Description:
Rome Pomme couldn’t take much more of this girly stuff. The day she had dreaded most, the Fillies and Tiaras pageant, had arrived, and so far it was turning out to be a terrible day. It was all she could do to hold herself together, to smile and look pretty for her mother and the judges. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it.
Why? Because Rome realized that deep down, she—no, he was really a boy. It was no wonder he didn’t like dresses or any of that girly stuff; he wasn’t a girl at all. But his mother was adamant that all he needed was to get in touch with his feminine side. Would she even listen if he told her otherwise? At the very least, that was a conversation best left for after the pageant.
He stood backstage, pulling himself together for the next leg of the pageant: the talent show. This is the last part, he assured himself. I’ll do what Mom said, but then I’ll lose and it’ll be over. It’ll all go back to normal.
“And now for the first performance of the talent show: give it up for Appletini’s rendition of ‘Diamonds Are A Filly’s Best Friend’!”
It was all Rome could do not to cringe at his old name as he forced himself out from behind the curtain with the winning smile his mother told him to wear. He sat down at the girly little kiddie piano, feeling the audience’s eyes on him as he began to play.
“T-The Prench are glad to die for love
They delight in fighting duels
But I prefer a…colt who lives
And gives expensive jewels
A kiss on the hoof
May be quite continental
But d-diamonds are a…filly’s best friend…”
He stumbled through the performance, cringing with each girly phrase he had to belt out. This wasn’t who he was, it would never be. It killed him to have to act like it was, especially in front of so many ponies. He didn’t even care that he was stammering through it. Anything to get it over with.
And he did. Finally, he had sung the last words and played the last chords and it was another thing behind him. He didn’t even stop to face the cheering audience, instead rushing backstage with only one thing on his mind.
Why me?
*
At this point, Rome was on the verge of a panic attack. The dresses, makeup, and air of femininity surrounding him made him feel sicker with every second. Even worse, his whole family was just beyond the curtain, proud of their little “filly.” Proud of the lie he was living. What he wouldn’t give to rip off that dress and run far, far away…
As the host started talking, a mare ushered the fillies out on stage to hear the winner get announced. Rome plastered on a fake grin once again. Just a few more minutes.
“And the winner is…”
Rome tuned him out, relieved that he’d lose and get it over with.
“Appletini!”
What!?
Rome felt his heart drop as a sash was draped over him and he was instantly rushed to the front. How? How did he win? He wasn’t even trying! He…he didn’t even want this! He couldn’t even think as a trophy was thrust into his arms and ponies threw roses at him.
“Appletini!” The host grinned. “Would you like to say a few words as the winner?”
“N—“ Rome wasn’t given a choice as a microphone was shoved into his hooves and the entire audience went quiet. He was nearly blinded by the lights, and he could feel everyone’s gaze boring down on him. Especially his mother’s.
“I…” He looked back at the disgruntled fillies behind him. “I don’t deserve this.”
The crowd gasped.
“I don’t. I-I don’t even want it,” he continued. “All these fillies, they can dress up and sing and dance and…be perfect girls. A-and I can’t!”
A confused murmur spread through the crowd.
“This isn’t who I am! I HATE dressin’ up! I didn’t even wanna be in this pageant! But I had to, ‘cause it was like there was somethin’ wrong with me and I had to be reminded I’m a girl! But I’m NOT a girl!” He looked out into the crowd, focusing on his mother’s shocked face. “I’m a BOY! I’m a BOY! I’m a BOY!”
Rome couldn’t hold his tears back any longer, screaming “I’m a BOY!” over and over until he ripped his dress apart and ran off the stage sobbing. This really did turn out to be the worst day of his life.
Why? Because Rome realized that deep down, she—no, he was really a boy. It was no wonder he didn’t like dresses or any of that girly stuff; he wasn’t a girl at all. But his mother was adamant that all he needed was to get in touch with his feminine side. Would she even listen if he told her otherwise? At the very least, that was a conversation best left for after the pageant.
He stood backstage, pulling himself together for the next leg of the pageant: the talent show. This is the last part, he assured himself. I’ll do what Mom said, but then I’ll lose and it’ll be over. It’ll all go back to normal.
“And now for the first performance of the talent show: give it up for Appletini’s rendition of ‘Diamonds Are A Filly’s Best Friend’!”
It was all Rome could do not to cringe at his old name as he forced himself out from behind the curtain with the winning smile his mother told him to wear. He sat down at the girly little kiddie piano, feeling the audience’s eyes on him as he began to play.
“T-The Prench are glad to die for love
They delight in fighting duels
But I prefer a…colt who lives
And gives expensive jewels
A kiss on the hoof
May be quite continental
But d-diamonds are a…filly’s best friend…”
He stumbled through the performance, cringing with each girly phrase he had to belt out. This wasn’t who he was, it would never be. It killed him to have to act like it was, especially in front of so many ponies. He didn’t even care that he was stammering through it. Anything to get it over with.
And he did. Finally, he had sung the last words and played the last chords and it was another thing behind him. He didn’t even stop to face the cheering audience, instead rushing backstage with only one thing on his mind.
Why me?
*
At this point, Rome was on the verge of a panic attack. The dresses, makeup, and air of femininity surrounding him made him feel sicker with every second. Even worse, his whole family was just beyond the curtain, proud of their little “filly.” Proud of the lie he was living. What he wouldn’t give to rip off that dress and run far, far away…
As the host started talking, a mare ushered the fillies out on stage to hear the winner get announced. Rome plastered on a fake grin once again. Just a few more minutes.
“And the winner is…”
Rome tuned him out, relieved that he’d lose and get it over with.
“Appletini!”
What!?
Rome felt his heart drop as a sash was draped over him and he was instantly rushed to the front. How? How did he win? He wasn’t even trying! He…he didn’t even want this! He couldn’t even think as a trophy was thrust into his arms and ponies threw roses at him.
“Appletini!” The host grinned. “Would you like to say a few words as the winner?”
“N—“ Rome wasn’t given a choice as a microphone was shoved into his hooves and the entire audience went quiet. He was nearly blinded by the lights, and he could feel everyone’s gaze boring down on him. Especially his mother’s.
“I…” He looked back at the disgruntled fillies behind him. “I don’t deserve this.”
The crowd gasped.
“I don’t. I-I don’t even want it,” he continued. “All these fillies, they can dress up and sing and dance and…be perfect girls. A-and I can’t!”
A confused murmur spread through the crowd.
“This isn’t who I am! I HATE dressin’ up! I didn’t even wanna be in this pageant! But I had to, ‘cause it was like there was somethin’ wrong with me and I had to be reminded I’m a girl! But I’m NOT a girl!” He looked out into the crowd, focusing on his mother’s shocked face. “I’m a BOY! I’m a BOY! I’m a BOY!”
Rome couldn’t hold his tears back any longer, screaming “I’m a BOY!” over and over until he ripped his dress apart and ran off the stage sobbing. This really did turn out to be the worst day of his life.
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