“That’s the thing about existing. You spend your entire life thinking you can’t do it alone, when that’s only what you’re told. You can spend your entire life thinking about someone but never say anything. Then when they’re gone, you feel betrayed because you think you never had the chance to say how you felt. You did. You had plenty of chances. You just didn’t think you were ready.

“And they’re gone and you’re sitting down one day and thinking. You’re thinking and you’re thinking and you realize you have been sitting in the same spot for twenty minutes doing nothing but think. And for some reason, you never realize that that’s why you’re depressed. You never say, you just think.

“So, you’re alone. You don’t have to be. You think you are, but you can always go out to a bar or meet the pony your mom is trying to hook you up with. And you have the nerve to say, ‘But that’s not the one I want to be with!’ But what is what you want versus what makes you happy?

“What I want is to be happy. Can I be happy and alone? Sure, I have that option. It’s just nice to share the experience with somepony… I’m sorry, I’m rambling on.”

I take a long sip from my tea, my chest feeling jittery yet brand new. I was tempted to turn my headphones up to rid myself of the awful ambience that would ensue, but I was trying to be a more confident pony now. In fact, why did I even have them on?

Setting my teacup back on its coaster, my horn glowed brightly as I slid the headphones off my head and placed them around my neck. Doctor Gonzo stared back at me, drawing a blank look. Dammit. I should have figured that I would disappoint him when I showed that all of his time and research only led me into coming to terms with myself.

He was pressed back in his chair, talon poised beneath his beak in thought as I relayed all of his information back to him. After a few more seconds, he leaned in over the table, setting his talon down in his lap. “I first conceived the idea for the Foresight Apparatus when Rita died.” he said.

I only sat there and listened.

“She was giving birth and well… she didn’t make it. I was in the worst state of depression that I had ever been in. Nothing but Rita was on my mind for what felt like a century. We worked well together and treated each other well.

“Before she died, we were working on a machine. We wanted to create a time travel device, but knew that that sort of technology wouldn’t come until well into the future. So instead, we came up with the basics of time travel. The schematics. We wanted to create a device that could foresee the future.

“Then she passed and, well, I was left to pick up whatever research we had on us. That’s when I conceived a new possibility: the idea of alternate realities. I didn’t want to just see Rita again; I wanted to know what our future would have been like together.”

He stopped. Bringing a talon up to his beak, he covered it. His eyes began to flow with water. I felt sorry for him, so I tried to show that I was invested with everything he had to say. “So you came up with the idea of alternate realities?” I added.

He nodded and sniffed. “Yes,” he choked. “Yes, that’s what I had in mind.” He looked down at the floor, obviously not willing to make eye contact with me. “I wanted to invent the basis for alternate realities. We already had the schematics for time travel worked out. I just had to pick up the pieces.

“You probably saw an old photo of Rita — the machine, not her — on the wall on your way through the house. That was the first prototype. Over twenty years ago. Two decades younger and over three decades old.”

I nod.

“You’re also probably wondering why Rita was showing up in the Foresight Zone. It was a simple glitch. Your reality had intercepted the reality of someone who previously used the machine.”

“You?”

He nodded. “I was my own guinea pig. I lied when I said other ponies tried it out. I wanted to give the impression that the machine works. When I wasn’t gathering the results that I wanted, I decided that I would need a test subject to decide where I was going wrong. Now I know why.”

He went silent, looking down at the table. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said the first thing that came to mind.

“You’ll find someone out there again.”

He looked back up to me. A smile stretched across his beak. “Thank you, Vinyl.”

I turn my headphones on full blast, the awful ambience of the room drowning itself out. Ponies — ponies everywhere. This is not something that I was excited for. When I saw the flier for the dating seminar, I had hoped it’d just be a small event with very few ponies, but this felt like a Summer Sun Celebration.

So there I was, standing in the middle of an avalanche only narrowly avoiding me, a name tag hanging from my neck. Holding a red plastic cup filled with beer (“It’s of the nonalcoholic variety!”) in magic, I waited next to the catering table for everything to be over.

Then I felt a nudge on my right shoulder and nearly spilled my drink. Turning, I saw a pretty looking unicorn mare with a mint-colored coat and similarly-colored mane with a white streak that reminded me to buy toothpaste. She was trying to say something, her voice like an echo in a styrofoam cave over my music.

Brushing one speaker behind my ear, I listened.

“I said, are you DJ Pon3?”

I nod.

She broke out into a smile. “Cool, I’ve always wanted to meet you!”

I nod again. “Sure,” I say. “And you are?”

“Lyra. Heartstring, but most ponies just call me Lyra.”

“It’s good to meet you,” I say. “I’m Vinyl Scratch, although you already know me as DJ Pon3. Feel free to call me whatever.”

We shook hooves and the chatter between us grew silent for a moment. “Hey, uh…” Well, here goes nothing. My heart fluttered as I forced myself to find the confidence to say what I was going to say. “Do you want to sit down?”

She smile. “Sure!”

We found an empty table on the other side of the room that was surprisingly at a comfortable spot away from the crowd. We sat down opposite of each other with drinks in front of us (of the nonalcoholic variety, too).

“Geez, the atmosphere in here is awful,” Lyra said.

I nod my head with a smile. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew the crowd would be like this.”

“Me neither. I’m not good with ponies.”

“Same here.”

“So what are you listening to?”

She pointed to the headset behind my horn. I nearly flush as I realize that the left speaker was still hanging over my ear. Sliding it off with my magic, I wrapped the headset around my neck. “Oh, just some death metal. You know, all that lovely stuff.”

Her face molded into one of joyful resignation. “You like death metal! What bands do you listen to?”

I shrug. “Whatever I can get my hooves on. Razorgrain and Cyanide, Mustard Jazz, Sax in the Bed, pretty much anything.”

“Have you heard of Neighponese Starlights?”

“Actually, I have their newest album, which I’ll be playing at a party for some rich filly tomorrow night.”

She gasped. “They’re the best! I saw them in concert when they first started touring and got to meet the lead singer.”

“And how did that go?”

She shrugged. “Turns out the forked tongue is only a prop.”

I nod along letting her know that I was listening, then I realized that the air had grown quiet between the two of us. Now all that was left was this awkward ambiance, which would have been even worse if I whipped my headset back over my ears and started blasting music again.

Thankfully, Lyra broke the silence for me. “Sorry, I’m not good at…” She made a back and forth gesture with her hoof, indicating that she was trying to point between the two of us. “This. I hope I haven’t made things awkward somehow.”

I shake my head, “No, no, look —-” I tried to think of something to say but couldn’t think. If now was a time to be confident, then I better grasp onto the opportunity before it was too late. “Look, I know how it feels to feel discluded while you’re being included. It happens to me all the time. In fact, you’re probably the first pony I’ve said this many words to in a long time.”

Lyra’s gaze shot up from the table and looked me in the eyes. My eyes. Or rather, the sunglasses over my eyes. I realized that they were a deflecting device that would probably shoo her away. I didn’t want to feel intimidating, so wrapping them up in magic, I plucked them off my face, folded them up, and set them on the table.

“So here’s what we’re going to do, I guess.” I rubbed the back of my head, feeling a bubble of anxiety pop in my stomach. “Let’s talk.”