Rarity sipped some punch from her glass and sighed. "This punch is lovely, Pinkie," she complimented. "Could I have the recipe?"
Pinkie stopped mid-bite and set her fork down. "Oh… it's actually Applejack's recipe! I didn't make it this time." She couldn't stop fiddling with things—her fork, her hair, her clothes…. Whatever was the matter with her?
Politely Rarity smiled. "Oh! I naturally just assumed you had made it." She tried not to be distracted with Pinkie Pie's nervous attitude, but it was vexing her. She took another sip of punch.
"Well…" Pinkie shoveled food into her mouth and spoke between bites, spewing crumbs. "Normally I would've… but I was really busy this past weekend, so Applejack was kind enough to make it for me!" Her gluttony was repulsive. Didn't this Pony know anything about moderation?
Rarity brushed crumbs and droplets of spit off her own cheek and fake-smiled again. "Oh. I see."
"'Scuse me!" Rainbow Dash reached across Rarity to grab some cookies.
Eww! Her armpit was right in her face! And Rainbow Dash always smelled of sweat and body odor. Didn't she ever bathe?
Rarity held a handkerchief to her nose and slipped away, trying to smile but actually sneering. She sat on a barrel and sighed, fanning herself. If only everyone was more like her: elegant, refined, stylish…. She pouted with pity for her friends. Her parents, who hadn't been privileged to attend university, scraped together all their savings and sent Rarity. And she was better for it: she had learned proper etiquette; how to run a business; and of course, how to make exquisite clothing.
"Um, Rarity?" someone whispered.
Only Fluttershy could be so demure. Rarity came out of her trance and looked at her.
Fluttershy's hair was down, not a good idea for a hot day on a farm. Her nails were unpolished, short, and uneven—the last obviously from the disgusting habit of chewing. Her feet were bare, already accumulating dust from the barn. But the worst part was the dress! To name a few atrocious qualities: it was too long, dragging through the dirt with every step Fluttershy would take; too straight, making Fluttershy look thin and curve-less; and just too simple. Why would Fluttershy wear such a hideous thing, especially in a barn?Even Rarity, the queen of fashion, was sensible and humble enough to wear shorts and boots. "Um…" Fluttershy was saying, "what do you think?" She twirled gently and smiled shyly.
What do I think? She raised an eyebrow then smiled. If Fluttershy wanted fashion advice, Rarity would give it. She named everything wrong with it, confident in her knowledge of fashion, expounding on each point until she was sure Fluttershy understood. At the end she laughed and said, "What I want to know is why you didn't consult me before you bought it!"
Fluttershy looked as if she was trying to hold back sobs. "I… I made it." Her voice cracked, and tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Oh, darling, blubbing isn't becoming of you."
Fluttershy wouldn't stop. She kept wiping her eyes, but more tears soaked them every time.
"Now, now, darling, all you need is a little fashion advice! Your stitching is quite good, b-but—" She stopped short when Fluttershy ran off. "Oh, blast."
"Rarity!" Applejack cried, hands on hips and eyebrows in a V. "Why, in all the years I've known ya, I've never seen ya so insensitive!"
"When you're in the fashion business, Applejack, you must learn how to take constructive criticism. Ponies have corrected me just as harshly, and I'm a better designer because of it."
"Oh, yeah? And how'd ya feel when they gave ya 'constructive criticism'?"
"Oh, it hurt at first, but soon I learned you must grow a tough skin."
"Fluttershy doesn't have no tough skin! Dontcha know ya can't talk to her like that?"
"Oh, pish-posh. I know what I'm doing. She'll thank me later." Rarity sat straighter and took a sip of punch.
Applejack snorted and walked off.
Rarity looked about the room. Everyone was frozen, staring at her as if she were a criminal. "What? You don't all agree with Applejack, do you?"
No one answered.
Rainbow Dash looked irate: her face was red and her jaw was set. Without a word she turned and flew out the barn.
Pinkie Pie broke the awkward silence—and made it worse. "Wow, this is awkward and embarrassing!" she practically yelled, laughing nervously.
Twilight Sparkle's face was droopy, her eyes dark. "Maybe we should all just go home."
"What?" Rarity cried. "Is it wrong to give your friends advice? Is it wrong to be right?"
Applejack simply scoffed and crossed her arms.
"Well!" She set her punch down and stood. "Since my friends don't even want me at their party, I'll just go home!" Grabbing her purse, Rarity briskly walked out the barn and toward home, muttering all the way.
Once she reached home, she changed into fancier clothes and applied extra makeup at her vanity. "'More makeup, doll, you need more!'" she quoted, spreading foundation on her skin. "'You can't be seen with those horrid scars.' No one ever apologized to me. Why should I apologize to Fluttershy?"
Rarity touched up her lipstick, but her hand slipped, drawing an ugly line on her cheek. Frustrated, she growled and threw the lipstick over her shoulder, then looked back at her reflection. "Oh, Rarity, you look like a clown." She glared at herself and wiped the lipstick off her cheek, then scoffed. "'You should cover up as much as you can, doll.'" She applied some mascara and began pumping the brush in the bottle. "'Your business needs a face, and this face… simply… won't… do.'" She flung the bottle off the vanity table.
"Well, and what have I done," Rarity called out, her voice amplified in her quiet boutique, "but followed every step you told me? And still it wasn't enough! I didn't have the business mind you did! I couldn't do what you did!" She looked down at her body. "The only thing I could do was…" Sell myself, she finished in her mind. But she could never admit that, not even to the empty air.
Rarity inhaled and straightened up. "But no matter how I achieved it. I convinced Ponies to sponsor me, and here I am now: famous, popular, and successful." She attempted a smile. But when she gazed into the mirror, she hated the mare she saw.