Sensation (SFW Version)

by Vivid Syntax


Chapter 18 - A Hazy Tour

Saturday morning. Our day on the town. Just what I'd been waiting for.

Easy, right?

My heart beat erratically as I reached up and knocked on Braeburn's door. I'd gotten up early to shower and preen myself again, but I still hoped he'd help me with those tough spots. I didn't want to give him an excuse to stay inside, though. Part of me was afraid he'd chicken out or, worse, hate me for making him parade around town with me.

I chewed on my tongue. "He needs this." Heh. Like some kind of freaking psychologist or something, right? I think… telling myself I was helping was easier than admitting how much I needed him.

Nopony answered the door. I knocked again and steeled myself for two scenarios: he wasn't going to answer, or he'd open the door with the saddest, most worried face I could imagine.

Is it just me, or is everypony bad at predicting things? I really gotta stop trying to do that.

The door flew open and slammed on the inside, and Braeburn's head popped out at me. "Hey there, Big Blue! Ready to paint the town red? Or are ya' yellow? Ha! Get it?" He reached out and cuffed me across the shoulder, all smiles and giggles. He hit a lot harder than you'd think, but it didn't hurt. He rocked back and forth on this front hooves a couple times, getting pretty close to my face as he waited for a response.

All the tension was gone, and I reeled from the lameness of his joke. I shook my head and smiled. "You're amazing."

Braeburn leaned in and brushed his nose against mine, which made my wings hitch up just a bit. "And you're a sweetheart. Glad you're here."

My heart fluttered, and my eyes half-closed. "I-I am, too."

I stood there for a second, but Braeburn kept rocking back and forth on his hooves, staring at me with half-lidded eyes. Then he kept doing the same thing. Then he wobbled a bit and kept doing the same thing some more. A breeze blew by, aaaaand the magic was kinda lost. I looked around, suddenly feeling super exposed. I turned back to him. "So..."

"Uh-huh?" He stopped rocking and smiled at me again. He took a couple unnatural, wobbly steps in place and started tapping the floor with a forehoof. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were flushed.

I backed off half a step. "Did you... sleep last night?"

Braeburn shifted in place again, but his voice didn't lose any of its bounciness. "Oh, hardly! I was..." He looked up and to the side. His next few words came out wooden and rhythmic. I'm pretty sure he'd rehearsed. "...too excited for the morning." He looked at me with a big grin, then snickered and lay down. It looked like he was nodding off. Then his head snapped up and he stood up again and leaned against the doorframe.

'Oh, dammit.' It hit me. I jabbed his chest and spoke flatly. "Braeburn, you're drunk."

Braeburn just grinned wider. He looked around slyly, then leaned in and held a hoof to his face, jamming it to his lip in a way that looked super uncomfortable. "Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh," he whispered through the snickers. "If you don't tell, I'll let you have a nip. Aunt Honeycrisp's own moonshine. Tastes just like apple pie."

Now, see, alcohol's famous for causing bad decisions. The thing is, everypony thinks the bad decisions start once you've already been drinking. Nope. "Sure!"

Braeburn hooked me by the neck, dragged me inside, and slammed the door shut. The early morning light gave the room a faint glow. He bounced over to the small couch and plopped down, and I could see a big, clear glass jug sitting on the ground. Braeburn patted the seat next to him, and I trotted over.

I should have refused. It was nerves, though. I mean, I wasn't thinking straight! I was excited for the day, and I figured if it helped him get through, then yeah, why not? Did I know I was making a mistake? Probably. Did I know how much I was hurting him? Dude, if that thought had crossed my mind for even a second, I would have stopped. I just... I'm an idiot.

I sat down, and Braeburn scooped up the jug. The amber liquid inside caught the light as it sloshed around like water, and there was only about a third of it left. I prayed he hadn't drunk the rest just that morning.

Braeburn tapped the side of the jug. "This here's Aunt Honeycrisp's pride and joy. It tastes just like apple pie." He was repeating himself. How many red flags can you get, right? "Have a nip."

He passed me the booze, and I swirled it around a few times, watching the alcohol dance. I looked over at Braeburn, who gave me a little nudge. Moonshine isn't very forgiving, but I wasn't going to back out. I raised the jug to him. "Bottom's up!" I tilted my head back and tipped the jug.

It wasn't fast enough for Braeburn. "Aw, don't be so timid!" He quickly reached a hoof over and bumped the bottom of the jug. The rim hit my teeth, but he'd gotten the job done – the moonshine sloshed into my mouth, but I was able to keep it all in despite the sudden deluge.

Apple pie. He hadn't been lying. It tasted just like apple pie, with all the cinnamon and sweetness and everything. I'm always tempted to chug to show off or whatever, but this stuff deserved some special attention. I swished it around my mouth before swallowing.

No burn. Just warmth.

No bad aftertaste. Just pie.

I brought the bottle down and set it on my lap. My head slowly cranked towards him, and I smirked. "Yeah... You're not getting this back." I clutched the jug to my chest and stuck my tongue out at him.

Braeburn snickered as he settled back. "Good, ain't it? Careful, though. That stuff'll knock ya' on your ass." His cheeks glowed. He paused and gave me a sideways glance. "Especially a city-slicker like you."

"Oh, really?" I wasn't gonna take that! I've got pride, and I can drink any of the 'Bolts under the table. Just ask Streak. Actually, no. He probably won't remember.

I wrapped my lips around the rim and tilted the jug back, suckling on it like a newborn foal. It slid down my throat like liquid candy until there were only a few swallows left. With a big sigh, I set the jug down hard on the couch. "Ha! Just like water."

Braeburn's eyes stayed half-closed as he chuckled and slowly shook his head. "You're screwed."

After that display, I was feeling cocky. I rested a foreleg on the back of the couch and turned my body to him. "Heh. If things go well, I won't be the only one." I winked and clicked my tongue at him. "Third date, after all." No, the booze hadn't loosened me up yet. I was just feeling bold.

Braeburn didn't react right away. He eyed me up and down, and he took another long look at my waist before he met my gaze again. He squinted a little more, but he didn't stop grinning as he reached for the rest of the moonshine. "Maybe, but I don't much appreciate my stallions acting all greedy." He took the jug, drained it in two gulps, and set it on the floor. It wobbled on the floorboards before finally tipping over and landing with a thud. No shatter, though.

"Oh, so I'm your stallion now?" I was just starting to feel the warmth spread to my limbs. "Didn't realize I'd made my choice."

Braeburn had slid from goofy-drunk to that stage where you just wanna chill out and listen to some smooth music. His voice was mellow, and he looked like he might pass out. "You got an objection?" He scooted over and rested his head on my shoulder, right in the space I'd made for him. His eyes closed as he settled in.

I let my foreleg slip from the back of the couch onto his shoulder. "Not a single one." I squeezed. He let me.

We both took a deep breath and sighed at the same time. My heart leapt at that. It's one of those stupid things that's never as cute when other ponies do it, but when it happens to you, it's the greatest thing in the world.

We stayed like that for a while. The clock ticked from the kitchen, and I found myself counting the seconds. I kept losing count, but that was okay. The warm feeling on my side made everything okay.

After a while, my mouth started feeling dry, and my stomach grumbled at me when it realized what I'd done to it. I smacked my lips. "So. I haven't eaten anything. How bad's it gonna get?"

Braeburn cracked an eye and looked up at me. His mane brushed against my foreleg and sent shivers all the way to my tail. "Like I said, you're screwed." He yawned. "And your cheeks are red, by the way."

I lifted my free hoof to feel my cheek. It was hot. "Yeah, let's get some food. You said there's a restaurant in town?"

Braeburn's shoulder twitched. "Ya' really want to go out there blitzed off your ass?"

"Psh. I'll be fine," I whined, jostling him a little. "You promised."

"I..." He took a few breaths. "I just don't want to cause trouble." He was making excuses.

And they weren't going to work. I leaned my head down and met him eye-to-eye. "Said the pony that tore down a henhouse to build his mansion."

Braeburn snickered. "Soarin', I–"

"You broke apart families, Braeburn. Those little eggs probably got dumped into an orphanage somewhere."

"That's–"

"Small ones. Like, six or twelve at a time. Do you know what happens to kids in those places?"

Braeburn rolled his eyes and laughed into my foreleg-pit. "No, Soarin'. What happ–"

"They get eaten! A bunch of innocent little eggs, scrambled or fried or pied, all because you–" My voice was getting louder. "–wanted another vacation home." I lifted up his chin so he'd look at me, then went wide-eyed and added, "You monster!"

Braeburn just shook his head and laughed again. "Alright, alright. I'll give you your damn tour." He pushed away from me and stood up, and the side of my body suddenly felt way too cold. "Just no flying until you sober up. I don't need to scrape a pegasus off somepony's roof this weekend." He started a slow march to the door.

"Lead on!" I stood up, but my right forehoof missed the ground somehow. I stumbled and felt super dizzy, but I caught myself and stood in a wide stance. "Whoa. Head rush."

Braeburn looked over his shoulder and flicked his tail at me. "Heh. You wish. Let's get some food in you."

That moonshine really hit me about halfway into town. The sun shone brighter, the ground felt wobblier, and my wings kept flapping all over the place to keep me upright. A few of the locals milled around, but I didn't see any unicorns or pegasi, so hopefully none of the tourists saw me make an ass of myself. I certainly never fell on my face, though. Don't believe anypony that says otherwise. They're lying. They're a bunch of lying liars. I'm a good drunk. I just... needed some food. Yeah.

Braeburn wasn't so steady-hoofed, either, but he was much better at hiding it. He walked with this kind of country swagger, moving around all loose and uninhibited. He still made a misstep or two, but he kept nodding his head to everypony and wishing them a good morning. He even tipped his hat a few times. What did I tell you? Total mayor material.

I honestly don't remember what the inside of the restaurant looked like. There were round wooden tables and, like, a big chalkboard menu or something, but we got stuck in a booth at the very back, away from everypony else. Typical, right? Gotta hide the queers. We'd hate for somepony to get offended. Total crap.

Oh. Wait. Maybe the hostess just saw that we were hammered. Actually, yeah, it's probably better that they stuck us in the corner.

Braeburn and I kept giggling and poking each other under the table. I tried to see how many dirty jokes I could make before we'd get thrown out, and he managed to shut me up before they got too blue. I mean, I'm not telling you what I'd said, but I could have gone a lot worse.

He was taking it in stride, though, and we swapped drinking stories while we waited. I told him about the time just the week before, the one at that private party where I was thinking about him all night. "Dude, you should have seen this guy. Way older than I'd usually go, and he had no idea how to hide it. Total wreck."

Braeburn took another big gulp of ice water, then struggled to set the glass down without spilling. "So you told him to buck off, right?"

"Nope. He got a quickie, at least." I kicked him under the table. "See what you did to me?"

"Ha! Me? You're the one who left." He kicked back. "Least you found your way back."

I smiled. "How about you? Any other good ones?"

"Heh, well..." Braeburn fiddled with his silverware. "One time, uh... a buddy and I drank our way through a whole barrel of cider in the middle of the night." He lowered his voice. "We ended up sneaking onto Silverstar's roof and, uh... doin' the tango, if you catch my drift."

I burst out laughing. "Dude! He's got kids!" For some reason, I also thought it was hilarious imagining Braeburn doing the actual tango on somepony's roof.

Braeburn's face went red. He cast a quick look around, then leaned in, laughing along with me. "Oh, shut your pie hole." He tried to shush me by grabbing the hay sausage off my plate and stuffing it in my mouth. It worked, but then I just sucked on it and flicked my tongue across the tip and made a bunch of lewd noises until we both lost it again.

It was a lot of fun, and by the time we left, I think everypony in the restaurant was looking at us.

* * * * *

Soarin' wipes his mouth with a napkin, which he lets fall to the empty plate. His braces squeak again as he sets his hooves down. "Speaking of which..." He jerks his head behind him.

I take the last sip of my drink and take another subtle look around. Soarin's noticed, too. The rest of the conversations around us have stopped, and the pegasus couple two tables over is outright staring at us. I set my cup down and wipe up a few wayward crumbs. "Back to your place, then?"

Soarin's lower lip sticks out, and he works his jaw back and forth while raising an eyebrow at me. "Uh... no." High-pitched. Breathy. Slight inflection at the end. He's worried? No, he doesn't want me to know something. Or maybe he's still angry about the book deal comment. I fidget in my chair and look away for a moment. It was just an idea.

No. It was stupid of me. That's what it was. It was a miscalculation, a mistake that cost me my notes and perhaps even my chance to visit his home ever again. I should be thankful he's telling me this story at all.

Sit up straight.

I blink away the doubts from the edge of my mind. I hesitate. "Are we... done, then? You were talking about Saturday, and the first pictures came out Sunday, but I was hoping to get your reaction to the rest of it." Cover your bases. Politeness. "Everything up until now's been great, though." Smile, or he'll think you're playing him.

...

Sweet Luna. I am just like the paparazzi.

My stomach churns, and my bones ache.

Before I can regurgitate my lunch through sheer self-loathing, Soarin' holds up a hoof. "Dude, relax. You don't need to be so high-strung." Might as well tell a pegasus he doesn't need to be so up-in-the-clouds. "We're cool." His eyes dart to the side towards the rest of the customers. "They just don't need to get an earful."

The couple that had been staring quickly turns back to their meal.

I rub my leg to calm myself down. "Certainly. Wherever you're most comfortable."

"Cool." He sucks a little bit of food out of his teeth. "There's a park nearby, about fifteen minutes away by hoof. Nopony's ever there. Let's go." Soarin' pushes his chair back, wincing a little and flinching his left foreleg.

I give him time, then get up as well. We trot out the door with Soarin' leading the way.

* * * * *

Okay. What happened next? There was breakfast, aaaaaaand... Oh yeah!

I hadn't sobered up. Hell, if anything, it felt like it was getting worse. My hooves landed wherever they wanted, I couldn't focus on more than one thing at a time, and the whole town was spinning. My stomach had settled, though. The food hadn't been nearly as good as Braeburn's, but I was just happy to get out with a full belly.

The sun was still too bright, though, and Braeburn saw me squinting. "You really need a–" He burped. Loudly. "–a hat. Next stop!"

The building three doors down had big saloon-style doors, and Braeburn practically pushed me through. I stumbled inside the dim shop, bumping my head on the doors, and stopped dead in my tracks. You know how alcohol messes with your depth perception? I was convinced the shop was bigger than the whole rest of the town, and I couldn't make out where the back wall was.

Hats! All hats! Wall to wall, aisle after aisle, and overflowing in big bins. Pink ones, black ones, cowpony hats with stars, and bonnets in a million sizes. Freaking hats, dude!

"Whoa..." I had to take my steps carefully, and each one felt like my hoof was sinking into the floor. There were piles of hats everywhere. I wanted to go swimming in them.

Braeburn stumbled in, laughing about something. He leaned against me for support. "So, what do you think?"

"HAAAAATS!!!"

"Eeyup." He slapped me on the shoulder. "You really know your clothing."

We walked forward. It felt nice to have somepony supporting my weight, and it made the room stop spinning. We got about halfway down the aisle before I knocked anything over. Not bad, actually.

Braeburn helped me pick up the rack my butt had knocked over, and he took advantage of my inability to move to say, "You, uh..." I saw him bite his lower lip. "Take your pick! My treat!"

He sat down and swayed a little, looking everywhere but at me. He'd flick his eyes at me once in a while to gauge my reaction. Of course, I didn't really understand at the time that he was giving me a gift in a public place, and I really didn't understand how major it was.

I almost let myself flop onto him just to hear him squeak, but instead I managed to take a step towards him. "That's so thoughtful," I said in a clear, direct voice that wasn't at all hard to understand and absolutely didn't come out mumbled because I was wasted.

"What?" His voice echoed in the store.

If anypony else was there, I didn't notice them. "You're a great guy!" I shouted.

Braeburn smiled and managed to keep loopy eye contact.

I sat down in front of him. "Any hat I want?" I told myself, 'Steady. Don't wanna poke him in the eye.'

He nodded. "Any one you like."

"Okay." I took a quick breath, then reached out and nabbed the cowpony hat from his head. Smooth like butter. I put it backwards on my own head, then stuck my forehooves out into the air. "Ta-da!"

Braeburn leaned forward and patted my nose. I thought he was congratulating me on my awesome stunt, but then I realized he was trying to get his hat back. "Gimme."

"No! I want this one." I adjusted the hat. It was still backwards. "It's mine now."

"Heh. That'll be the day." He snatched his hat from me and put it back on, tapping it down just to be sure.

We messed around in the hat store for a long time. It was entertaining, but I think we drove away everypony else. Eventually, I decided I'd stick with the cap I'd bought at the train station, and Braeburn said he owed me a real hat someday.

Funny how life works out sometimes, right?

We walked out of the store. Braeburn made some comment about needing to stop by the Sheriff's office, but I couldn't hear him. Breakfast hadn't absorbed enough alcohol, and I could still feel the world getting woozier. I definitely had the spins, but I was still conscious. "Dude, what the buck is wrong with your aunt? How's she even make that stuff?"

Braeburn wasn't there anymore, so I sat down on the porch outside the hat store and leaned backed against the wall for stability. My head kept bobbing down, too, and my eyelids felt heavy. I nodded off until I heard a voice.

"So, you his new drinking buddy?"

My head snapped up.

A pink mare with a purple mane and tail stared down at me with an angry frown on her face.

I rubbed my eyes. "Who are you?"

"The owner of the business you're ruining. We need to talk." She reached down with her mouth and bit onto the back of my neck to pull me up.

Sign you're super drunk? Realizing something hurts without actually feeling pain. I struggled to get up because my neck protested enough through the haze, and as she walked into the shop, I hobbled after her, back through the doors. A sign hung on the outside that read, "Back in five!"

As soon as I was inside, she pulled me around a corner and laid into me in a sharp, forceful, hushed voice. "Alright, troublemaker. You listen here: it ain't right what you're doing to poor Braeburn."

One of my eyes blinked as I tried to make sense of her words. "What?"

She glowered at me. "I'll make this simple: stop forcing the sauce down his throat. Nopony needs to drink that much."

"Hey!" I pointed a hoof, but she backed off like I'd taken a swing at her. Maybe my limbs weren't as coordinated as I needed them to be. "It's his fault. He had this pie, and it was soooo good." I smiled at the warmth in my cheeks and thought, 'Nailed it!'

"Liar!" she yelled. I shrunk. "Braeburn swore off that stuff after that last coltfriend of his skipped town. Good riddance, I say, but at least he fessed up." She spat at me. "To think Braeburn would find somepony worse than Bronze. He doesn't need to go down that path again."

I sobered right up. "W-what?"

"Sure, he's a grown stallion, and he can make his own mistakes, but we've got his back, you hear? Don't be tempting him with the ways of sin, or I'll kick your sorry backside all the way to Canterlot." She stomped. "Now get out, and don't let anypony else see you like this."

'Worse than Bronze?' Her voice rang in my head as she shuffled me out the door. I wasn't feeling playful or happy anymore.

Braeburn sauntered up a moment later. "There you are! I was afraid you'd hit the sky. Lucky you're so easy to spot. C'mon, there's still a bunch to see!"

The tour went kinda downhill after that. I was suddenly hyper-aware of everything I was doing. Every time I turned around and felt dizzy or giggled at something that wasn't funny, I'd stare over at Braeburn, wonder if I was ruining his life, and stop smiling. The tickle in my chest told me to ask him about it, but I couldn't. I... I didn't want to interrupt the tour.

I didn't want him to stop being excited to be with me.

Not like Braeburn stayed relaxed for the whole day, though. At about the time we got to the town hall, he'd started looking over his shoulder again. He kept rushing us into buildings and avoiding other ponies. He'd sobered up, basically, and it all stopped being fun.

We were checking out the water tower – can you even imagine how creepy it must be not having enough water? – when I finally spoke up. "Hey, Braeburn?"

He was quick to answer. "What's up?" He turned to me, but I could still see his eyes darting around, catching every pony that glanced at us.

Ponies like compliments. It's easier to talk about hard stuff when you start out with something positive. That's why Spitfire and I worked so well together, I think. "Appleloosa's great, and–"

That cheered him up, probably more than I wanted. "Darn tootin'! Quite a lot for such a small town, ain't it?"

"Yeah! Great ponies, too." My voice was shaky, and my back leg itched. "Really hospitable, and you can certainly..." I looked away. "…drink." I sauntered over between two buildings, away from prying eyes. The shade was a nice break from the heat.

Braeburn raised an eyebrow and followed me. "What are you getting at?"

I sighed and thought to myself, 'Around town together. I wanna do it the right way.' When I was sure I had his attention, I lowered my voice. "Yesterday, you said there was a dance every Saturday." I took a sharp breath and put on my confident face. No, I don't know what my confident face looks like. I’m not one of those stallions that makes faces at himself in the mirror. Not very often, anyway. Point is, Braeburn didn't need some cutesy, shy guy asking him out. He needed somepony with a backbone. "You. Me. Dancing. Fun times." I flashed him a smile, and a few other thoughts bubbled up. 'Your place. Bed. Lots of moaning.' I spread my wings out. Gotta use your assets, right? "What do you say?"

Braeburn scanned down to my hooves and up to my wings, and a smile broke onto his face. "Yeah. I think I can deal with that."

"Sober."

His smile shattered. "W-what?" His back went rigid, and his tail flicked a few times. "W-why would –"

Wonderbolts aren't subtle. "Because I don't want to be a replacement Bronze."

Braeburn took half a step back, paused, and looked down at the dirt. After an agonizingly long moment, I heard him mumble, "Told you everypony talks."

My wings snapped back to my sides, and I crumpled a little. I'm glad he didn't see me. I took a deep breath and told myself to stallion up. My Captain Soarin' voice, the real direct one that I use to psyche up the team, came out to play. "Braeburn, they know you like stallions. It's fine." I stepped forward and lifted his hat. "Stallions are great!"

He squinted, giggled, and shook his head.

"Especially me. Now, then." I set my hooves down and flared out my wings with military crispness. "You gonna live out every school-filly's dream and let the captain of the hoofball team take you out?"

"Ha!" He stomped a forehoof once, but then he looked way again. "Y–" He exhaled and started nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be okay, I think. Gotta make sure Spring Bell's up for runnin' everything, though." His voice was shaky, but he was agreeing.

"Good! I wanna go with you, though. Not Apple Flask. I'm serious about that no-drinking thing." I told myself I'd be better than Bronze. I wouldn't let myself be the enabler, even if it meant putting up with a bunch of stupid folk music all night.

"Drunk Braeburn doesn’t need a nickname." A warm breeze almost blew his hat off. He reached up, took it off his head, and sat down to spin it around in his hooves. He had trouble keeping eye contact. "There's plenty to do besides just dancing. We could–"

I sat down, too. "Dude, what's the big deal? So they talk, so what?"

"It's different, Soarin'."

"I don't think it is." My tail beat against the dirt. "Ponies talk about other ponies. It happens. You get over it."

I don't know if you're queer, but, like, if you are? I'm sorry about what I said. I get that saying "get over it" isn't real advice, and it's not fair to say that to somepony that's struggling, but it's hard. Once you've gotten past the point of caring what other ponies think about you, it's hard to remember what it was like before, how it felt when you weren't so sure the world would accept you.

When Braeburn didn't respond, I asked, "What's the big deal, anyway?" Heh. Like it's that simple.

"I…" He looked up at me, right in the eye. I think that made it easier, and that makes me happy. "I just want to be normal, Soarin'. A part of the community, not just the weird bachelor that works all the time and can't hold a relationship. See, when you're different, you get isolated, right? I’m sure you've felt it, too."

Sorry, just…

He said, "Probably why you're taking time off from the Wonderbolts, right? Not feeling like part of the team?"

Ugh.

I'm awful. That's all there is to it.

I swallowed and lied through my teeth. "Yeah. I-I get it. And you're right. I just… needed to get away."

"See? Like I said, it's like I don't have… Yeah, let's go to the dance. It starts at sundown. See you then?"

I liked that idea. It gave me enough time to go sleep off the headache that was creeping into my skull. "Sure! Meet at your place?"

Some of the brightness came back to his eyes. "You got it."

We split up, and I went back to my room at the hotel. I couldn't sleep, though. I kept thinking about how I'd basically guilted Braeburn into going sober. I hate when ponies manipulate each other and always have an agenda, know what I mean?

I downed some water, took some aspirin, and went for a flight. It wasn't as hot that day, and there were even some big clouds that blocked out the sun for a few seconds at a time.

I climbed high into the air and looked down at Appleloosa. It was a splotch. It was a tiny, little puddle of buildings out in the middle of nowhere, insignificant to almost everypony else in the world. Nopony had heard of it, and it barely had an impact on the rest of Equestria.

It was a treasure, though, and it had a lot of reasons to exist. And if it made Braeburn happy to be there and live peacefully despite all the gossip, then that should have been enough. I think I would have come around if I'd had more time.

Bucking paparazzi.

At some point, I drifted over the orchard, and it only took a few seconds to see a little yellow dot moving from tree to tree, bucking apples at a feverish pace. I hovered in the air a little while, high up where he couldn't see me against the blue sky, and wondered about him. 'I don't know. I mean, he's out, right? And nopony ever dates just one pony. Why can't he just get over the fact that ponies are going to judge him?'

I get it now, of course, but it's tough keeping perspective when you're in the moment, you know? It's never as easy as you want it to be.