"BRIGHT EYES"
a My Little Pony fanfiction story
c 1988 m. rohde
NOTE: If you are familiar with MLP, you will know that all the Ponies except the Big Brother Ponies are male. In my pony universe, however, I needed boy ponies before the BBPs were invented, so some of the ponies are male and some are female. (How did I know which were which? They told me, of course.)
"Bright Eyes" by Art Garfunkel, on the "Watership Down" movie soundtrack.
"Mathematics of Love" from the children's PBS TV show, Square One.
"Silver" by Julia Ecklar on the album "Divine Intervention," c 1986 Prometheus Music.
No copyright infringement intended.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
BRIGHT EYES, a young college student at MLP University and designer
FIFI, Bright Eyes, roommate and beautician
MOONDANCER, friend of Fifi and Bright Eyes
SKYDANCER, friend of Fifi and Bright Eyes, female pop singer
SKIPPITY-DOO, male pop singer
CHERRIES JUBILEE, male pop singer
HEART THROB, female pop singer
LOFTY, female pop singer
CHAPTER ONE
The house was in a shambles. Moving certainly wasn't something they did every day, and it was tough work. Boxes everywhere! How could they know what was what?
"Hey, that box goes in here!" shouted Fifi, looking in from the other room where she was nervously unpacking her new bone china. "That's the television! Just park it on the yellow stool."
"Whew!" Bright Eyes wiped the sweat out of her eyes as she trotted into the room. "This house is a lot bigger than what I'm used to! Here's the TV." She placed it carefully on the stool and flopped into a chair. "All these rooms make my mind twist. You can get lost in a place like this!"
"Hey," laughed Fifi, "it's not a mansion! I must admit it's not bad, not for just the two of us, but it's still a small house. Just look at the Castle, where all the bands are staying during the Festival. Now that's BIG. It must have at least 15 bedrooms alone!"
Bright Eyes giggled back. "Well, that's different," she protested, but she didn't sound too convincing. "And all the stars are NOT staying at the Castle. Skydancer's not."
"Yes," acceeded Fifi, "but she lives around here. And you've known her for ages, so she doesn't really count as a star."
"And Skippity Doo's not, either." Bright Eyes stared, dreamy-eyed, at the life-size poster of the handsome pop singer, already hanging on their wall. "Wow. I still can't believe he's really performing a concert here on the MLPU campus!" She looked up. "Do you know what? Skydancer's going to meet him! She'll be working with him! And you know what that means..."
"Yeah, that you're going to get a swelled head that your best friend is in close contact with the mega-star of Ponyland," Fifi replied, swatting Bright Eyes on the head with a rolled up newspaper and moving into the other room.
"No, you dipwad!" she retorted at Fifi's back. "It means that I might get to meet him too! And if you're REAL nice, you can MAYBE come with me when I do." She smiled smugly.
"Well, that would be great, but I'd still rather meet Cherries Jubilee. He's a lot more handsome."
"So? He can't write lyrics worth anything. He has to hire all those idiots to do it for him. MY star is a real poet."
Fifi grinned at her friend. "Yeah, sure. Just go and unpack your stuff."
CHAPTER TWO
The first thing that Skydancer did when she moved in was to call Bright Eyes.
"So, how's the ol' homestead look?" she grinned into the phone, offhandedly juggling a few pears. "Does it meet your expectations?"
"Oh, it's beautiful! You should see our kitchen! A fancy stove with a big oven, and enough counter space to choke a walrus. You have to come over and I'll give you the grand tour."
"Well," Skydancer said, glancing at the clock, "it's already 10, so how about tomorrow? No, wait... I have a meeting with the Festival concert committee tomorrow afternoon. Tomorow night, then, around eight?"
"OK," Bright Eyes agreed, "that's fine. I'll be off work by then. See you tomorrow. Oh, and say HI to Skippity Doo when you meet him, and tell him I'm his..."
"Yeah, I know," she laughed, "his abso-tively-poso-lutely number one fan." She hung up, still chuckling.
CHAPTER THREE
Bright Eyes woke early for work; she wanted a head start on their first day here. She pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans and her favorite peasant blouse. Scribbling a note telling Fifi where she was, she left.
The sun was just beginning to creep over the mountains and into the campus grounds. Bright Eyes climbed into their car and drove slowly through it, admiring the beautiful, picturesque mountainside. I've got to learn to ski if I'm going to live here for four years, she thought idly. Finally she arrived at their new location.
The interior of their new boutique was much more elaborate than the prior building had been. This one was small, but nicer; adequate for their needs. And their selection of merchandise was enormous! Fur boas, hair clips, hats, and the old standbys--barrettes and ribbons. Why, they would make twice as much money here!
She settled into her workspace. Then she spied it: a perfume rack! She rummaged through it. There were at least eight different kinds! Bright Eyes sighed happily. She would have fun here!
CHAPTER FOUR
The alarm shook Skydancer awake. She slammed the OFF button down and sat up groggily.
"Why am I getting up at 10 AM?" she asked herself.
"You have to go to a meeting at 11 AM," she answered herself. She got out of bed and dressed in a hurry, putting on her skateboarding outfit. She walked down the apartment stairs, examining her map of the campus. "Which way is up? Ah ha, here's the honors dorm. That's next door. So, the Castle is here--" she madean X where the building was. "Off I go!" Pulling her visor down over her forehead, she pushed off and sped down the sidewalk.
The Castle soon came into view. It was enormous, and as beautiful as Bright Eyes claimed it was. Skydancer banked sharply around a corner, jumped off her skateboard, opened the door and walked inside.
A large golden table was majestically placed in the center of the room. Around it were seated five ponies, all chattering away. One turned her head to welcome the newcomer -- and it was Heart Throb, Chairman of the Festival. She was also a famous singer, like the rest of them.
"Why, hello there, Skydancer! I didn't think you'd wake up in time for the meeting," Heart Throb teased, standing up to shake Skydancer's hand. "Come and sit, and let me introduce you to the others. Everybody, this is Skydancer, and here's Cherries Jubilee, Lofty, and Skippity Doo." She smiled at each in turn. When she said Skippity Doo's name, she walked over to him and shook his hand.
"I have a friend who would really, really, REALLY
like
to meet you," she began.
"Her name is Bright Eyes, and she's your 'numero
uno' fan.
"Sure," Skippity Doo grinned at her, his cheeks dimpling in amusement. "I'd be glad to."
"Great," she sighed in mock relief. "That'll get her off my back. So, what's going on?"
"We were talking about which songs we'd each selected to sing for the last Festival concert," Lofty said. "Do you have any preferences? I thought I'd sing "Out of the Blue."
Cherries Jubilee added, "Yeah, that would contrast well with "Bull's Eye." I thought that would be a good number for me to do."
The talk went on, mostly leaning towards friendly chatter about each other's careers. Skydancer learned that while Skippity Doo wrote his own lyrics, he didn't know much about writing music, though he had a good voice. She thought that was a coincidence, since SHE usually had trouble with writing lyrics, but the music just flowed from her pen onto the page. She told him so.
"Music is kind of a foreign language to me," he said, "I can translate it, but not speak it."
Soon they ran out of time and broke for the day. "See you all tomorrow," Heart Throb called as they went out the door.
"Need a lift?" Skippity Doo asked Skydancer, who was looking for her skateboard.
"Sure! Why don't we go over and say hi to Bright Eyes and her friends now?"
"Okay."
They climbed into his Porsche and drove to the Perm Parlor. Skydancer got out, then looked back in and smiled at him. "I think I'll go in and prepare them first. They can be a little bit... er, excitable."
She walked in through the door. Fifi, her friend Moondancer, and Bright Eyes were over by the front counter.
"Hey, look, kids," said Skydancer, "I have a surprise for you. He's out front, so wait a minute while I go get him."
"Him?" remarked Bright Eyes. "Did you find a boyfriend?"
Skydancer gave her a mock incredulous look. "Me? Hardly. Hold on." She shot out the door.
"What do you think it could be?" pondered Fifi. Then Moondancer gave a cry.
"Look, out front! It's Skippity Doo's car, right there! See the licence plate?"
Fifi started. "That means that the surprise must be..."
"Me," a baritone voice chuckled. The three girls whipped their heads around to see Skippity Doo framed in the doorway with Skydancer beaming over his shoulder. She made a rabbit-ears sign above his head and winked at their astounded faces.
Fifi stepped forward. "Uh, well... er, that is, uh, we... hello."
"Hello." He turned to Skydancer. "Aren't you going to introduce me to these ladies?"
Skydancer pranced gleefully over to the three girls. She was enjoying their consternation. "Skippity Doo, this is Fifi, this is Moondancer and THIS --" she shoved Bright Eyes forward "-- is the one you want to talk to." She seized Fifi and Moondancer by the arms and guided them to the door. "C'mon, let's go to my place. See you later, Bright Eyes." She slammed the door behind her.
The room grew quiet.
Bright Eyes stared at the floor, blushing furiously.
Skippity Doo cleared his throat. "So... Skydancer tells me you work here?"
She nodded mutely. Finally, she got the courage to look up, and saw him standing there, smiling at her in his mirrored shades. She knew for a fact that he never took them off in public. There wasn't a picture of him in the world without his sunglasses on.
"I can't believe I'm telling you this, but I'm a really big fan," she blurted out.
His smile deepened. "That's very flattering."
"I listen to your records all the time. Fifi says that someday she'll burn them. But I know it's not music. It's poetry. I'm a poet myself. It's art."
"Well... I'd like to think so," he replied, walking around in slow circles, "but I suppose everyone has their own opinions."
"My most favorite song in the world is 'Blackening' on the Tropical Paradise album."
He smiled. "Did you know that when I wrote that, I was in..."
"... Chicago, I know, and you were influenced by the exhaust on the street," she said eagerly. He laughed, a deep but light sound.
"Sounds like you know more about my history than I do." He looked at his watch. "Oh, hey, I'm sorry, but I'm supposed to meet someone down at Coasters in ten minutes. I'd better run."
"A girl?"
"No, my producer. I don't have a girlfriend."
The look of relief on her face was so sudden that he couldn't help laughing again. "Gotta run. But, hey, why don't you come with your friend Skydancer to the meeting tomorrow at the Castle? We'd love to have an outside opinion on the Festival plans."
She stared at him. "Why, I... wow, I'd love to, but I have to work! Fifi can't run this place by herself!"
"Well, then, close for the morning and bring her along."
Bright Eyes thought fast. "Uh... sure, I guess that would be okay! I'll be there!"
"Terrific. Talk to you tomorrow, then. Bye."
"Goodbye!" She ran to the window to wave at him as he drove away. Then she slumped to the floor, dazed.
"Where is she?" Fifi paced the floor of Skydancer's modest but pretty apartment. "Do you think she could have been... er, molested in any way?"
Skydancer and Moondancer were playing catch with a pear. "Nah," Moondancer said nonchalantly. "She'll be here any time." A sudden knock on the door made Moondancer drop the pear.
"Hi guys!" Bright Eyes cried as she ran inside. "You'll never guess what happened!"
"What? What happened?" A chorus of excited voices surrounded her.
"Well, Skippity Doo and I talked for a while, and he asked me to come to the meeting tomorrow."
"No! Really?"
"Yes! And so I told him that I had to work, but he said I should close the store and bring Fifi and Moondancer along!"
"Really? He really said that?" Fifi was ecstatic. "That means I get to meet Cherries Jubilee!"
"Well, all right, then... you ladies meet me out front tomorrow morning, say about 11?" Skydancer interjected through the noise.
They all agreed, and Fifi and Bright Eyes returned to the Perm Parlor to wait for tomorrow.
CHAPTER FIVE
Skippity Doo didn't like driving. He thought it was dull. So, to pass the time, he thought a lot when he was in the car. Today, on his way to the second discussion of the Festival Commitee, he was thinking about Bright Eyes.
She was young, he could tell that; perhaps around eighteen or nineteen. But she seemed more sincere than the typical screaming teenager. Like she cared about his music more than his celebrity status. He was a little concerned about having her at the meeting, though, after the way she'd acted at the Perm Parlor. What if she gushed all over the other musicians?
But she certainly was attractive, in a petite sort of way. Her attractiveness was different from the women he had known before. She wasn't as sophisticated. It was kind of refreshing to meet a woman who didn't assume she owned the world. He liked her.
He pulled into the Castle front courtyard and went inside. There they all were, gathered around the golden table. He peeked over his mirrored shades when no one was looking, and saw Bright Eyes was wearing a tight blue dress with a loose, low-slung cowel neck. She certainly knew how to show off her terrific figure. Then Bright Eyes looked up from her conversation with Lofty and saw him.
"Hey, Skippity Doo!" she waved, and ran over to see him. When she reached him, her face lit up in a beautiful smile.
"I don't know how I should greet you," she said shyly. "Shaking hooves seems so formal."
He stood there, staring. Her relaxed attitude was such a change from yesterday's choppy sentences. He had to restrain himself from putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close.
He mentally shook himself and managed a grin. "Hey, words are fine, OK? And you don't need to be so formal. Skip is fine. Shall we sit down?"
It seemed he'd misjudged her reaction to the other musicians. She seemed completely at ease. He paid little attention to the meeting and just focused on her; the way she moved, the way she talked, her laugh, her breathtaking smile.
All too soon, the session was over and he found himself sitting at the table alone. Everyone was leaving.
"Yo, Skip!" Skydancer was poking him. "I wanted to talk to you about an idea I had for a song."
"Oh, sure, right...I'm a bit preoccupied, sorry. How about this afternoon?"
"How about now?"
He shrugged. "That's no problem for me. At my place?" She agreed, and they squeezed once more into his tiny Porsche.
As he drove, he found Skydancer idly whistling a pretty tune. "What's that song?" he asked. "Have I heard it somewhere before?"
She laughed. "No, I wrote it last night. That was one of my ideas. See, I have no talent for writing words to songs. But I love writing music -- it just flows out of my head onto a page or into a tape recorder. This tune I wrote doesn't have any words. So I thought maybe, well, that perhaps... that is, maybe --"
"-- that I could write the words?" Skippity Doo continued.
Skydancer nodded, holding her breath.
"I'd love to. I have to force myself to write music, but my poems are scribbled all over the place. If I wrote a poem, do you think you could set it to your music?"
"Sure!" Skydancer brightened. "No problem! It would have to be kind of an emotional theme. Something you care about. I have the music right here." She patted her bag. "It needs a little work, though."
Skippety suddenly thought of Bright Eyes. "An emotional theme... something I care about. Hmm. I may have an idea already!" He tried to make it sound like he was changing the subject. "By the way, your friend, Bright Eyes... does she live around here?"
"Yes, down the road, near the Pi Epsilon Beta frat house. Why?"
"Oh, just curious." He began whistling 'Blackening.'
***
"No, no, no! You don't see because you won't see. I put the woodwind instrumental in because it symbolizes loss and hope. You just CAN'T have lyrics there!" Skydancer was pacing Skippity Doo's floor and pushing her long rainbow hair back out of her face. Skip rolled over onto his back from his position on the couch and sighed.
"Okay, okay, I see your point. But that melody itself cannot be sustained without the support of vocals! We have to put another verse or a repeat chorus after the instrumental. Also, I think this main line of the song should be an oboe, not a clarinet, during the woodwind solo." He sat up, adjusting his sunglasses self-consciously.
"Okay. That's better, that's much better," she murmured, making a few pencil marks in the score. "All right, I think we're ready to give it a try." Then she looked at him intensely.
"What are you doing tonight?" she asked him.
The question caught him off guard. He stumbled around in his words, making mush out of them. "Er, uh... just, er, watching some television, nothing much."
"Well, why don't you go out? I bet you could get a reservation in the Tree House at Coasters." Coasters was the new bar/restaurant in the area. It had a reputation for great food and a pretty atmosphere, and the Tree House was the best. It was a green, lush, one-table setting on the balcony, meant to be as private as possible.
"Uh, well, er... do you... are you trying to give me a... a clue as to whom I should eat there with?"
Skydancer stared at him, puzzled, then laughed. "No, it's not me! Don't worry, I'm not hitting on you. Trust me. It's Bright Eyes."
"Bright Eyes!?"
"I bet she'd love it! Go ahead, it would make her day." She grabbed her skateboard and smiled.
"Have fun," she called as she slammed the front door.
He found himself standing, trying to collect his wits. Then he remembered the way Bright Eyes had smiled at him, her eyes sparkling.
He took up the phone book and looked up the number for Coasters.
Bright Eyes decided to walk home from the meeting today instead of driving. She loved the scenery, and besides, she had a lot on her mind... most of which was Skippity Doo.
She could never have remembered a time when she had been so happy. Just his presence seemed to electrify her with energy and joy. Especially this morning... but he hadn't been himself this morning. He'd seemed more distant and hadn't looked at her at all. Of course, one couldn't tell, behind those shades. But the energy was there, darting between the two of them like lightning. She wondered if he could feel it too.
She arrived at home and waltzed into the house, humming 'Blackening.'
The phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She ran to answer it.
"Hello?" she said breathlessly.
"Hi, Bright Eyes," Skydancer said. "I was just at Skippity Doo's. Guess what! We're going to collaborate on a songfor the festival!"
"Wow," she whispered, eyes wide. "That's great! What's it called?"
"Uh... I really don't know yet. See, he's writing the words, but he hasn't finished them yet... but the music is great," she added enthusiastically. "Oh, by the way, I can't come over tonight, so you're free to do what you want."
"But... there's nothing to do."
"Wait," Skydancer said mysteriously. "Good things have a way of turning up when you least expect them to. Bye."
The dial tone left Bright Eyes staring at the phone, puzzled. But she had no sooner hung up when the phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"Bonjour, ma petit cherie."
"Skippity Doo!" She almost fell down in her astonishment. "Where did you get my number?"
"There's a thing called a phone book, you see..." he teased. "What's up?"
"Uh, not much. Why are you calling me?"
"Is there a law against it?" He stopped teasing and took on a serious tone. "I was free tonight, and I wondered if you wanted to go out for a bite to eat."
"Me?" She was flabbergasted, yet pleased. "I mean... I bet you have millions of other choices."
"No, I don't. I swear it. Do you want to? I'd like to talk with you. You mentioned being a poet."
"Uh, yes, I write some," she said in a flat tone. She was too stunned to say more.
He took her tone as rejection, and hurried on, "If you don't want to, that's just fine..."
"No! I... I'd love it."
"Great! I'll see you at seven, then?"
She looked at the clock. It read six thirty.
"Sure," she managed to say. "Bye." The phone slipped back onto the hook, and she sat quickly on her bed to prevent herself from fainting. She took a few deep breaths, and stood up resolutely.
"I'll make him know I'm not afraid of him," she said aloud, and began to rifle through her clothes.
CHAPTER SIX
He took a deep breath, and walked up to the tiny house, shaking his head.
"I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it, she'll hate this," he kept muttering to himself. He knocked on the door, and Fifi answered.
"She'll be out in a second," she smiled at him. "Come on in."
"Thanks," he said easily, trying to mask his irrational nervousness. He strode in and sat on the couch. "So, how's college life?" he asked her.
"Oh, not bad. Of course, classes just started."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot." God, he was really making a fool of himself!
After an eternity, her bedroom door opened, and Bright Eyes stepped out.
He looked at her. And looked again.
He realized she made her living as a beautician, and tonight she had used her skills to their utmost. Her eyes seemed luminous and twinkled like twin stars. The contours of her face were soft and utterly feminine, and her hair shone like satin. The dress was a flaming red and hugged her delicate curves perfectly. She was every inch a beautiful woman. He felt himself being drawn to her with a magnetic force he had never felt before.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked him softly.
He looked up through his sunglasses into her sparkling eyes and couldn't speak.
"I am," he replied when he found his voice again.
Fifi ushered them outside, waving as they got into his car and left.
***
As they drove off, Bright Eyes turned to him. "Do you like this dress?" she asked again. "We just got this new style in at the boutique, and I thought I'd give it a shot. Do you think it works? Tell me what you really think."
What I really think, he thought, glancing at her. How can I tell her that I think she's gorgeous and sweet and sexy? I barely know the girl, for pete's sake! And she's so young! What ever possessed me to ask her out? And to the Tree House, no less! Pretty soon she'll start acting like the teenager she is and climb all over me. I shouldn't have encouraged this.
"I really do like it," he said truthfully.
Bright Eyes smiled and brought out a paper that had been written on. "This is one of my poems," she told him. "I wondered if you'd look at it and critique it for me. I mean, when you're not driving. Just as a favor."
"Sure," he agreed, grateful that she was moving on to a safer topic. "You know, I'm not the best poet in the world. You could get much better opinions from someone else."
"Oh, no! I want your opinion because... well, because I care about it. Your work has always been an important influence, so now that I meet you, finally, I would love to hear your opinion." She smiled bashfully. "Skydancer tells me that you're writing a song together."
He nodded, concentrating on the road. "I haven't written my bit yet, though; just a bunch of half-formed ideas so far. Skydancer -- are you two good friends?" he added, curious.
"We've been best friends for years. I'm usually the one who ends up helping her with her lyrics for songs." She made a strangling sign and a horrible face. Skippity Doo laughed.
"Well, she's got a lot of talent at writing music. If I were half as good as she is, I would be a billionaire."
"I thought you were a billionaire!"
"No, not quite. Though I do have quite a little nest egg for when I decide to settle down in one spot. I've always wanted a real home, you know, instead of always moving around so much."
"I know exactly what you mean," she replied positively. "Skydancer feels the same way, but she hasn't found the right place yet. Maybe here will be it. I hope so. It's so beautiful here."
Skippity Doo looked thoughtful for a while, then saw that they'd arrived at their destination: Coasters.
"THIS is a bite to eat?" she said incredulously. "This is a four star restaurant!"
"I've reserved the Tree House for us," he told her. "I thought we might want to be alone. To concentrate on your work," he added quickly. They proceeded inside.
The interior of the bar was decorated in black and orange. Colored lights flooded the dance floor and compelled you to dance. A large stereo system filled one entire corner of the bar.
"We can just go on upstairs," Skippity Doo said, but Bright Eyes hung back, suddenly feeling very timid about being alone with the tall rock star.
"Would you care to dance first?" she asked him. "Just one dance."
"Okay," he agreed amiably. They waited until a new song came on the stereo's speakers. To their amusement, it was 'Blackening.'
"Just our luck," Skippity Doo muttered, but his eyes were twinkling. "C'mon, let's dance!" He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her, laughing, onto the dance floor. Suddenly, someone screamed.
"Omigod! It's Skippity Doo!" a girl by the bar was shrieking. The surrounding dancers began to gape and press in around them, trying to touch his clothes or his face.
Bright Eyes began to panic, and she glanced wildly at Skippity Doo for reassurance. But he seemed to be coping with the attention patiently and calmly, pushing through the crowd and up the stairs to the Tree House. She followed, right on his heels. They emerged at the top with the crowd being held reluctantly back by a security guard.
"Now, now, what's all this," the guard cried at the mob. "Go back to your dancing and drinking and leave these people alone. I'm so sorry, sir," he added, turning to them. "Customers can get a bit riled at times. Now you go on up and no one will bother you."
"Thank you," Skippity Doo replied, "that's just what we wanted." He looked at Bright Eyes and smiled.
She tentatively smiled back, which triggered a flood of emotion in him. He resisted an impulse to touch her face. This wasn't what he had been expecting at all! She wasn't the one trying to get at him; he was trying to get at her! He pledged to himself to restrain himself. She was just an innocent girl.
They walked upstairs into the lovely Tree House. It was true to its name, having greenery all around and a great view of the town through the globe of glass encompassing them. Bright Eyes sank into one of the plush velvet seats and sighed.
"Whew! That was an adventure," she commented, wiping her forehead. "Now I know how you people must feel whenever you walk into a group of fans. It was so... I don't know, maybe I'm claustrophobic, but it felt like I was suddenly about to be consumed."
"You get used to it."
"And to think that if you had walked into a diner or someplace where I was, and I hadn't known you, I mean, met you as a friend, that's the way I would have acted." She grimaced. "How revolting!"
He grinned and sat down next to her, enjoying theircloseness despite his internal pledge. "Yes... and tell me, now that you do know me, are you thinking of me the same way you did before?"
Bright Eyes looked at him, shaking her head with a puzzled frown on her face. "No," she said, "I'm not. I used to listen to your records and look at your pictures in magazines, thinking, 'If I could just meet Skippity Doo, I'd be the happiest girl in the world.' Now I realize that you're not just a rock singer, but you're a person. A person with cares and faults, just like all of us."
"Yes... and feelings..." he added softly.
His conscience screamed at him. He looked again at Bright Eyes and told his conscience to take a hike.
He took her hand in his. "Is it OK if I give you a hug?"
She nodded, her eyes large and luminous in the dim light of the moon.
His arms enfolded her in a tight hug, and she closed her eyes and relaxed as he caressed her back and head. "Oh, Skydancer had a good idea there," he murmured. Suddenly she broke out of the embrace, looking at him again. The mood was gone.
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
He looked back at her, confused. "Well, Skydancer was the one who suggested I take you here, and..." He didn't finish. Bright Eyes was staring at him, a horrid look growing on her face. Then she was on her feet, her eyes flashing.
"You mean you never really wanted to go out with me? You only did it because Skydancer asked you to?" Her lip trembled. "You... faker! I thought you liked me!" Her eyes were firey with anger. "I knew there had to be another reason why you were paying attention to me. I can't believe I trusted you!"
Suddenly, through his haze of confusion and hurt, it seemed to Skippity Doo that the sparks from her eyes were real. He smelled smoke and the fumes of burning hair. Flames licked up from the cushions and tablecloth, as well as her dress. For a split second, he saw her as a demon, trying to kill him for hurting her. "Bright Eyes...!" he cried out.
Then her eyes cleared, and she screamed just as the smoke alarm went off. People came rushing in with fire extinguishers and blankets, putting out the flames. Someone helped them out the door and into an office room.
"Good lord, what happened, sir?" a waiter asked. "Are you and the lady all right?"
"I... I think we'll be okay," he said shakily, still not believing what he had seen. "I have some burn ointment back at the house; that should be fine." He saw that Bright Eyes had fainted, her dress charred and burnt away at the edges. Without a second thought, he scooped her up (he noticed that, even in a faint, she was lighter than a feather) and carried her out to the car.
"Everything's going to be fine, don't you worry, everything'll be fine," he kept murmuring. Whether it was to reassure him or her, he didn't know. They sped away into the night.
***
"Wake up! Come on -- please, just open your eyes."
A hand was shaking her. Bright Eyes tried to ignore it, tried to sink back into the comforting oblivion from which she had been aroused, but the insistent shaking forced her to blink and look up. She found herself staring at her own smudged face... then realized she was seeing herself reflected in Skippity Doo's mirrored sunglasses.
He nearly started crying when she opened her eyes -- her beautiful, infinitely faceted eyes. He turned away and regained control as she sat up and saw where she was. They had gone back to his house. She was lying on his couch, bandages and soothing medicine on her burns.
"What am I doing here?" she asked him hesitantly. "What... oh... I remember... the restaurant?" He nodded mutely. Bright Eyes sighed, a long, quavering sigh. "Oh... I didn't think I'd need to tell you about my... problem."
He sat on the floor by the couch and asked, "What really happened back there? I could have sworn I saw... but that's impossible. How did the fire start?"
"No... what you saw was real. You see, I have what you might call a... a kind of magical combustion. Whenever I have strong feelings about something -- anything at all, be it anger, happiness or fear -- my eyes will give off a bright light. If I don't calm down, they'll throw sparks. Sometimes hot enough to start a fire, like tonight."
Skippity Doo stayed silent. He was having trouble understanding this. "That's incredible," he finally said. "You can really start fires with your eyes? That's amazing..."
She shook her head, smiling a horrible, rueful smile. "No! You don't get it, do you? It's not amazing; it's awful! Haven't you wondered why my name is Bright Eyes? It's a curse! A curse, you understand? And I hate it!"
"Bright Eyes! Calm down," he cried and grabbed her flailing hooves. He stared at her until she looked away. The metallic sharpness of his glasses almost made him seem inhuman.
"It's not a curse," he said slowly and emphatically. "It's a wonderful gift that you were given. If you could just learn to control it."
"But I don't want to control it! I just want to forget about the whole thing..." She broke away from his grip and buried her face into a pillow.
"Look, forgetting's not going to help! It'll just happen again. Live with it; learn about it. Otherwise, you could really get hurt someday. It's not going to be easy, but you'll make it work out, I know it."
"It makes me weird, it makes me ugly and fiendish," she moaned, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"It makes you unique and special," he returned.
She brought her tear-streaked face out of the cushion and sniffed. "I'd rather be normal, like everyone else."
He grinned. "Hey! Imagine what a world it would be if I were normal!?" She glanced at his bright orange hair and wild clothes and grinned tearfully back.
Then her face turned stormy again. "Did Skydancer really tell you to go out with me?"
"Well... it's a confusing issue. See, while we were working on our song, she casually suggested that I ask you out this evening."
"I knew it!" she flared, turning her back on him.
"Wait! Hear me out!" Her back stayed toward him, but she listened. "I had been thinking of doing the same thing. But I was afraid you'd say no, so I was afraid to."
"You were?" she asked hopefully, staring at the wall. She seemed like an innocent child. He sternly reminded himself that she WAS.
"Yes. Then she said that you'd love to, and so I decided to take a chance. Can you blame me for being afraid? You're so... full of life, and so dynamic. Maybe you don't realize it right now, but your gift is a wonderful thing. It's one of the things that make you so compelling."
"Yeah?" She turned back to him shyly, wiping her face. "What are the other things?"
His laughter pealed out, making her
smile. "Your smile, for
one," he
pointed at her, giving her one of his own lopsided
grins. "It makes your
whole face light
up, and I don't just mean your eyes!
And... oh, lots of things that
probably would seem insignificant if I
mentioned them. But they make you
pretty
cool." His grin
turned
playful. "Hey,
you know, I'd
give anything for a trick like you have with your
eyes.
She finally relaxed at his silly words and laughed out loud. Then he stood up.
"And now, I think I should get you home so you can rest." He helped her to her feet from the couch. "Tell your associates that you won't be in tomorrow. I'll stop by your house and check in on you around noon, OK?"
"You don't have to do that," she protested.
"Oh, but I do. I kind of feel responsible. Let me dote, okay?"
She nodded reluctantly, but was pleased. They walked out to the car, finally at ease with each other.
Skippity Doo was satisfied. She might be beautiful, and wonderful, and compassionate, and strong-willed. But she was too young. Treat her like a child: that was the ticket. And everything would be fine.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Skippity Doo!!!"
He winced at Fifi's piercing voice as she strode into the huge reception room at Dream Castle. Her hooves clattered loudly on the floor and she did not look happy. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable.
"What did you do to Bright Eyes last night?? She came in with her dress torn and her hair blackened, bandages all over her, and this dazed look about her, and to top it off, she went to bed without answering any questions! I want some answers. NOW!"
"Now Fifi," Skydancer cut in smoothly, taking Fifi by the arm. "Let me tell you something about Bright Eyes that I don't think you knew." She led her into the corner and began speaking quickly and quietly. Skippity Doo could see her eyes widening inch by inch.
Finally they came back to the table, Fifi looking a bit amazed and much calmer. "Sorry, Skippity Doo," she apologized, "I didn't know. I think Bright Eyes and I have to have a long talk."
"I think I have a good idea for the lyrics for our song, Skydancer," said Skippity Doo. She nodded. "I had wanted to write it about something unusual, something sad but hopeful. Well... what do you think of doing it on Bright Eyes's magical ability?"
Skydancer looked thoughtful. Fifi looked astounded. The others looked confused.
Skippity Doo gave them all a quick explanation of what had happened last night.
"She feels threatened by it," he concluded. "I think it really takes a lot of energy out of her. Afterwards, when she came to after she fainted, I saw a lot of hard truths in her eyes. It was like watching someone through a glass wall. I didn't feel like I could reach her. That's a tough burden to bear -- and yet she's still so energetic and alive."
"I like it," Cherries Jubilee commented. "It could make a great song. I've heard Skydancer's music -- very good music, I might add -- and this theme sounds like an excellent match. Give it a shot it, Skip." The others agreed. Skippity Doo nodded resolutely as he opened his notebook and began writing.
The meeting went on without him, aside from a few affirmative grunts he put in every now and then. He wrote a few words, frowned, crossed some out, erased others, then wrote a few more words. As their discussion drew to a close, he slid the notebook across the table to Skydancer, his expression doubtful, but pleased.
Skydancer skimmed the page quickly, then looked up at him. "Great! This'll match the tune very well. But don't you think it's a bit too melancholy? I suppose I could stick in a few diminished chords in there to match the tone better... "
"Good! Good!" he cried, rubbing his front hooves together in excitement. "All I care is that it'll be set to music. Good music, for a change!" He leapt up suddenly, unable to contain his enthusiasm, and swept Skydancer literally off her feet in a bone-crunching hug. Ignoring her cries of protest and giggles, they danced around the room, nearly knocking Truly down as she walked through the door. In the confusion, Skippity Doo tripped over the edge of the rug and landed on the floor, Skydancer on top.
"Why, Skydancer!" a voice drifted out from beneath her elbow. She moved it aside to reveal Skippity Doo's flushed face. "I didn't know you cared!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Afterwards, the two went to Skippity Doo's house to merge the lyrics with the music. They found, to their pleasure, that the meter of Skippity Doo's words fit nearly exactly with Skydancer's music. Skippity Doo brought out a bottle of wine and two wine glasses to celebrate.
"I never thought it would turn out as well as this," he remarked as he poured the wine. "That song must be one of my finest works."
"OUR finest works," she corrected him. She took her wine glass and held it up. "To our first collaboration. May it not be our last."
"I'll drink to that." They clinked their glasses. "I've been waiting a long time for a great musician like you to come along and write my music for me. And what happens? She's already doing her own thing." He rolled his eyes. "What luck."
"I feel the same way."
"You know, I just had a thought." Then he shook his head. "No, it's too crazy."
"What? Tell me."
"Well, we each lack a necessary part for producing and singing songs, right? I need music and you need lyrics. Also, you need more recognition for your releases to become popular, and I need someone to keep me company at home. It's very lonely, living by myself."
"I know. Since Bright Eyes left, I've missed the company... what are you getting at?"
"Well... I've been looking for a place to settle down for a few years now, and I decided that this might be just the kind of place to be. A nice, out-of-the-way home in the suburbs of a western city kind of grabbed my attention. So. If I need you and you need me, well, why don't we stay together?"
"You mean... be housemates?"
"Yeah, I told you it was crazy."
"No, no, no, I think it's a fantastic idea! I was planning to stick around here until Bright Eyes got out of college anyhow, so why NOT live here? The only problem I can think of is -- where? Neither of our houses are big enough for two."
Skippity Doo nearly choked on his wine. "Gosh," he burbled. "I didn't mean in one of our present houses! You forget; I have a neat little fortune tucked away in a Swiss bank account, and I was planning on purchasing a house with some of it. But a big house isn't nearly as much fun without someone to enjoy it with, is it?"
Skydancer suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Um... Skippity Doo, are you trying to, er, ask me something? Or tell me something? If so, just say it."
"Skydancer, I'm not asking you to marry me! I thought we were friends."
She looked relieved. "Yes, of course we are! We're friends. And if you want me to share in your fortune, then I'd be glad to live in your house, partner!" They laughed and embraced.
"Bright Eyes will be ecstatic!" Skydancer smiled, starting for the phone. Then she stopped. "Bright Eyes. Hmm..."
"What?"
"Well, I promised Bright Eyes that when she got out of college, we would live together again. This new plan will change that. I don't want to upset her."
"No problem. We'll have plenty of room for her, and six dozen other college students, if you want them. Her roommate -- Fifi, right? Ask her too."
"You mean it?" Skydancer shook her head in disbelief. "You're amazing!"
"That's me!" he grinned, bowing elaborately. He gestured at the phone. "G'wan. Ask 'em."
"We'd better ask them in person! Bright Eyes will never believe me if you don't confirm it."
***
"WHAT???"
"Sure, why not," Skippity Doo told Bright Eyes and Fifi, beaming at their disbelief. "I just thought you'd be lonely without Skydancer."
They cried out in excitement, jumbling their words. "Oh, we'd love to! This is just... oh! God, this is so... wow! A real house?"
"To fit all of us, it'll have to be a real BIG house," Skydancer added jubilantly.
"So? Will you come?" he asked.
Bright Eyes tore off her work apron and flew into Skippity Doo's arms. He looked at the others over her head, a bit embarrassed, but pleased.
"I take it that's a yes," he said.
CHAPTER NINE
"Moving! For the second time in a matter of months!" Fifi exclaimed as she wrapped their dishes in newspaper. She winced as Bright Eyes nearly dropped the lamp. "Careful!"
"I AM being careful! Anyway, we're not leaving until Skippity Doo has our house finished. Have you seen our room plan? It's great! And a huge bay window! It's going to overlook the garden. Skippity Doo promised me red rose bushes," she added dreamily.
Fifi grinned at her friend. "Just pack, will you?"
"But isn't it incredible that we're moving in with one of the biggest rock stars in the world?! And it's Skippity Doo, no less! Skippity Doo, the greatest poet in history. Skippity Doo..."
"... the man you're madly in love with," Fifi finished, sweeping her hooves out in a dramatic motion. Bright Eyes flushed and continued packing the lamp.
"Hey, a crush is a great thing!" Fifi protested. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it! And he's even friends with you. That makes it even better."
"Yeah, I'm like his little sister to him," she muttered. "Just forget it. It's just a crush, that's all. Just like before I met him." She put on a neutral face, and Fifi turned back to her dishes.
But inside, Bright Eyes knew that it wasn't the same as before. She knew him now, and she ached to have him love her as much as she loved him. No. It'll never work, she thought fiercely. Forget him. He's too old to fall in love with a kid like you.
The house plans were going well. Mother Nature seemed to have given Skippity Doo a grace period to finish the house before winter, and he fought to get it done. He hired a whole troop of workers for a horrendously large amount of money to meet his demands. He hadn't been kidding when he said that the sky was the limit on his funds. Anything the girls asked for, he bought. They came down to a sprawling house with a guest cottage, an indoor/outdoor swimming pool, a long winding garden complete with roses, a gazebo, and fruit trees, as well as a tennis court. The plot of land he had purchased to build it on was a bit out of the way of the school and the Perm Shoppe, but it was on the bus line.
The house was, of course, furnished with matching tailored furniture. Skydancer's was the yellow room, with a huge canopy bed and a window seat for reading and writing in. Fifi and Bright Eyes chose pink for their room.
The kitchen was tremendous, and was supplied with all the newest appliances, even a seafood tank! He had hired a chef to do the cooking, in addition to other tasks, but Bright Eyes made it clear that she would be in the kitchen as much as the chef was. The study was actually to be a combination of rooms, including a den, a practice room, and a formal parlor. There was a fireplace, a "comfy chair" for reading and listening to music on the huge stereo, and a desk for writing and composing at. He even had a small reel-to-reel installed above the desk for recording purposes. They all agreed that the estate, which they dubbed "Paradise," would be the ideal place for anyone to live.
Soon, the house was finished -- and just in time! Snow and ice had already begun to blanket the surrounding area in white sheets. They moved in quickly and without ceremony, for Christmas vacation had begun. Soon the musicians were going to put on the winter festival show. Skydancer and the other singers were nearly ready. They planned rehearsal sessions for seven hours for each of the nine days they had left.
"This place is incredible!" Skydancer marveled as she strode up the walkway of Paradise Estate. "I can't believe I'm actually going to live here."
"Hey, give it a few months," Skippity Doo replied, "It'll feel like home. What do you think, Fifi?"
She smiled, absorbing the beautiful scenery and gardens. "I love it," she assured him. "It IS incredible. I've never seen a more perfect place to live."
"Let's go check out the gardens, shall we?" He took her by the hand and they ran inside, leaving Bright Eyes staring wistfully after them.
"Skydancer?"
"Hmm?"
"Has Skippity Doo mentioned anything about me to you?"
Skydancer glanced from the house plans over to her friend. "Not recently. Why?"
"Well, it just seems like he's... well, ignoring me lately. He used to call me up on the phone to talk about things, and go out to lunch with me, and now... I think he'd rather be with Fifi instead."
"Bright Eyes, Skippity Doo is twenty-seven, and Fifi is four years older than you. It doesn't strike me as odd that he'd want to spend time with a woman closer to his age, sometimes. Of course, I could be wrong."
"That makes sense. Thanks." Bright Eyes' heart sank. Skydancer had confirmed her worst fears: Skippity Doo thought she was a child. But what about that night at Coasters? she thought. That hug he gave me wasn't at all like a hug you'd give a child. She shook her head. I don't understand him. But I still love him.
***
They finished moving all of the boxes in that night. Bright Eyes worked quickly; partly to get the job done, but mostly to keep her mind off Skippity Doo.
"Isn't this new room great?" Fifi raved to Bright Eyes while putting up their bookshelves.
"Yeah, it's real great," Bright Eyes replied tiredly.
Fifi looked at her carefully. "Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm fine!" she snapped, her eyes glinting. "Just because I don't want to talk doesn't mean I'm sick!"
"Okay, okay! Calm down! It's just that you've been acting really touchy lately. I'll go downstairs so you can have some privacy." She closed the door quietly after her.
Tears began to trickle slowly down Bright Eyes's face. She looked out the window for a while, then tiptoed downstairs. She caught Skippity Doo's laugh mingled with Fifi's coming from the study. Quietly opening the door, she peeked in. Skippity Doo had his old acoustic guitar on his lap, and was singing a new, upbeat song to Fifi:
"One night, the stars were glowing,
Two hearts were overflowing,
Three words hit like a bolt from above!
Four arms, we're hugging tightly,
Five times, I kissed you lightly,
So goes the mathematics of love!
One, two, three, four-ever!
I'll keep on counting the ways,
One thousand nights I'll hold you
And love you all of my days...
One night, the moon was shining,
Two hearts were intertwining
So goes the mathematics of love!
Seven, eight, nine, ten-derly,
I'll hold the memory of
The one night two hearts pondered
The mathematics of love!"
Bright Eyes crept up the stairs in total silence. It wasn't until she was safely upstairs in her room that she burst into tears.
***
Skippity Doo put down his guitar. "So, do you like it?"
"Oh, yes!" Fifi exclaimed. "It's great. I'm sure it'll be a big hit."
"I did the music," Skydancer said, stepping into the room. "Our second song! Of course, this one went a lot quicker because it's so silly and easy compared to our other song."
"What's it called?" Fifi asked. "The other song, I mean."
"We can't tell you," whispered Skippity Doo. "It's a secret. But you'll find out on the 23rd, just like everyone else!"
Skydancer picked up her purse from the chair. "I'm going out for a while. See you guys later."
"I'm going to check on Bright Eyes. I think she was feeling a little tired," Fifi called, trotting up the stairs. Skydancer started to depart, but Skippity Doo grabbed her arm.
"Wait. I have something to say to you."
"Yes?"
"Well... I was wondering... do you remember what you said when I suggested we live together?"
"I said a lot of things. What are you referring to?"
"The remark about telling you something... or asking you something."
She thought, then nodded slowly.
"I'm asking you now. Do you think we could ... go out some time? I don't mean anything serious," he said quickly when her eyes flew open in surprise. "Just dinner, maybe a movie?"
Skydancer looked at him, a sad smile on her face. "No, Skippity Doo, I don't think so."
His own smile faded. "Why? Don't you like me? I thought you said we were friends."
"Yes," she agreed, "we are. But it can never be more than that. I'm not the one for you. I know it... and I think you do too." She opened the door. "I'm sorry," she added, then left.
He stood there, looking at the door. Suddenly he laughed, a wry, cheerless laugh. He shut the door to his study and returned to his guitar. He practiced the instrumental part of their song until his muscles grew sore, then he kept practicing. He refused to come out for dinner. Seven o'clock passed, then eight, then ten, but still he played.
As the clock chimed eleven, he heard a tap on the door. "Come in," he called without pause. The door opened and Fifi stepped in.
"Hi," she said softly, closing the door behind her. "There's something that's been bothering me. Do you mind if we talk?" He shrugged, so she sat down in front of him.
"It's Bright Eyes," she began. "I've noticed that lately she's been acting really pensive and sulky. She's ignoring everyone. Then today, when I asked her what was wrong, she jumped all over me and refused to say a word." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Did you guys have a fight?"
"What would we have to fight about?" he replied calmly. "Like you said, she's ignoring everyone, including me."
"Aren't you two really close? Like, I thought you were going out or something."
"Us?" His face remained the same, but he tripped over the chords on his guitar a bit. "Nah. She's got... better things to do than go out with me."
"What makes you say that?"
"Look," he said harshly, "I'm a teen idol. Girls worship me. But I'm not the relationship type. It'd never last a week. I'm someone girls can focus their daydreams on, and that's it. So forget it."
"But Bright Eyes isn't a girl. She's a woman, with emotions and desires. I'm not blind to your feelings, Skippity Doo, or hers. But I get the feeling that you are." She stood up and walked out.
He faltered, then the guitar slipped from his grasp and fell unnoticed to the floor. His cheeks grew wet with tears.
Fifi and Skydancer, could they be right? he thought. Oh, man, can't you get anything right? Even... love?
He wiped away his tears and searched through a pile of papers on his table. He pulled out his notebook and flipped pages until he found the words to their collaboration. They were fine, but did they really reflect all he felt about her?
He turned the page and began to write.
CHAPTER TEN
The phone rang. Skydancer groaned and rolled over in her soft bed. She squinted at the clock: seven-thirty A.M. The phone insistently rang again. She fumbled for the receiver, found it, and said a garbled "hello" into the mouthpiece.
"Hey, are you awake?"
"Cherries Jubilee!" she groaned. "If you ever call me this early again I'll stuff your tie in your ear and pull it out the other side!"
"No violence, please. I just wanted to remind you that we have a rehearsal this morning at eight -- so you'd better get up if you're going to get here on time."
"Oh, man -- why didn't Skip remind me? Thanks, Cherries." Instantly awake, she slammed the receiver back down and jumped out of bed. Finding a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt on the floor, she slipped them on and flew down the stairs.
She dashed into the kitchen and grabbed her guitar case, and was about to run right back out when she noticed the stack of papers on the table. She glanced at the clock: seven forty-four. She'd have time to sort them out before practice, but it would have to be quick.
Dropping the case onto a chair, she bit into a plum and sat down, leafing through the papers. They were in Skippity Doo's wild, scrawling script. Mostly bills, phone messages, and fan mail. Then she came across his notebook, open to an odd page. This one was much more carefully written than the others, yet it was still Skip's handwriting. Not an ink blot or a scribbled word... she touched four wet circles at the base of the page. Could they be plum stains? Or... tears?
It was a poem, or lyrics to a song. She began to read, her interest growing with each word she read:
To love a singer boy like me,
Within my eyes what do you see?
If you told me love, I'd say it wasn't true,
It's just another dream, it's never what it seems
To foolish girls like you.
She paused, grinning at the lyrics. About Bright Eyes, no doubt, she thought. She seemed to be all he thought about lately. How true it was, yet ambiguous too. Is she foolish to love him in particular, or to love rock stars in general? Most likely the latter, since many ponies loved him. Though he really hasn't seemed very confident around women lately, not like his usual arrogant self at all. She finished her plum and read on.
Listen to my songs,
And not the things my eyes might say,
My silver tunes will lead the way,
I'll be all that you need, and keep you safe from harm,
So come let's run away, you'll find a better day
Within my patient arms.
Skydancer stared at the page. Something didn't make sense. He just said he didn't love her, yet here he wrote that he wanted to run away with her and keep her in his arms. She shivered. She suddenly felt like she was invading his private thoughts, his very soul.
Her hooves were compelled to hold onto the page, and she found herself reading more...
Strings of silvered steel that flutter like my silver heart,
Though flesh and steel must one day part,
I'll never leave you cold, I promise that is true,
You'll need me for some time, how could I leave behind
A foolish girl like you?
Though strings of silvered steel, I know I'll always feel,
My foolish girl, for you.
-SD, 1988
She finished the last few lines and dropped the paper onto the table. She traced the four teardrops musingly. Then she leapt up, took her guitar, and headed for the door.
Halfway there, she stopped, retraced her steps back to the table, tucked the lyrics into her jacket pocket, and left.
***
"So there they are," Skydancer sighed, gesturing at the lyrics on the table. "They don't make sense, but they certainly mean something to him. Just look at those teardrops! This is his whole heart and soul."
"Well, you know," mused Cherries Jubilee, "I don't think he intended for anyone to read it. Maybe we should put it back. No matter how good it's written, I don't think he'd sing it. Just put it back and drop the matter altogether."
Heart Throb bounced up from her seat. "I disagree! This is a superb effort, and a genuine work of art." There were nods all around. "If someone doesn't sing this, it would be... well, sacrilege! Songs are meant to be sung, and what is a poem but words waiting to be set to a tune. I say we convince Skippity Doo to sing this at the concert."
"But how do we know that he won't be upset at us for looking at his work? This is a private song," Cherries Jubilee argued.
Skydancer shook her head slowly. "No," she said, "We at Paradise Estate look over his shoulder and give advice while he's working on new lyrics all the time. No, he wouldn't be angry at us for reading it. But he still wouldn't sing it."
"Why?" asked Lofty. "It's so beautiful, and sensuous."
"That's just it."
"Huh?"
"Well, look at it like this," Skydancer began. "Skip's a very successful guy. He's thought to be such a prize, a goal for every screaming fan to set her sights on. The truth is, although he's loved lots of women, he's never really been IN love. Until he met Bright Eyes. And now he's scared to admit his own feelings to himself."
"You mean, he's in love with Bright Eyes?" puzzled Cherries Jubilee. "I knew heliked her and all, but love? Are you sure?"
"I suspected it for a while, and this song proves it. He's admitting he loves her and denying its appropriateness at the same time. He's just afraid to come to the conclusion that maybe his young innocent fan isn't really all that young, or innocent." She sighed. "And believe me, it's the hardest conclusion I ever came to. I'm afraid of Bright Eyes getting hurt. She's the closest friend I'll ever have."
"And why would Bright Eyes get hurt?" persisted Heart Throb. "I thought that she'd always loved him."
"At least she thought she did," continued Lofty. "Could it be that all she really felt for him was infatuation?"
"That's my fear," Skydancer nodded. "If she finds out he loves her, maybe she'll realize she never did love him. That could shatter Skippity Doo. He would be traumatized!" A tear rolled down her face. "What a mess!"
"Well," Cherries said as he tried to change the subject, "what do we do with the poem, guys?"
"I have an idea." Skydancer wiped away her tears and moved over to the piano. "If he won't sing it, then someone else should! As I was reading it, I thought of a tune. Listen..." she played a short, poignant melody and said some of the words over it. "'Foolish little girl...' here's some bass, maybe electric... lots of vibrato... 'within my eyes...' an electric guitar solo here... what do you think?"
"It's great," Heart Throb said, "but who will sing it? With that music, the only one who would be in the correct range to sing it would be you!"
Skydancer grinned slyly at her. "Well," she said, "that's kind of what I had in mind. Now listen."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The day of the big concert crept up on the MLPU campus, it seemed, overnight. The music hall was plastered with posters and advertisements for all of the dramatic events going on there. And of course, inside the hall, all of the stars were frantically running around, getting ready for the big moment.
"Skydancer!" wailed Heart Throb. "Have you seen my veil? I left it around here somewhere, I just know it!"
"You're wearing it," she said, grinning as she quickly adjusted the front of her silver evening gown. "Now go backstage! Your number is in just a few minutes!" Heart Throb rustled off, her own dress shimmering with iridescent colors.
"I swear," she exclaimed to Lofty, who was stuffing her feet into her knee-high black suede boots, "I've never seen everyone so uppity! Not even on a national tour! What's with everyone?"
"I don't know," replied Lofty, "but I've got it too! Let's go!" They hurried out to the wings, just in time to hear Heart Throb finish "Love Don't Fail Me Now" on a thrilling high A. The enormous crowd in front of the stage was going wild! Skydancer suddenly felt her knees begin to give way -- then a steadying hand grasped her shoulder. She turned to see Skippity Doo standing there, looking incredibly sexy in his silver and gold jumpsuit, smiling at her.
"Now don't collapse," he teased. "Wait until after the concert. Oops, you're on next."
"Good luck!" called Lofty, waving her out. She winked at Skydancer behind Skippity Doo's back. Skydancer winked back. "Operation Bright Eyes" was underway!
A polite round of clapping greeted her as she walked confidently out onto the stage. Bright Eyes and Fifi, who were sitting in the front row (tickets compliments of their two housemates), cheered and whistled. She waved at them.
"Hey, Ponyland!" she yelled into the microphone.
"HI!" the crowd screamed back.
"How's everyone doing tonight?" A loud cheer met her ears. "What? I can't hear you!" They responded with a louder cheer. "That's better. OK, folks, this next song is dedicated to two very important people in my life. They're both here tonight, and I think they know who they are." She signaled to Cherries J, who struck the opening chords on his keyboard.
She began to sing, releasing every bit of emotion and pain she could muster through the tender words of "Silver." She caught Bright Eyes' face only once during the song. She looked bewildered, and her cheeks were wet.
When she was done, she stepped quietly away from the microphone. There was silence. Then, the roof shook with thunderous applause. She smiled, and waved her hooves for quiet. "Wait," she said over the clapping, "wait, I have to give credit to the other artist who created this work. Skippity Doo, come out here!" She grinned at his astounded face and dragged him through the wings into the lights of the stage. "This is the lyricist of "Silver." Tell HIM how much you like it!"
She stood back as the applause began again, this time with Skip's face in the spotlight. He accepted the cheers gracefully, then walked quickly off the stage, Skydancer in hot pursuit. Once out of the eyes of the audience, however, his mobile face turned stormy.
"Where in hell did you get ahold of that song?" he shouted, not breaking stride. "Those were my private thoughts! I would have let you know if I wanted them to be broadcast to the world, thank you very much!"
"They were words that needed saying," she retorted. "Skippity Doo, you can't keep running from the truth; you just have to face it! Can't you understand that?"
"That is not the point!"
"Then what IS the point, why don't you tell me that, huh? You don't have to pretend any more. I know how you feel for her, and frankly, I think that lately you've been treating her like crap. Have you ever told her how you really feel?"
"Why can't you just leave me alone?" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her.
"Why can't YOU see what's really going on here?" she shouted back, tearing away from his hold. "You're not the only one in this world with feelings, you know, and now, because of your incompetence, you have one very delicate young woman's heart in your hand and you don't have the guts to let her know that you love her as much as she loves you?! Well, let me tell you this, mister. I don't want to see your sniveling little coward's face until you face up to Bright Eyes and bare your soul to her until you bleed!!" She whirled into the dressing room and slammed the door.
He fell onto the door, pounding and yelling, "Skydancer! Skydancer!!!" But after a few seconds, his voice broke, and he leaned against the wall, sobbing.
Then he felt a tap on the shoulder. Through a teary haze, he saw it was Lofty. "Skippity Doo?" she said hesitantly. "You have to go on now."
He stood up, wiping his eyes and adjusting his sunglasses carefully. "The show must go on, right?" he said weakly.
He started to walk out, but Lofty grabbed his arm. "Break a leg," she whispered.
He looked at her worried face soberly. "Thanks." Then he was carried out on the waves of applause from the audience. He waved to them halfheartedly.
"This next song was also written by both Skydancer and myself. It's dedicated to a... very special woman in the audience. I just hope she knows just how special she is to me." He retrieved his guitar from Cherries J. and strummed a few chords. "Right... OK." The music began softly, almost imperceptibly. Then he began to sing, with a tone sweeter than anything in the world.
There's a fog along the horizon,
A strange glow in the sky,
And nobody seems to know where you go,
And what does it mean?
Oh, is it a dream?
Bright eyes, burning like fire.
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes.
He looked into her dark, trembling face, and struggled to go on. She looked back at him, bravely trying not to break down. He was doing the same.
Bright eyes, burning like fire.
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes...
He gently set the guitar on the stage and walked off amidst the tumultuous applause that followed. Bright Eyes jumped up and fought through the clapping crowd, eyes flashing, to the exit. She crashed through, breathing in huge gulps of the night air, trying to clear her mind and body of the wild feelings coursing through her. Then, ignoring the thickly falling snow, she began to run home.
Later, at Paradise Estate, Skippity Doo stood outside the door to Fifi and Bright Eyes's bedroom. He raised his hand to knock, then let it fall. He repeated this about six times before forcing his fist against the door. But the one who opened the door turned out to be Fifi.
"She's at the pool," she told him without waiting for the question, and watched as he dashed off without another word.
***
The water was cool against her body as she swiftly skimmed along the lap lane. Not only did it give her something to do, it also kept her eyes away from flammable material, for Bright Eyes' emotions had never been so strong before. She couldn't help replaying the two songs in her mind... and the look that he'd given her during the second. Could it be that she had interpreted his emotions incorrectly before? Could he really... love her?
She jerked round to face the door as it slammed shut. There he was, in a flannel robe, still wearing those inpenetrable mirrored sunglasses. He walked slowly, almost hesitantly over to the lawn chairs on the deck and sat down.
Bright Eyes swam over to the ladder and hoisted herself up, just looking at him.
"I... wanted to tell you something," he began quietly. "I know I haven't been forthcoming these past few weeks. The reason is that I've been afraid to talk to you." He took a deep breath, then continued.
"I don't quite recognize what I feel every time I'm near you, but I know that it makes me want to be with you more and more. Look," he continued, his voice breaking, "I'm no good at this sort of thing. I just want to say that I'm not a very open kind of guy. My music is the only way I know how to express myself. Off stage, I've always kept everything locked up, shielded from the world.
"But not anymore."
Bright Eyes heard the shattering of glass, and she looked up -- into his wide, moist, sea-green eyes. The broken sunglasses fell to the deck, unnoticed.
"You make me want to reveal everything to you, Bright Eyes," he said, tears coursing down his face. "And I've missed you so much, I... I..." his voice cracked and he stopped, still looking into her eyes.
She took a shuddery breath and opened her arms.
He nearly fell into them, both of them crying. They embraced passionately, electrifying their senses, as they slowly melted back into the water, into a soft, yielding atmosphere that flowed between and around them. Bright Eyes felt no fear or apprehension, for she knew that this was what she wanted, what she had always wanted -- knowing that their love for each other would always be as firey as the sparks from Bright Eyes's eyes.
