>You haven't had a chance to relax in a while.
>You say that endearingly, of course.
>Not having a chance to relax means you've been around Gilda nearly every night, having your own little parties every night.
>Then there's Trixie...
>But tonight, neither of them are around, at least until Trixie's show starts.
>So it's back to square one.
>Just you, the bar stool, and a glass of brandy.
>Just like old times.
>Taking a swig of your drink, however...
>It doesn't FEEL like old times.
>Is that a bad thing though?
>All the elements were there.
>The bar was musty and the patrons mulling about their own business.
>Tap slid you a glass of your preferred poison.
>The rain trickled on the windows ever so slightly.
>Pieces fit together perfectly.
>So why didn't it feel the same?
>Hm.
>"Excuse me, Mr. Anonymous?"
 
>Turning your head, you see a purple mare.
>You've never met her before in your life.
>But damned if you didn't already know who she was.
>You acknowledge her with a nod.
>"It's very nice to meet you! My name is-"
"Twilight Sparkle."
>At hearing her own name, she smirks, feeling validated.
>"Oh, you've heard of me? Was it my exploits as an Element of Harmony? Or perhaps my intricate studies have reached far and wide! Or-"
"I don't think there's anyone else I could mistake for you, Ms. Sparkle. I've heard someone call you a..."
>You spend a moment recalling the exact term used...
"...purple life-destroying flank-headed know-it-all brat who sticks her horn where it doesn't belong."
>Her self-important smile quickly turns to a look of disappointment.
>"*sigh* Clearly, we're here to see the same person."
>She turns on her stool, and calls over Tap.
>"One Cranberry Juice, please."
>Lightweight.
>You down another sip of your brandy, as if to assert liquid dominance over the new companion who you've heard so much about.
>Well, not so much heard as rattled complaints about and been told what an awful pony she was.
>So far, she doesn't seem too bad.
"So, I knew who you were. How'd you know who I was?"
>With a raised eyebrow, she simply scans you up and down.
>Oh. Right.
>Human.
 
>You sit there silently for a minute.
>She knows your first impressions of her aren't glorious.
>But that doesn't change much, honestly.
>Who're you to judge?
"So, Ms. Sparkle..."
>"Feel free to call me Twilight. This is a bar, formalities leave at the door."
"So be it, Twilight. If Trixie is so keen on making sure everyone she talks to hates your guts, why exactly are you here?"
>She receives her cranberry juice.
>As soon as it arrives, she takes a large sip.
>"Her show's tonight, isn't it?"
"Yep. You can't honestly just be a fan?"
>Rolling her eyes, her horn starts to light up.
>"Fan...might be an overstatement."
>You see your glass of brandy float towards the mare.
"Hey!"
>The glass is tipped, pouring an amount of the brandy into her cranberry juice until the glass is full once again.
>Sliding it back to you, she takes a sip of her concoction.
>"Mmmm..."
>You're still staring at her, dumbfounded she'd just take your drink.
>"What? Alcohol's expensive!"
>You're starting to see Trixie's point of view...
 
>A few minutes go by with idle conversation.
>Seems this mare, apart from being Trixie's object of hate, is also the town Librarian, a super hero, figured out time travel, and owns a dragon.
>Yeesh.
>Is Trixie just jealous of her?
>No, you remember there's something specific about HER.
>One of her shows.
"I heard the last time you showed up to one of her performances, it didn't turn out so well."
>"..."
"Is this going to be a re-enactment of that one?"
>"For her sake, I certainly hope not."
>She shakes her head slightly.
>"Her...showmanship, for lack of a better word...wasn't well received in town. When two little kids wanted to prove she was truly as great as she said she was, they unleashed an Ursa Minor."
>Ursa Minor? Isn't that a constellation...?
>You take a sip and keep listening, leaving that nugget of questioning in your mind.
>"I ended up stopping it, and Trixie ran out of town."
"I see."
>She takes a drink from her cranberry brandy.
>"Regardless of whatever she's told you, I'm not here to see her fail, Mr. Anonymous."
>With those words, the lights in the bar go dim.
>"...I want to see if she's any different."
>It's showtime.
 
>The lights focus on the stage, and the piano slowly comes into the foreground, played softly to accompany the rain.
>Trixie, clad in her dress, appears on stage.
>The crowd cheers.
>"Seems she's much more appreciated here."
"Looks like, eh?"
>"And that dress makes her look fabulous."
>You shoot a closer second glance at the stage to validate her statement.
>And your eyes stay there.
"You can say that again."
>The microphone floats gently over to Trixie, and her sultry tone of voice permeates the bar.
>"Hello fillies and gentlecolts..."
>She scans the audience.
>Good crowd tonight.
>"I'm the GREAT, and POWERFUL Trixie~"
>Clapping rings out, and a single whistle is heard.
>"And if you're here tonight just to see little ol' me.."
>Looking out to the crowd once more, she sees a familiar face in the back.
>Yours.
>With a confident smirk, she continues.
>"You KNOW you're in for a trea-"
>Until she sees who you're sitting next to.
>The silence is deafening.
 
>She stands there silent looking at the mare not even one barstool to your right.
>Luckily, she catches herself being quiet.
>A trait nearly foreign to the Trixie that's on-stage.
>"...treat..."
>Magic-ing the microphone back into it's stand, she walks to the center of the stage.
>As she looked out into the audience one more time, there was something different.
>A glint in her eye.
>The silence that befell her upon first seeing Twilight?
>That mindset is long gone.
>All that's left is determination.
>And damn if it didn't show.
>Her performance that followed was one of the best you've seen her do, ever.
>Hell, it was one of the best shows in GENERAL you have seen.
>From cheap tricks to grand spectacles, her illusions and magical mastery fit the tone of the bar perfectly.
>It wasn't loud or showboating.
>It wasn't one-up's or challenges.
>It was a mare truly excelling at what she did best.
>Twilight was speechless.
>So were you.
>But not for the same reason.
>While Twilight was amazed at how picture-perfect the performance was, you just sipped at your glass.
>You knew she could do this all along.
>And it's about time you got to see it.
 
>Trixie gallantly walked off the stage, accompanied by the whistles and cheers of an adoring audience.
>So what if the majority of them were drunks in a bar?
>An audience is just, as is the stage.
>And Trixie just beat both into submission.
>She makes a beeline for you and your latest female drinking friend.
>"Well, hello Anon."
"Trixie."
>You act like you don't even give a shit.
>She knows you too well though.
>Your melancholy look soon breaks into a smile.
>"That was EXCELLENT!"
>Completely interrupting the...
>Wait, was that a moment?
>Nah. You don't get 'moments'.
>In any case, Twilight bursted out, congratulating Trixie.
>And Trixie could not be...
>Angrier?
>"Who the BUCK gave you permission to come here?"
>Twilight's dumbfounded.
>"Whoa, wait, I just wante-"
>"I could give a DAMN what you want!"
>Oh boy.
>Quick, stop it now.
>Then again, you haven't seen a good catfight in a while.
>...
>...nah.
>You put your hand on Trixie's shoulder.
>Not holding her back...but ready to if you need to.
"Trix, calm down. She just came to see the show."
>She hastily turns her head to you.
>Her teary eyes accompanied by her hate-filled expression...
>"Let me do this."
>...
"As you wish."
 
>You let go of Trixie, unleashing the caged beast.
>But the beast doesn't pounce.
>She sits there, staring at Twilight, still taken aback by Trixie's demeanor.
>"Listen, Trixie, I know we-"
>"You know? YOU KNOW?"
>She stomps forward, inching closer to the purple mare.
>"You. Have. NO COMPREHENSION of the situation. Do you know where we are? A dive bar. A DAMNED DIVE BAR."
>Twilight tries to inch away from the ensuing rage, but her bar stool is only so wide.
>"Trixie has spent her days here trying to forget what you and your friends did to her. Weeks. Months, in this awful place."
>She's reverting back to the third person.
>This is bad.
>"Trixie, please, I just want to be your friend!"
>Trixie stops.
>She stares at the purple mare once more.
>"After effectively running Trixie out of town, and letting all your friends and townsfolk continue to hate Trixie without a second thought, you come into this sanctuary and have the AUDACITY to offer friendship, months after letting Trixie's reputation stew in the hatred spawned from your actions?"
>Twilight sits there, not speaking.
>The expression on her face is priceless.
>"Get. Out."
>Without another word, Twilight gets up from her seat, leaves a few bits on the counter.
>A few moments later, she's gone from the bar.
>Trixie straightens herself up, and takes her empty seat at the counter.
>Silent.
"...uh, Trix...you alright?"
>She turns to you with a smile.
>"Never better."
 
>She swipes your brandy and chugs it down.
>What, is it open season on your drinks today?
>Clanging the empty glass on the counter, she breathes a sigh of relief.
>"That felt WONDERFUL."
"What, the performance?"
>She snickers.
>"Which one?"
>...wait.
"So that whole thing..."
>"I just wanted her to feel bad for a bit. Admittedly, yes, it was nice to yell at her. But I finally get my..."
>She holds a hoof to her chin.
>"What's the word I'm looking for?"
"Revenge?"
>"No, too angry."
"Uhh...vindication?"
>"Too formal."
"...tit for tat?"
>She looks at you blankly.
>"No."
"Hmmm..."
>You look at your empty glass.
>You look deeper than the bottom.
>It wouldn't be the first time you looked for answers past the alcohol.
"...redemption."
>"Yes! That word works just fine. Redemption."
 
>She orders you two drinks, and you two begin chatting once more.
>Well, not as much chatting as it is her explaining her grand performance and you agreeing at how grand it was.
>It's been a while since you two sat down and talked like this...
>It really is just like old times.
>Except this time, Trixie's finally got her...
>...redemption.
>Who knows, maybe redemption is coming for someone else.
>Someone who stares at the bottom of his empty glass, looking for answers.
>...
>But that's another story.