Twilight slinks through the opened door and sidles along a back wall, circling towards backstage. She did, in fact, manage to get a scant few hours of sleep. But that doesn't help her much to keep her eyes open, standing in the spotlight glare of everypony in the ballroom. Most ponies are turned away, towards the stage. But even they are staring, in a way; Twilight's shame lies before her; Celestia only knows how many ponies are thinking of her incident right at this second. She sends Spike to the desert table, then semicircumnavigates the room, stalking like a killer.

Nopony is on stage yet, which is permissible, as sunrise is twenty minutes from now. Twilight's here to check in with everypony she met today and ensure there are no last-minute complications. Really, she should have been here at least an hour ago, but she was someplace very far away instead. She starts scouting the crowd for relevant ponies.

Rainbow Dash is ambling through the air, engaging ponies with animated gestures and speech, sometimes cackling so hard she rolls onto her back. But her wings are never amused, and continue their work in austerity. The night sky outside is as clear and sharp as a cut diamond, so Rainbow Dash can have her fun.

The hall is decorated exactly as it had been earlier in the day, with the exception that there are, in fact, burnt yellow ribbons around the drawn stage curtains. Twilight can't spot Rarity among the guests, but there's nowhere else in town she would be. After a minute or two of wandering, she catches a glimpse of a white pony in a preposterously extravagant dress, and is satisfied. There's hardly any way that the decorations can suddenly run afoul, but Rarity is present, just in case.

The apple-flavored maze of confections is arranged on white-clothed tables following the sides of the hall, a meter or two off the wall. The desserts have proven wildly more popular than Twilight expected, but some ponies are just good at being wrong. Applejack and a large, red, apple-marked stallion are talking to Derpy, Applejack with a fairly stern look, and Twilight wonders how many apple muffins Derpy has devoured already. She sits down on the steps of the stage. The motion seems to catch Applejack's attention, and she glances in Twilight's direction, but quickly looks away. Or maybe not. It doesn't matter, Twilight. Ponies all around the room are sitting at tables cutting into apple pancakes, or absentmindedly levitating apple fritters into their mouths, or just browsing the selection with grins, like Spike. The catering is fine; it doesn't matter what Applejack is thinking.

Tinder's hoofwork is arranged neatly on every table, on every wall sconce, and in several instances hanging from the ceiling in golden chandeliers. The tables nearest the stage frame candles of midday-sun yellow, while those nearest the exit have faded into deep, flushed red. Tinder himself is nowhere to be found, but not for want of lighting, as the hall has an ambient, warm glow perfectly reminiscent of morning. These candles will all be extinguished after the Princess's speech so that the sun can crest from the darkness, but for now, the suffusion is providing a backdrop for almost everypony's good spirits.

All that's left is to check on Fluttershy's choir, and then wait for the Princess's arrival, which marks the festival's beginning. Twilight dismisses her mental checklist and trots backstage. That's where she finds Tinder, as well, chatting with Fluttershy in front of a metal choir stand. When she walks up, and they see her, there's something inexplicable cast in Fluttershy's eyes, but Tinder's are filled with warmth.

"Um, hi, girls," Twilight greets the two of them. "The candles all look wonderful, Tinder."

"Hey, Twilight! Thank you, I'm very happy with them! And I'm so glad you seem to be feeling better," he smiles.

"Hi, Twilight," squeaks Fluttershy.

"Thanks, Tinder. I'm sorry you two had to see... what happened. But I'm feeling a lot better after some rest. I just... don't take well to crowds, at least not without some warning." Do anything enough, and you'll pick up some skill; damage control is no exception.

Tinder holds out an open hoof. "It's no problem! Now we know that you aren't the type for surprise parties, that's all."

Fluttershy's eyes are on Twilight, but she's sporting a smile that strikes Twilight as... off, somehow. Twilight realizes she's simply not equipped to figure out how. Fluttershy says, "We'll make sure not to startle you in the future."

Show her you remember her name, thinks Twilight, in a burst of inspiration. "...Thanks, girls. So, Fluttershy, I'm here to ask about the choir..." That something in her eyes softens by a fraction, but Twilight doesn't see.

"Oh, I see! It's going well. Everything is back on track for the Celebration! Rehearsal finished fine, thanks to your help," says Fluttershy.

At least you can solve the problems you create for yourself, Twilight. "No problem, Fluttershy. It was just my duty."

She smiles at Twilight for an extra beat, waiting. Once she realizes Twilight considers the serve returned, she says, "Well, thanks nonetheless. Would you like to stay and chat to pass the time?"

"That's okay," says Twilight. "I need to make sure the rest of the preparations are coming along." All zero of them.

"Are you sure?" asks Tinder. "You've been running around all day. You worked so hard that I'm sure everything will go fine. Couldn't you just put your hooves up and relax until the Princess gets here?"

"I, uh... yeah, I'm sure. I'll be able to relax in due time, but I can't just write off the rest of my responsibilities. Sorry."

"Okay, Twilight," says Tinder, ears lowered. "We'll be backstage if you need us. Good luck! I'll catch up with you after the ceremony! I'll introduce you to my special somepony," he smiles as his ears perk back up.

"...Okay," she says, as she must. "Later, girls."

Twilight trots out from backstage and sits back down on the steps. Really, there's nothing left to do; she's not sure why she said otherwise. She puts her head into her hoof, trying to explain, but thinking nothing. Some things just happen. However, it's close enough to the appointed time that her movement near the stage prompts some crowd attention, and in a second or two, she sees a cotton-candy-pink pony bouncing toward her.

No. No, no. But the mare takes no heed to her mental protest. Impossibly quickly, she's at the foot of the stairs, hopping up, sitting next to Twilight, staring at her with ice-blue eyes.

"Hi, Twilight! I don't think you remember meeting me, so I'll just tell you what I told you the first time! I'm Pinkie Pie! When I saw you walk into town and I didn't know who you were I knew you must be new, because I know everypony and I mean everypony in Ponyville! And since you're new you must not know anypony! And if you don't know anypony that means you must not have any friends—"

"Stop!" Twilight screams. "I'm not lonely just because I'm new! I'm just a lonely pony!" Her vision is losing definition. "It's not your fault and it's not your responsibility to fix! Some ponies just don't get to have friends, it just doesn't work, they're too bucked up! It's my fault! How could it possibly be anypony else's?!"

The fuchsia pony's ears are suddenly trying to sink into her hooves. Twilight thinks she spots trickle of tears begin to form, but she can't be sure; they're so far away.

"I'm sorry, Twilight. I didn't know you were... like you are, okay? Most ponies love surprise parties, but I just didn't think about whether everypony did. But I think you're wrong!" Her smile cracks back into existence in an instant. "Everypony deserves a friend, no matter who she is, and I just know your life would be better with some. You don't have to befriend everypony in town at once, is all. We can start one at a time! I'll be your first, you don't even have to be my friend back! I know you're shy, but it's okay! Just don't think such negative thoughts and everything will work out!"

Without even waiting a beat, she extends a hoof for a hug, but Twilight flinches away, somehow now standing up and taking steps backwards. "I'm not just shy! I have real problems that can't be fixed by happy thoughts and hugging things out! I don't get to just buck up and bootstrap myself into a normal pony brain! I'm not just shy, I'm not just rusty, I'm not just inexperienced, I have diagnosed mental dis—"

She realizes she's yelling and crying onstage in front of a crowd, and slumps down onto her rump, eyes wide. She's too afraid to glance to the side to count the ponies listening. She sees the twinge of magenta clouding the upper fringes of her visual field, and finds she's charging a teleport. But the festival starts in a few minutes—but she's growing so cold—but Celestia is moments away, probably poised magnificently in her golden chariot, maybe thinking of Twilight at this very second—

"...Okay," says Pinkie Pie. "I'm sorry." Then she leaves. Just... walks away. It's the first time Twilight's seen her in any gait except a bounce.

Twilight's horn discharges in a fizzle. She stands up, and walks down the stage steps, eyes straight forward like the rest of the room is the sun, too bright, too hot. She finds Spike still at the catering table, having moved on from desserts to the pancakes. It doesn't seem like he heard; he's enthralled. She starts to say something, but stops herself. Let him eat cake, and enjoy the night. Sometimes she counts her blessings on her hooves: One, two. It'll do.

Twilight eventually claims a space on the edge of the crowd after she retrieves Spike, who is stuffing the last of the fritters into his maw. All the ponies she's met are interspersed in the crowd, eyes on the stage. She notices the lanky Tinder Heart resting his head on the shoulder of the oversized red Apple stallion who was managing the catering with Applejack, and feels a tiny tremor.

When the time comes, she sees a dingy gray earth stallion with an hourglass cutie mark exchange some words with a lighter brown earth mare. Her wispy gray hair bobs as she makes her way to the downstage podium.

"Hello, fillies and gentlecolts," she says, projecting clearly. "For those of you coming from out of town, I am the mayor of Ponyville. My name is Laissez-Mare. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for attending this year's Summer Sun Celebration in our humble town. Without further ado, it is my greatest pleasure to announce Her Eternal Radiance Princess Celestia." Twilight breathes out the gray shadows of the day. Regardless of the fumbling details of the day, she ensured the festival would be executed perfectly.

After the mayor walks backstage, the second layer of curtains opens.

Celestia is not behind the curtains.

Twilight's heart skips a beat or three.

Celestia does not appear on the stage. Somepony else does: A black mare in dusk-blue armor snaps into existence via a midnight haze of sparkles and stars. Her scintillating lavender cloud of a mane billows behind her, despite the perfectly still air of the auditorium, and it's like looking through an open window into the silent night sky. She stands as tall and as proud as Princess Celestia, and knows who she is, where she stands, what she wants. Twilight gazes upon her horn, easily twice as long as her own, and it fills her with a terror she's never known. Princess Luna has returned.