Chapter 3: Reunion at the Bar
Thunderlane stood alone in the rank bathroom, the smell of hard cider, vomit and Celestia-knows-what lingering all around him as he stared into the cracked mirror. The green walls and sticky floors only added to the repugnant nature of the room. The lighting was rather dim, though bright enough to allow the stallion to gaze upon his reflection.
A bruise he had gotten the night before stood out profoundly. Even his black fur was not enough to hide its lumpy texture and deep purple tinge. He pressed both of his hooves into the sticky countertop and leaned towards the mirror to get a better view of his face.
Heavy bags sagged beneath his eyes like drapes. Ugly cuts and bruises peeked out from behind his dark fur. He looked like a complete mess.
His mind drifted back to the numerous times that his father had pounded on the door late at night to be let in. He wished that he could leave him outside so he wouldn’t have to put up with the painful struggle, but he never did. His nagging conscience wouldn’t let him.
Sighing, he stepped away from the mirror and left the bathroom to find himself back in the main area of The Stud Stool — one of Ponyville’s most popular bars. It was the primary place that Thunderlane and his friends would go to hang out at after work. Otherwise, nothing made it stand out from any other bar. The air was grey and smokey, giving the entire place a melancholy feel. Ponies of all walks of life sat at the spaced stools and tables drinking hard apple cider and smoking noxious pipes to their hearts’ content. Thunderlane could tell that most of the partons had just got off of work: the business ponies still had their ties on and the construction ponies were glistening in sweat. They all had the expressions of individuals trying to clear their heads after their daily agony. At least that’s the reason Thunderlane believed many ponies drank.
He envied them with every strand of fur on his body. No matter how many drinks he would manage to pound with his friends, it wouldn’t be enough. He would still feel stressed out because, unlike everypony else in the bar, his agony didn’t come during the day as he worked his job clearing the skies of Ponyville.
It greeted him at night.
He trotted over to the bar where his two friends were sitting: the brown earth pony named Caramel and the blue Wonderbolt pegasus named Soarin. Thunderlane let out a sigh, disappointed that more of their friends couldn’t join them.
Caramel looked plum tuckered out, a glass of soda placed in front of him. Thunderlane always thought it was strange how his earth pony friend never drank alcoholic beverages. He would vocalize his confusion through some playful mockery of his ‘nerdy pal’. But beside the drinking, it was still easy to find things to make fun of Caramel for. Out of all of Thunderlane’s friends, Caramel was by far the smallest and least testosterone-fueled. While they found recreation in working out and drinking, Caramel preferred writing and reading, and watching Coltipher Nolan movies (and, to his shame, others directed by Marechael Bray).
Thunderlane did credit him as being the most book-smart of his friends, though his street-smarts left much to be desired. He knew a great deal about Equestrian History, but when it came to knowledge of the real world, he was more gullible than a school-aged filly.
Sitting across from Caramel was the much more toned and ‘manly’ Soarin’, who sat listening to his tan friend speak while gingerly nursing his cider. He was almost the complete opposite of Caramel. A heart-throb and jockish, while not the most scholarly pony around.
He wasn’t dumb, but like Thunderlane he didn’t put too much emphasis on book smarts and focused all of his energy on what he felt was most important — pursuing the passion for flying he had since he was a young colt.
Thunderlane might have given Soarin’ some gentle ribbing — nothing out of the ordinary between two male friends — but he never did so in a patronizing manner like he did with Caramel. He admired his Wonderbolt friend too much, and not only because of his fame and insane flying ability, but also because of what he saw as a “grip on the outside world”, unlike the naive earth pony that was drinking soda in the bar.
Soarin’ was careful not to drink too much. He already told Thunderlane how he wanted to be in prime condition for the Wonderbolts show that he was going to be a part of the following day. Even as he ascended to fame, Soarin’ managed to stay humble and always made time for his friends when possible.
On a rare occasion, while hanging out, Thunderlane and Soarin’ would get stopped by a mob fans that recognized the sky blue pegasus from the Wonderbolts. Most times if he didn’t wear his spandex blue suit nopony would recognize him, which was why he was naked at the bar. He wanted to enjoy his time with his friends, and that meant he needed to be undercover so nopony would interrupt them. So now, the unsuspecting patrons and bartenders saw him as any other pegasus, and that’s how he liked it.
Soarin’ wasn’t much of a glory hound, and the less public attention that was drawn to him, the more comfortable he was. He even hated signing autographs. Not because his fans were annoying, he appreciated all of his fans, but because he would always get the worst hoof-cramps after.
Thunderlane was so caught up in his own thoughts that he nearly bumped into a waitress carrying drinks. He excused himself, asking if she was alright to which she said yes. He then continued over to where Caramel was busy talking with Soarin’.
“It’s nice to finally see you again,” Caramel said to Soarin’, “I’ve been waiting for a chance to hang out, but you’re always so busy with your Wonderbolts stuff.”
“Yeah, we have a lot of performances. And Spitfire works us to the bone at practice. It’s crazy.” Soarin’ sipped his cider.
“Oh Soarin’, I’m sure that Spitfire works you to your bone.” Thunderlane butted in, taking a seat besides Soarin’ with a snarky grin. “If ya know what I mean.”
“Can it, Thunderpants.” Soarin’ laughed. Thunderlane grimaced. That nickname had stuck with him since he was a colt. No matter how hard he tried, he could never evade it. It was just too easy of a mocking nickname not to call somepony. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean we spend all our time bucking.”
“It doesn’t?” Thunderlane asked with a ‘huh’ look on his face. He enjoyed teasing Soarin’, especially when it was also giving him praise for bagging such a sexy mare. Caramel even laughed a little at Thunderlane’s swipes at their Wonderbolt friend.
Soarin rolled his eyes. “Anyway...with all of the practicing and working at the Academy to bring up new recruits, we can hardly find time to catch up with old friends. And with the tour we’re on now, that time is even less. Luckily for me the show we’re putting on tomorrow is here in Ponyville so I can hang with you guys for a little bit. But after that we’re heading off to Fillydelphia to put on a show there, and then Las Pegasus, and so on.”
“Dang, that’s rough.” Thunderlane said.
“You can say that again. It’s like a never-ending train of exhaustion. I swear, once this tour is over I’m gonna sleep for a week straight.” Soarin’ shrugged. “But I guess I can’t complain. It isn’t easy being famous.” He raised his mug to take a sip of his cider.
“Easy there, let’s not get carried away. You aren’t that famous, buddy.” Thunderlane said teasingly.
Soarin’ nearly spit his drink from laughing. “Oh please, featherbrain. You wish that you had a sixtieth of the popularity that I do.”
“Nope. Believe it or not, I am perfectly content with the level of attention I get now.” Thunderlane said with steady conviction, though he knew it was a lie.
“So you don’t envy my life at all? My relationship with Spitfire? My massive salary? Ponies of all background cheering you on?” Soarin’s grin widened, clearly having fun acting the part of an arrogant celebrity.
“What, you mean all those ponies that recognize you because you fly around in a tight spandex suit? Chances are mares are more interested in your outlined flank than in your actual flying ability.” Thunderlane shot back.
“Fame is fame, buddy. I ain’t picky. And seeing as you just attended our academy, it seems you’re pretty eager to wear the spandex yourself.” Soarin’ took another swig of cider from his mug.
“Buck you, I’m there for my need for speed, not the tights or the shallow fame.” Thunderlane spat, drinking his cider. He lowered his mug and let out a sigh before turning to Caramel, who stared out at the bar, holding his glass of soda in his hooves. Thunderlane couldn’t help but snicker. “So, you enjoying your soda there, chief?”
Caramel sighed and turned to Thunderlane, giving him a small smile. It was an expectant smile, as if Caramel knew exactly the direction that the conversation was headed in.
“Yeah, it’s fantastic,” he cleared his throat, “so much better than cider.”
“Come on, Caramel. Why don’t you drink? One drink isn’t gonna kill you.” Soarin’ said.
“Yeah. Are you even a real stallion?”
Caramel closed his eyes and let out an irritated sigh, “Yes Thunder, I’m a real stallion.”
“Are you sure? Because sometimes I think if I look under your tale I wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from a mare’s.” Thunderlane laughed.
Caramel rolled his eyes and pressed his hoof to his forehead, “I just don’t want to drink, okay? Why is it so important to you? Does it impact your life in any way?”
“When you’re hanging out with us it does.” Thunderlane continued.
“How so?”
“Ponies see you not drinking and it makes us all look bad.”
“Care to elaborate, Mr. Mohawk?”
“Certainly. Now, look at the situation from the outside. It’s Friday afternoon, and you’re sitting in a bar after a day of hard work. The whole place is swimming with mares with flanks in all shapes and sizes, and you stay at this counter,” Thunderlane tapped the hard-wood surface to emphasize his point, “nursing your soda like a ten year old that’s out at dinner with his parents. You don’t think that seems the least bit strange?” Thunderlane said, shaking his head in disapproval. “Dude, you are never gonna get into a relationship if you don’t stop acting like a little foal.”
Caramel stared for a brief moment before a shimmer of confidence rippled across his face and he broke out into a euphoric grin. “That’s funny you say that Thunderlane, because I am actually in a relationship with somepony.”
Both Thunderlane and Soarin’, who had been drinking their cider, spat their drinks out in amber streams from shock, before turning to the earth pony, shouting a barrage of “what!?!” and “who!?!” at him. Soarin’s voice was full of excitement, clearly happy for his friend, while Thunderlane’s was filled with plain shock.
Caramel smiled, “Well if you two absolutely must know.” He took a gingerly sip of his soda, let out a sigh and turned to his friends, “For the past few weeks I have been dating Applejack.”
Soarin’ nodded, still in shock but he seemed to believe the notion. Thunderlane, however, stared slack-jawed at his friend as if he just told them that the world was flat and the grass was purple.
“The farmer?” He asked, staring at his lucky friend with a set of wagon wheel-sized eyes. “That...beautiful mare...is dating you?”
Caramel nodded with a grin. “Eeyup.” He said in an exaggerated county accent.
“Wow, congrats Caramel,” Soarin’ said, raising his mug as if making a toast, “very well done, you should be proud of yourself.”
Before Caramel could have the chance to thank Soarin’ for his kind words, Thunderlane let his disbelief get the better of him.
“Wait. Wait. Hold on a second,” he said, holding out his hooves in an attempt to get everypony to stop talking. “Out of each and every single attractive, single stallion in Ponyville, she... Applejack... arguably one of the most beautiful ponies in town... and the Element of Honesty... chose to date you?” Thunderlane said ‘you’ in the most condescending way possible, and from the look Caramel was giving him, it was clear he understood his pegasus friend’s feelings at the moment, and he was not particularly happy about it.
“Yes, that’s what I just said.” Caramel muttered, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “What’s the problem?”
“Why in Celestia’s name would she do that!?!”
“Thunderlane, take it easy.” Soarin’ said.
Caramel scowled, clearly starting to get annoyed with Thunderlane’s condescending attitude towards him.
“Hey man, you know I’m starting to feel insulted.” Caramel muttered. Soarin’ looked down in shame while Thunderlane just kept staring. “The truth is that she’s kind and sweet and doesn’t see me as any less of a stallion. You see, unlike you, she thinks it’s cool that I don’t drink. She respects the decisions I make as I respect hers. And she finds me interesting, believe it or not, what with all of the horseshoe championships that I’ve won.”
“Horseshoe championships?” Thunderlane asked, feigning confusion as if he didn’t know his friend’s special talent.
Caramel stared for a second, his lip trembling as if he couldn’t believe Thunderlane would ask that.
“Are you kidding?” He asked. Thunderlane remained silent, wanting to make Caramel believe that he seriously didn’t know that his friend was a champion at the sport. Fortunately, Caramel’s gullible nature continued to make Thunderlane’s job of mocking him easier. He rolled his eyes and pointed towards his flank where the image of three horse-shoes were imprinted, “I’m one of the top five horse-shoe throwers in Equestria. How could you not know that? I talk about my competitions all the time.”
“I gotta be honest with you, whenever you open your mouth to talk, my mind shuts down.” Thunderlane said, grinning.
“Then what about this?” Caramel pointed to his cutie mark of three blue horseshoes, “What in the hay did you think these stood for? Trotting?”
Thunderlane’s eyes widened as he continued his act, “Oh that’s your cutie mark? I thought those were just bruises leftover from nights you let stallions rut you.”
Caramel seemed shocked for a moment before his intellect caught up with him.
“You were just kidding about not knowing my special talent, weren’t you?”
“Possibly,” Thunderlane said with the slyest of smirks.
Caramel’s face fell and he frowned, “Ha-ha, very funny. Jerk.”
“It’s not my fault you believe whatever you hear.” Thunderlane laughed before getting back on topic, “But seriously, I really don’t understand this whole Applejack thing.”
“What part don’t you understand?”
“Well, let me put it to you as bluntly as I can.” Thunderlane cleared his throat, “Applejack is hot, and she chose you. In this reality something like that should not be possible.”
“Now why do you say that?” Caramel’s voice started to rise.
“Um guys, maybe we should—” Soarin’ tried to qualm the situation, but was cut off by Caramel.
“No, no Soarin’. I want to hear what Thunderlane has to say,” Caramel waved his hoof, “go on. Elaborate your point.”
“It’s because you’re immature.” Thunderlane spat. The words stung with guilt as they passed his lips, yet he said it with such poise it was as if he was reading off facts in a debate rather than making an objective, albeit insulting, statement about his friend. He leaned closer to Caramel so their muzzles were three inches apart. Out of the corner of his eye, Thunderlane could see Soarin’ fidgeting in his seat, but he ignored it and continued to lecture Caramel. “You’re like a little colt trapped in a grown stallion’s body. And even then your body is more like a blend between a mare and a stallion! Let me ask you, do you even know how...it...works?”
Thunderlane even surprised himself with his jerkiness. He immediately felt regret, but his stubborn pride forced him to maintain a glare and prevent himself from apologizing from his clearly hurt friend. Caramel stared at Thunderlane for a brief moment before he reached into his pocket and pulled out some bits, tossing them onto the counter.
“You’re a judgemental jerk, Thunderlane, and I don’t feel like listening to you insinuate that I’m a loser.” He spat before standing up and looking over at Soarin’, “Good luck tomorrow man, I’ll be there with AJ. We’ll be cheering for you.” Caramel nodded.
“Come on, Caramel,” Soarin’ said, but his friend simply placed his payment of bits onto the counter, shot Thunderlane one more dirty look, and made his way towards the exit.
“Caramel, don’t leave! Please! Dude!” Soarin’ pleaded, but Caramel didn’t listen as he stormed out of the bar. Once Caramel had left, Thunderlane rolled his eyes.
“What a putz.” He sipped from his mug when he felt somepony smack him on the back of the head. Clutching the place where he was struck, Thunderlane turned to see Soarin’ glaring at him.
“What the hay is your problem? Talking to Caramel like that. He found a great mare and you’re putting him down for it. That’s beyond pitiful, man, especially from you.”
“Chill Soarin’, look I’m just trying to toughen him up—”
“By calling him immature? By questioning his stallion-hood? That’s not toughening somepony up, that’s just being mean.”
Thunderlane opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. It suddenly dawned on him how much of a jerk he was being.
“Okay, maybe I went a little overboard. But I’m... I’ve just been in a bad mood recently, all right?”
“Clearly. But that’s still no reason to treat your friend like yesterday’s trash.”
“No, I... I guess it isn’t.” Thunderlane sighed, conceding the argument to his friend. He looked down at his hooves for a moment before lifting his head to see Soarin’s critical glare softening slightly, though he maintained a somewhat critical expression.
“Thunderlane, what’s eating at you?”
Thunderlane shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do, man. Don’t lie to me.”
Thunderlane let out a sigh. “I guess I’m upset about life... about being–”
“Single?” Soarin’ completed his statement. Thunderlane bit his lip. Soarin’ was always good at understanding a pony’s psyche simply by watching the way they acted, or by looking into their eyes. Thunderlane always felt that had he not become a Wonderbolt, and didn’t loathe academia (and reading in general), Soarin’ could have become a psychiatrist. His personality was perfect for it, and he could read ponies like the books he never did.
“Maybe. I mean, it isn’t just that. There’s more to why I’m in a rotten mood. But still. I... I think I need a marefriend. A pretty one. I feel like I’m falling behind. Like the world is passing me by and I’m stuck in a tar-pool like some prehistoric beast.”
Soarin’ placed a reassuring hoof onto his friend's shoulder. “Relax Thunder, it’ll happen. You just need to be patient. Someday you’ll find the perfect mare for you.”
Thunderlane stubbornly pulled away, “That’s easy to say Mister “I’m dating the Captain of the Wonderbolts.”
“Yeah but my relationship with Spitfire wasn’t rushed,” Soarin’ explained, raising his mug of cider, “our relationship budded from us spending so much time together on the Wonderbolts. We worked out together, we went to the same parties, heck we saw movies together on weekends. It was bound to happen eventually.” Soarin’ drank from his mug while Thunderlane looked away, staring down at his own mug, now completely empty, with regret.
“But I don’t have a mare that I see day in and day out. All I have is work, you guys, and Rumble.”
Soarin’ put down his mug and turned back to Thunderlane. “Speaking of Rumble, how is the little guy anyway?”
“He’s fine.”
“Has he learned how to fly yet?”
“A little. He participated in this thing Rainbow Dash organized to get water to the reservoir up in Cloudsdale, but he still needs to work on his speed and consistency.” Thunderlane said, making a mental note to take him to the park over the weekend so they could spend some quality brother-to-brother time further improving on his flying..
“Yeah, Spitfire told me all about that. I heard you were sick during it.”
“Yeah, I got the feather flu.”
“That must’ve been rough.”
Thunderlane nodded, letting out a sigh as he remembered the terrible feeling of being confined to a hospital when he wanted to be flying. Not that the brutish Rainbow Dash would believe him, as she always called him out for being lazy. There was never a more perfect example of the cloud calling the snow white.
Soarin’ continued. “Anyway...did you tell Rumble about...you know...”
Thunderlane looked up at his friend, raising an eyebrow. “Tell him what?”
Soarin’ scoffed, “Don’t act stupid, man. You know what I’m talking about. His father.” He pointed to Thunderlane. “Your father. Have you talked about him with Rumble or are you still perpetuating the lie that everything is sunshine and daisies at your house?”
Listening to his friend talk about his father, Thunderlane unconsciously placed a hoof onto his cheek, right over one of his fresh bruises. Flinching from pain, he brought his hoof down and shook his head.
“I can’t do it.”
“You’re going to have to,” Soarin’ said.
“How can I? He’s so young, and learning the truth would break him.”
“You have to tell him eventually, and the longer you wait, the more it will hurt when he does find out.”
Thunderlane glanced up at Soarin’. “Who says he has to find out?”
“He’s going to eventually,” Soarin’ said, his face the most serious it had been all night. “Even if you don’t tell him yourself, he’ll find a way. You can’t hide the truth from him forever.”
“I’ll try.” Thunderlane grumbled back before looking from side to side, slamming his empty mug onto the countertop. “Can I get another tall cider please? Celestia above I’m not even remotely tipsy yet!”
The barkeep rolled his eyes and trotted over, taking the mug and filling it to the brim so pearly froth dribbled over the sides.
“That’s right. Don’t hold back any. I can hold my liquor wonderfully!” Thunderlane said as the barkeep walked back over behind the counter.
“Look, I know, I’m no expert...” Soarin’ started.
“You think?” Thunderlane hissed as the barkeep placed his now-full mug down in front of him. “How could you be, you don’t have a sibling. Heck, you don’t live with anyone other than your stupid cat.”
Thunderlane started to chug the cider like he was in a competition of some kind. Deep down he hoped the alcohol in the mug would wash away his worries and leave him content.
“First off, leave Miss Mittens out of this. She has done nothing to you besides rub up against your leg when you stop by my house.”
If only a mare would do that to me. Thunderlane thought.
“And secondly,” Soarin’ continued, “while it may be true that I don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling, that doesn’t mean I’m wrong in this case. I guarantee you that anypony you ask will agree with me that you have got to tell him the truth.”
Thunderlane, unable to contain his rage anymore, slammed the mug to the hard countertop. Soarin’ jumped back a bit, almost falling off of his stool. Everypony in the bar turned to look in their direction as Thunderlane leaned towards his celebrity friend, eyes narrowing.
“What truth?” He growled, continuing to stare into his friend’s horrified eyes, “The truth that his father is a good-for-nothing drunk that comes home every night reeking of alcohol, ready and willing to beat the snot out of me? That his own father, a pony he looks up to for reasons I still can’t understand, is nothing more than a violent loser that wallows in the past and can’t seem to get it through his bucking skull that it’s time to move on from his wife leaving him and focus on raising his youngest son correctly? Is that what I should tell my little brother, Soarin’? Is that the ‘truth’ he should know?”
Soarin’ stared at Thunderlane in shock, as did the entire bar. The silence was bone-chilling. A lone cough had the impact of a blood-curdling scream.
Still angry, and still too stubborn to apologize for his outburst and admit that he overreacted, Thunderlane grabbed a napkin and wiped the saliva from his mouth. He then tossed his payment onto the counter and stormed out of the bar, cursing under his breath as the door closed behind him and separated him from everypony’s accusing stare.
Thunderlane trotted under the bright rays of sunlight, which was excruciatingly bright for the pegasus after being stuck in the stuffy bar. He made his way through town at a fairly hasty pace until he was certain that he was far enough away that nopony was following him after his outburst. His scowl remained, but slowed his pace. His vision got cloudy as tears filled his eyes. He continued on until he found himself in the park. Sitting down on one of the available benches, he leaned back and stared up at the sky as various pegasi soared above him.
Part of him wanted to join them, to unfurl his wings and take flight just to feel the rush of freedom he always felt. It was one of the only things that was able to help him forget his troubles. But his frustration was so overbearing that he was unable to do so. So instead he remained sitting on the park bench, lowering his head to look around as ponies of all walks of life passed by without giving him a second glance. He was out in public, yet he still felt isolated from the world. He was outside on a sunny day, yet he felt depressed. He regretted how he treated Caramel, he regretted not finding a very special somepony as he had. But more than either of these, he regretted hiding the truth for Rumble as long as he had.
He knew Soarin’ was right, and that no matter how hard he worked to continue the perpetual facade of happiness, his little brother would eventually discover the truth. He just didn’t want to believe it. Ever since he had started telling the bedtime stories, he had escaped into his own fantasies through the ones he created for Rumble. It was like during that forty-five minute window, from nine-fifteen to ten at night, he could lose himself in the moment and embrace fiction like he never had at any other point. It was the only thing keeping him sane, relatively speaking, and the only thing saving Rumble’s innocence.
Knowing that he would never muster the courage to be honest with his brother, Thunderlane settled for letting out a sigh and closing his eyes. The Sun soothingly warmed his fur as he began to picture himself relaxing in a made-up paradise, a golden beach bordering a crystal blue sea. Rumble on his right side while a beautiful mare sat behind him with her hooves wrapped around his torso and her lips gently pressing against his neck.
He spent about ten minutes in his imagined paradise before he opened his eyes, hopped off the bench and made his way home so he could meet Rumble and continue to lie to him through fun and games.