "Not really, no. Look at yourself...frilly filly dress, the frizzy hair of a six-year-old, no idea how to act at a royal party. You need to grow up a bit...no one first meeting you would guess you're nineteen years old. And as for your party planning, well...it's your life accomplishment, so why can't you a bit harder? You're an amateur. If you want to be a guest in the Grand Hall, then learn how to act your age."

Horseshoe alternated back to his piano, where he practiced ravishing arpeggios, his hooves dancing along the keys. Pinkie just stood there, staring. She was naive, yes, but she knew what he had meant. Amateur? Filly? Pinkie bowed her head quickly so the light wouldn't catch on the sheen of tears collecting on her irises. She wanted to ignore his remarks, like she usually did. But they had sunk in and pierced her. Thoughts began pooling in her head. She tried to shake them away, make her slowly-deflating hair poof up again, but it was no use. She knew deep down that he was right. Hadn't all those ponies at the Grand Galloping Gala looked at her in scorn when she broke out in the Pony Poky? Hadn't every single one of them...including Horseshoe...looked at her with spite? When Princess Candace (who had really actually been Queen Chrysalis) had seen her preparations for the reception of the wedding, hadn't she said it was childish? Maybe Pinkie was really an amateur. Her passion was partying, but...maybe she had a little more to learn about partying. Maybe sometimes a party didn't mean cupcake baking and noisemakers.

Pinkie took one look back at Horseshoe, who had transitioned from warm-ups into a soft, suspended song. Pinkie wanted to sit and listen to it. It sounded so smooth, so sophisticated. For a flicker of a second she wanted to be like that. And that had never happened before. Since the sonic rainboom at the rock farm, she had no doubt in her mind that her destiny was to delight people with cake and party favors. She had flounced around ever since, just being her Pinkie old self. But for a split second she imagined herself like him...sharply dressed, hair combed, eyes coolly slim. Like nothing could bother her. Like she could sail into the breeze forever, untouched by imperfection. Pinkie wanted to be like that.

His piano playing was beautiful. That's all she knew. And she wanted to stay for a while, let the warm notes flow around her. But after what he had said, she didn't feel like she belonged there anymore...she just felt like she was in the way.

"Uh-oh. Not good."

Twilight Sparkle's reading was disturbed by a voice. She looked upwards, spotting a puffy white object floating overhead. It was a cloud, bobbing in the morning wind, accompanied by no other than Rainbow Dash.

"What's not good, Rainbow Dash?" Twilight Sparkle asked, not expecting a legitimate answer. She wanted to get back to Galloping with the Wind as soon as possible, back to the world of Scarlett Gem and Rhett. She had planned that, too...when Rainbow Dash said "Not good," it usually meant that Rarity was heading toward them with a makeup case (lately she'd been chasing Rainbow Dash around, trying to get her to succumb to a makeover), or that she had a cramp in her wing. But her ears perked up at what Rainbow said next.

"Look...Pinkie's mane!" Rainbow Dash exclaimed. The blue Pegasus, immediately after expelling this phrase, jumped off her cloud down to Pinkie's side. Twilight Sparkle shifted her eyes vaguely. A few hoofsteps away, Pinkie Pie was standing...except her hair lacked its typical oomph. The delicately bouncing curls that had once ballooned out over her ears had transformed into a mildly wavy drape of magenta. It wasn't as bad as last time...it hadn't gone completely straight...but it was still enough to worry. Even when Pinkie cried her hair maintained its curliness, so something really bad must've happened.

She closed her book and dropped it on the ground, trotting off to where Rainbow Dash had joined her. The rainbow-haired mare was stooped low, squinting at Pinkie's saddened face. It looked like Pinkie wasn't talking.

"Pinkie...are you okay?" Twilight stared at her, trying to figure it out. But she only saw glumness, empty desolation.

Rainbow Dash huffed. "Looks like she's not gonna spit it out," she said. She focused hard on Pinkie. "C'mon, Pinkie...what's eating you?"

Pinkie just shook her head. "I'll tell you later," she murmured. "I just need...some alone time right now." She dragged her pink hoof in the dirt, making indentations in the soft earth.

Twilight Sparkle's eyebrows shot up. "You, alone time?" She snorted. "Since when have you ever enjoyed alone time? That's totally the opposite of you, Pinkie. Come on...let's gather up Fluttershy and Rarity and Applejack, and we can go out to lunch. We'll discuss it over food, that'll make you feel better."

Rainbow Dash chipped in. "We can buy cupcakes, too, if you want."

This seemed to cheer Pinkie up a bit, as a smile quirked her lips and her hair seemed to scrunch up. "Well…okay. I guess so." This seemed to satisfy the two, and Rainbow beckoned with her rainbow-colored tail in the direction of SugarCube Corner.

She dropped her head to her chest and walked slowly with them, brooding silently over her troubles. Trying to push aside the thoughts with what kind of foods she wanted to eat. A tender yellow cupcake, iced with rich pink frosting and drizzled with multicolor sprinkles…her mouth watered at the imagery that appeared in her mind. Her mind switched from on-again off-again visions of food to the dark words of Frederick Horseshoe. "Amateur! Silly filly!" Had she been ignorant of her actions? Was she just a childish foal whose parties were suited for those much younger than she? These thoughts scared her immensely, because she hadn't gotten this sullen since she'd thought her friends wanted to kick her out of their group. She remembered how desperate she'd felt, seeking friendship in flour sacks and rock stacks. Friendship meant that much to her. She'd felt like she had no purpose; that her parties only annoyed people. The feeling had come back. She wasn't a professional…or she didn't feel like one, not anymore.

The three ended up running into Rarity and Applejack and Fluttershy, who were all in SugarCube Corner doing random activities. Rarity was magically holding a hovering mirror in front of her face, applying an extra coat of mascara, while Applejack was arranging apples into baskets labeled Red Delicious, Fiji, Golden Delicious, and Gala. Fluttershy was scattering seeds to birds, which flapped and pecked around her hooves.

"Hey, guys!" Rainbow Dash piped as she sighted them, swooping down from her aerial position to greet her friends. "We were thinking of going out to lunch. Treat to Pinkie Pie. She's feelin' down in the dumps."

Rarity glanced at Pinkie Pie, her eyelashes thick and black from the extra coat. "Oh dear…your hair's gone flat. Although I must say, it's rather striking that way. With that color pink, the gentle curl suits you ever so well…"

Twilight glared at her. "Rarity, this is no time for fashion advice…"

Rarity sniffed. "I was only saying…besides, you want to cheer her up, don't you? It was a compliment. And instead of standing here, why don't we go to lunch so we can find out what's bothering the poor dear?"

Rainbow Dash nodded in agreement. "Seriously. I'm starved."

The six ended up buying a box of assorted donuts, raspberry lemonades with lemon slices, and egg salad sandwiches with fries and slices of mango. Twilight Sparkle had even made sure they used the plates encrusted with little pink tulips on the side...Pinkie's favorite. Pinkie lit up as soon as she encountered the spread, and her hair regained its normal form a few minutes into the meal.

"So," Rarity said while taking measured sips of her lemonade, "Why were you so upset before, darling?"

She fixed her eyes on Pinkie, who was biting heartily into a chocolate-glazed Krispy Kreme with rainbow sprinkles. The other four ponies turned to look, chews ceasing momentarily as they awaited her reply. Pinkie Pie looked up, a little off-put by the five pairs of eyes poised in her direction. She swallowed, and blinked as the memory flooded back into her mind, like a river into a delta.

"Um," she said, clutching her donut fiercely. "Well...I went to the Grand Hall because Octavia got into the Royal Equestria Orchestra…and I was hired to host the party. Everything was going well…I was doing party planning, writing ideas down…and then Frederick Horseshoe…"

"Frederick Horseshoe?" Rarity interrupted. She batted her eyes in delight. "The piano-playing prodigy? Oh, he's a dream, isn't he? So refined…and so sophisticated!"

Pinkie cringed at the repeated words. "Umm…I know. That's the problem. He told me that I was being loud…and if I could be a little more refined…" She twiddled her hooves. She didn't want to tell them, suddenly. It seemed too embarrassing. Like she was worrying about something to little to bother with.

Applejack swallowed a bite of mango angrily. "What a stud, sayin' that! 'Refined'… Puh-leeze! He's the one who needs some manners." She dipped a couple of fries into ketchup and chomped into them.

"Yeah…who does he think he is?" Rainbow Dash huffed.

"That wasn't the worst of it," Pinkie Pie sniffed, feeling tears behind her eyelids. "He said…that my party planning was childish, and that I was nothing but a silly filly and an amateur. He said all my parties are fit for foals and that I'm good for nothing else!" The tears spilled, drops spattering the tablecloth.

Twilight Sparkle gaped at her. "I can't believe he had the nerve to tell you that…I never imagined Horseshoe could be so rude!" She handed Pinkie a napkin. "Don't cry, Pinkie…he's a snob; don't listen to him."

"But it's true," Pinkie choked. "I can't do anything but bake frilly cakes and hang streamers! I don't know anything about how to host fine parties!"

Fluttershy patted Pinkie's back. "That's not true, Pinkie Pie. Your parties are wonderful." She gave her a tiny smile.

"It's kind of strange, though," Twilight said, sipping her lemonade. "From what I've heard, Horseshoe is supposed to be really shy. He's not good at socializing, so he just keeps to himself...so if he's so timid, why would he tell Pinkie off like that?"

Pinkie shrugged, trying to compose herself. She scrubbed at her tear-streaked face with the crumpled-up napkin Twilight had given her. "I don't know. He seemed more irritated than anything else. Maybe he was intently focused on his piano piece...and I was being loud, and..."

Rainbow Dash exhaled haughtily through her nostrils. "That doesn't give him an excuse to be such a jerk. Anyway, who cares about 'refined' parties? Wearing those stuffy dresses, having to wipe your mouth every time you take a bite of food...what kind of party is that? Parties are meant to be loud and screamy!" She did a fist pump.

Pinkie hunched up her shoulders and sighed. "I know, but I'm a host, and I have to have everything perfect. To tell you the truth, I really might have trouble planning a refined party. I mean, I know that I have to wear a nice dress and everything, and have fancy decorations...but what if the food doesn't taste gourmet? And what if I trip over my dress or talk too loud, or not bring enough drinks or step on the hooves of the stallion I'm dancing with?"

Rarity waved her hoof dismissively. "Darling, there's no need to worry over petty things like that."

Twilight squinted at Pinkie. "Well...your talent is being welcoming and hospitable, to make occasions exciting with festivities. I think that's why you're having trouble thinking of a plan for the perfect refined party...it's because at parties like those, you're not really making people happy or excited; you're celebrating or acknowledging something important. You're just pleasing people...not necessarily exciting them."

Pinkie considered this. "I...guess you're right. I'll try my best." She looked all around the table, meeting smiles at every turn of her head. "Thank you...for buying lunch for me."

"No problem," Twilight said, beaming. "Although...we need to do something about that Horseshoe guy."

"Want me to beat him up for ya?" Rainbow Dash said, punching her left hoof into her right.

Rarity sniffed. "Rainbow Dash, please! Don't be vulgar. You'd be in deep trouble for hurting him—he's a famous Equestrian musician and you'd probably be punished by Princess Celestia yourself. Besides, what's the point in hurting such a good-looking stallion like him?"

Rainbow Dash stuck out her tongue. "Blech! You think he's good-looking? You should see the Wonderbolts..."

Rarity tossed her flouncy violet mane. "Those ruffians? As if I'd want to be with any of them!"

Applejack smiled widely. "I never thought I'd see the day," she huffed. "Rarity and Rainbow fightin' over guys!"

Rarity just tossed her mane again, but Rainbow Dash blushed furiously. "I wasn't fighting, I was…"

"…Debating?" Fluttershy offered sweetly, blinking in innocence.

"Shut UP!" Twilight screeched, and all of the other five ponies looked at her in surprise. Twilight usually never yelled. Raised her voice, yes, but yelling was rare.

"Anyway," the pale purple mare said tiredly, shooting a look towards Pinkie, who was biting into a cream donut and splurching filling everywhere. "We'll help you with your party preparations, and Horseshoe…? Well…we'll figure out something to do with him."

Pinkie nodded, feeling a lot better. Wiping cream off her muzzle, she pictured Horseshoe in her mind. She looked up, as if searching her mind for snippets of the stallion she'd watched sitting on the piano bench. His front hooves dancing over the smooth white-and-black keys, landing in the exact right place. Drumming up such sweet, straight notes that Pinkie thought they could carry her away.

Do any of you KNOW who Frederick Horseshoe is? I hope so. He played the piano at the Grand Galloping Gala.