//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: The Artist // by P-Berry //------------------------------// I felt a smile cross my face as I thought back to this evening. To be honest, I hadn’t expected her to actually stay with me. Past experiences had shown that taking the leap of faith was more likely to mess things up rather than anything good for-say. If anything it would have ended up with my face buried in the concrete with shattered everything, soul included. However, this time it had worked. She had come back inside, and we had a very pleasant talk about art, drawing, painting and similar likes. Fresh Coat was a nice pony - probably one of the nicest I had met ever since moving to Manehatten. She was lighthearted, easy going, laid back - almost the exact opposite of most other ponies I had to deal with every day. The evening had been truly pleasant, and I had surprised myself when I had, without any hesitation, asked if she would be up for having dinner together again. She had surprised me even more when she, with a genuine and happy smile on her face, had agreed and proposed meeting again next weekend. Well, here I was. It was Friday afternoon, a few hours before sunset, and I was sitting in a small diner sitting aside one of Manehatten’s busiest main roads. I was nervous. Partly because I didn’t know how things would go from here, partly because… I lifted my head, looking at the clock hung on the wall across the room… we had agreed to meet fifteen minutes ago. And she still hadn’t shown up. Was she just being nice that night when I had admitted her art was good? Had she had second thoughts during the days I hadn't been able to see or even speak to her? Did she simply decide not to come? It was only fifteen minutes, but soon it would be sixteen, then seventeen, then eighteen minutes later. Before I would even know it I would have been sitting here for three hours, drunk out of my mind on champagne and utterly heartbroken and embarrassed, but then I remembered waffle houses didn’t serve champagne. That may have been my fantasies, but the reality was still clear. She may very well have just ditched me, and even though people here ate alone the thought of being left to dry still made me feel like I was that guy at the fancy restaurant with a reservation for two with a vacant empty seat just on the other side of that candle stick and wine glass. “You ready to order yet?” Looking up it was the same mare that had visited me when I had entered and it seemed she was making another round taking all the orders with a note pad and pen tucked between her ear and cake battered apron covering her chest. “No, sorry,” I answered, doing my best not to be rude. “I just need a little longer to... mull over the menu options and all.” She tilted her head and said, “But you haven’t even opened the menu yet.” Looking to my right I remembered that I hadn't even touched it to begin with. It still sat there on its rack along with the salt and pepper shakers and a small jar of syrup. I gave her a sheepish grin and said, “I’m waiting for somepony.” “Is it a date?” she questioned. I nodded, feeling a little giddy at the thought of calling our get-together a date. “She late?” the mare asked in more flat tone of voice. “Eh… Yea.” I admitted as I furtively began looking out the window and down the sidewalk hoping that I might see her coming even as we spoke. “Is it your first date with her?” With my mind half occupied with the commotion going on outside I half-consciously answered, “Well… more like my first date ever.” I then stiffened and snapped my head around to see her wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I'd ever seen a mare wear before. Had I really just told this mare my lack -or rather failure- of a social life summing it all up in one comment? “Well hotshot,” she teased taking a step back. Thankfully not laughing out loud. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see if you’ve changed your mind.” “Um,” I stammered, unable to come to grips with myself. “Eyea, sure.” I face-planted into the table. ‘I’m stupid, I’m stupid, I’m stupid!’ my mind moaned to me. 'Could have just said, ‘yea,’ you know? Didn’t have to mention your fucking shit dating life.’ Now my awkward presence in the restaurant felt even more oppressing, even though pretty much only the busser knew what I had said. Still, I genuinely felt like cutting my losses and walking out of the place before I could involuntarily make a bigger fool of myself. After all, I only did my mane this morning. Not like I was actually looking forward to this or anything. However just as I was about to scootch on out of my seat, the door’s hanging bell jingled and with it came the all too familiar mare I had only moments ago given up all hope for. She stepped through the entrance, her eyes darted over the guests seated at the dozen tables searching for me. Moments later she spotted me, and I could feel my heart flutter as her face lit up in recognition. She did remember our date! But more importantly she remembered me! -and my face! Giddy I watched as she then walked in my direction, over to my table as I let my eyes slip over her body. Only with difficulties could I stop my jaw from dropping. To be fair, so far I had gotten to know her as a rather relaxed, casual and easy-going pony. Her mane had always looked rather informal, the fact that she hadn’t been wearing any clothes, makeup or jewelry, safe for her trusty ballcap that just added to this impression. Now, however, it felt like I was looking at an entirely different pony. The ballcap was gone and she wore a relaxed, carefree grin on her face. She was wearing a dress. A simple black piece of clothing that engulfed her curvy body and ended just above her hooves. It looked nonchalant and far from fancy, but it was a dress nonetheless. Her mane was loose now, hanging down both sides of her head like a pitch black waterfall, and I was sure I spotted a touch of makeup on her face as she came closer. My eyes were resting on her while she came walking into my direction, and I had to resist the urge to fan myself as my cheeks warmed up. Mother of Celestia, she was looking magnificent! “Hey.” Fresh Coat said as she stopped next to my table. The self-conscious, almost smug grin on her face was gone, now replaced by a thin, slightly embarrassed smile. “S-sorry for being late. I … took a little longer than expected … getting dressed ya know.” “I could tell,” I noted as I admired every bit of her. “You look…” I paused, searching for a word to express the million thoughts running through my mind only to ultimately settled for, “amazing!” I wasn’t very poetic. She looked to the side, and I could feel my heart become weightless as I spotted a light blush on her face as it caught in the late morning sun. “Thanks.” she said, looking down at her outfit, “I … kinda … wanted to try out something new. I hope it’s okay.” “It sure is!” I replied, still feeling slightly stunned just from looking at her. “Please…” I said, pointing a hoof at the seat opposite to me, “Have a seat.” Fresh Coat replied with a soft nod, her sweet smile resting on me as she sat down. “So…” she started after a moment of silence. “What about you? How have you been doing?” “Great!” I replied without having to think about it. Indeed, the mere thought of being here, with her, made me feel more giddy than I had been in a while. “I’m doing great,” I repeated, “What about-” “Well, would you look at that?” I was cut short by the waitress walking up to our table with a light chuckle. “Little Romeo has found his Juliet after all.” she gave a short laugh, turning her head to look at my ‘Juliet’. “What’s your name, girl?” Fresh Coat looked at the waitress, giving her a somewhat forced-looking smile. “H-hey Cinnamon. Long time no see, huh?” The smile slipped from the mare’s face, and her eyes widened with disbelief as she seemed to recognize who was sitting at the table with me. “Fresh Coat!?” she asked disbelievingly, “Is that you?” “Yep.” Fresh Coat replied a little coyly and nodded her head, “It’s nice to see you again.” “Damn girl…” Cinnamon said amazed, looking the unicorn mare over, “You look … fancy!” Again, Fresh Coat blushed lightly looking to her dress. “Thanks…” she muttered, “I … kinda just … felt like trying a new style.” “Huh.” the waitress huffed, looking at me, then back at Fresh Coat as another one of these shit-eating grins grew on her face. “So Fresh Coat finally has a real date, huh? Heh...” she gave her a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Told you you can’t avert relationships forever. There’s always a point where feelings get involved, no point in fighting it.” She paused, turning back at me and looking me over with a calculating glance. “But hey, at least he seems somewhat decent. Definitely not the worst you’ve shagged so far.” I could feel myself blush as I wanted to say something, but was cut off by Fresh Coat who burst into a calm, but hearty fit of laughter. “Oh no.” she said, giggling, “Oh no, don’t worry. This isn’t a date. We’re just here as friends.” She focused on me with an entrancing, charming stare and winked. “Right, buddy?” I deadpanned, surprised that she seemed so certain about this. Sure, I had come here expecting a lunch among friends; a continuation of this fun evening we had shared last week, but the way she looked: the way she had dressed up for this occasion… I couldn’t deny that I felt a pang of disappointment hearing her affirm that this was really nothing more just a lunch among friends - and nothing more. My thoughts came to a halt as I heard a dry chuckle come from the direction of the waitress. “Yeah, sure,” she said sarcastically giving Fresh Coat that smug grin. “Keep telling yourself that sweetie, but don’t forget to invite me to your wedding.” she said with a wink, then turned away to continue her round through the restaurant. I turned to look back at Fresh Coat, unable to hold back a smile at her slightly puzzled expression. She shook her head, then gave a slightly forced chuckle and said, “so yeah, that’s Cinnamon. Sort of the head-waitress of this place. She used to be good friends with my mother and I’ve known her ever since...” she paused for a moment, reflecting. “Ever since I can remember, actually.” Again, she forced out a chuckle, “Don’t mind the teasing though. She tends to do that from time to time.” she explained with an excusing smile. “I could tell.” I replied, working on a grin as well. I was still more than just a little confused by her behavior - was Fresh Coat just seeing this as a date or not? Sure, she had said that we’d be just friends, but the longer I looked at her dressed-up form, the harder it got for me to believe that it was just a date. But I shook my head ending that train of thought right there. Yes, her behavior had been a little confusing, and yes, I had no idea how things would go from here, but no matter how this day would turn out, I was here now. I was here with Fresh Coat who sat there in front of me. So as far as I was concerned, everything was still possible. “So,” she idly began. “So,” I answered. “Waffles?” “Mhmm, Sure.” she nodded affirmatively with a smile. I smiled back at her, but caught myself frowning soon after for just a second. What would this be? Like… a twenty dollar dent in my savings? Maybe more? Could I even afford having lunch here? The Phrase, ‘you're really only spending money on another stallions wife,’ popped into my head at that moment. But I quickly shook my head, brushing that thought off. Yes, I wasn’t necessarily swimming in money, but of course I could afford a simple lunch! Heck, I was spending time with what could potentially be a new friend, maybe even more, and that alone was priceless. Feeling the smile return to my face, I turned my head away, looking for the head waitress and motioning her that we were ready to order. “So?” Cinnamon asked as she stopped in front of our table, reaching for the notepad she was carrying behind her ear. “What can I get you two lovebirdies?” Again, I could feel my heart beat a little faster, but couldn’t hold back a grin as Fresh Coat shot her friend a sinister look. “I’ll take the waffles, please.” She said, ignoring the waitresses teasing. “Mhmm.” Cinnamon replied with a nod, giving her a knowing grin, “Extra whipped cream?” “You know it.” Fresh Coat replied with a wink as Cinnamon turned towards me to take my order. I ordered waffles as well, and with another comment, offering us to light up some candles or put on some soft rock to ‘fuel the flames of passion,’ Cinnamon turned away, leaving us sitting opposite each other in a somewhat awkward silence. Well, not real silence. We did share a bit of small-talk or exchanged the one or other offhanded comment every now and then, but our conversation was far from fluent which eventually made way for actual silence. A silence that felt like it dragged on forever that only became interrupted by Cinnamon's return only a minute or so later, carrying with her two plates filled with delicious-looking waffles. “So…” I started an attempt to finally get the conversation rolling properly just as Fresh Coat picked up her fork to dig into the pile of waffles on her plate. “Had any interesting experiences with customers recently?” It seemed like an innocent enough comment but the dark side of my mind took it a bit out of context. In an instant, my eyes widened thinking that that's just what she thought too and I hastily added, “I-I mean experiences as in… experiences! Not rutting them!” Fuck my life... “No! I mean n-not like... I think you would rut all of your customers, but…” I cut myself off, facehoofing and letting my head sink with a heavy sigh. “I mean…” I started another attempt, looking back up with a forced smile, “Nice weather outside, isn’t it?” Her expression was frozen pre-bite, with her mouth wide open as her waffle-cladden fork levitated just half an inch away. Slowly the fork lowered and her mouth closed. She looked down as if to think for a moment, and at this time I thought I had done myself in as expected. However, instead of her scolding me on the spot with the fury of tartarus springing forth with lasers from her eyes, she instead chuckled. Then laughed. Soon she was hysterically laughing just across from me, shaking her head and softly pounding her hoof on the table in an effort to express herself. Was it something I said? I mean there wasn’t much I had said, just one very prominent half-witted remark, but how could that be funny? I had practically involuntarily called her a slut. With a few heads turning our way she began to control her laughter, and finally looking to me with a grin on her face she said, “Alright, I’ll lay it down for you. I’m not exactly a saint, ya know? Sure I tried to...” she glanced around and saw a mother with a colt sitting all to themselves just across the aisle, so she leaned in closer, holding a hoof up to her mouth and continued, “...do the sex with you, buuut I mean it's not every customer I meet.” “Well then.” Her transparency surprising if not remarkably pleasing in an odd way. “Why me?” I asked. “Ha, I could practically feel you looking at my....” Lowering her voice for the colt’s sake she whispered, “ass. You weren’t too subtle about it either and you know, if one’s up for it and they don't look too bad then why not?” “It's what I’ve been asking myself,” I openly admitted. “Oh yea,” she said in remembrance. “Guess you’re just playing hard to get, right?” I casually nodded because I knew if I verbally answered it wouldn’t have been so convincing. “So what is this then?” I asked. “Just a date right?” “Well, I thought it was your intention for it to just be a date, ya know?” I mean it was either the alternative or the solution to keep her around. “You think you might woo me, right?” she said as she twiddled her fork around with somewhat of a charming smile. “Taking me on a date, paying for breakfast, actually getting to know me. I mean you're doing more than most would even bother. I mean I could admire that but I hope you’re not getting the wrong impression.” “What do you mean?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow as I finally took a bite from the waffles myself. “Well,” she began. “I’m not exactly looking for anything long term. Ya know?” She said that last part a bit more caringly as if to not rip the bandaid clean off that I hadn't even known was applied. Bu - ut there it happened. Off it came. Raw and painful. “Oh,” I mumbled and suddenly I didn’t feel like eating waffles and instead began looking around for champagne. I didn’t know what my plan was exactly; just take her on a date and that was it. Dates don’t guarantee life-long companionship and I should have given that sentiment much more regards than I actually did. “Hey, don’t look so blue now,” she said, keeping up her cheery-ish tone of voice. “How ‘bout this.” My ears perked up at the beginning of her proposition. “Since you insisted on treating me so nice how ‘bout we spend the rest of the day out together? Ya know, just you and me together and out walking, talking, having fun, messing around and perhaps... Mhmm just perhaps, I may even give you a second chance tonight.” She ended that last part slowly and in a seductive tone of voice that probably flustered the mother of the colt just across the aisle. Fresh Coat’s point was then driven home when I looked up to see her take a -and for lack of a better word- fuckin’-hot-sexy bite of her waffles. Taking it from the fork, holding it between her teeth before she slowly munching down and beginning to slowly, carefully and sexily chew in a way that definitely peeked my interest and something else a bit more interesting too. “Waddaya say?” “...” “Well?” she said, tilting her head, letting her hair drop down as she took another slow, amazingly hot bite of her waffles. “W-waffles.” Boy am I slick, just call me an oiled up bowling alley and start kicking some home runs. She laughed tossing her hair around before saying, “Yes, waffles.” And with a smile she said, “Let's eat and maybe I can finally hear you name.” As it turns out taking a bite of waffles myself had been a bad decision, as I almost choked on them in that moment. Staring at her with my eyes wide in surprise, I burst out, “Are you cereal!?” then promptly blushed, looked to the side and corrected myself, “I-I mean … are you serious?” Fresh Coat replied with a soft giggle. “Wow, haven’t heard that one in a while.” Not leaving me time to reply, she added, “But yeah, you haven’t told me your name yet. I’ve come to just call you...” I said nothing, blankly looking at her for a moment and reflecting. Could this be? We had been talking non-stop for several hours that evening in my apartment, and I had never once introduced myself? I let my look wander up to the ceiling, recalling the events of the evening. She was right. I had never even once mentioned my name. “Oh. You’re right.” I said out aloud as I looked at Fresh Coat with a partly surprised, partly embarrassed look. Not missing a beat this time, however, I stretched out my hoof in her direction and said, “Hey, my name is Blank Slate. Nice to meet you…” I cocked an eyebrow as if I were reflecting upon what her name was, “New Layer, wasn’t it?” Fresh Coat looked at my outstretched hoof, then back at me. Surprise was written across her face, and for a moment, she seemed legitimately hurt that I didn’t seem to remember her name. Then, however, she saw the grin forming on my face and her tension vanished, making way for a relieved smile. “Got me for a second there,” she said with a soft chuckle, then reached out for my hoof and shook it. “Nice to meet’cha Blank Slate. They call me Fresh Coat.” “Ah, now I remember. Nice to meet you Fresh Coat.” I replied with a chuckle, “What’s a mare like you doing in a place like this?” “Oh, you know…” she said, leaning back on her bench. “Just hanging out with some guy I met some time ago. He’s cute and all, but I feel like he’s just trying to get behind me. Can you believe that?” she said in mock-anger. “These stallions, I tell ya. All just thinking with their junks.” Despite knowing that we were both just kidding and that, in fact, she had been the one looking for some quick fun, I could feel myself blush. After all, especially during the first couple of minutes after meeting her, I had been a literal slave to my worldly desires. Regardless, I did my best to not let it show and we shared a short laugh together. “So…” Fresh Coat spoke up again after our laughter faded, “Wanna get going?” I looked at her in surprise, but she just pointed at the empty plates sitting between us. “The diner closes in about half an hour, and I wouldn’t want Cinnamon to work overtime.” “Uh, okay.” I said, mildly surprised, “Do you have an idea where we could go?” “Nope,” Fresh Coat replied with a smile, shaking her head. “Why would we need some place to go?” she turned her head to the side, pointing a hoof to the window next to us. “This is Manehatten. We’ll just find ourselves a place to go.” She turned back to me and smiling again, “Sound good?” Again, I nodded numbly. “Uh, okay.” Feeling a smile form on my face as well, I replied, “Okay, ya. Let’s do it.” *** A few moments later we were walking through the streets of Manehatten, side by side. It was late afternoon by now, and the rush-hour traffic that had filled the street before was starting to calm down. I had nothing to prove it, but I liked to imagine that ponies around us were looking at us, thinking about what our deal might be. Maybe even suspecting that we were a couple. A tickle of excitement ran through my body at that thought. Yes, we were just friends -for now, anyway- and Fresh Coat had made it clear that, if anything, the only thing I would get from her would be a quick, meaningless shag, but a nice guy could still dream, right? I looked over at Fresh Coat who was walking alongside me with that relaxed smile back on her face. You’d almost think walking the full, busy streets of Manehatten had a soothing, relaxing effect on her. “So…” I spoke up, having to raise my voice to talk over the ponies and carriages passing by beside us, “Where are we going again? Do you have anything … special in mind?” Fresh Coat looked at me, a smirk forming on her face. “You’re not from the city, are you?” she asked me slightly amused. “Uh, no.” I replied a little confused, not sure how this was related to where we were going, “I grew up in a village way down south. Moved to Manehatten about a week ago.” “I could tell.” the mare replied with a chuckle, “You’ve got ‘village-foal’ written all over you.” “How so?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow. Again, Fresh Coat smirked, “Please.” she said with a flick of her hoof, “It’s obvious, really.” I looked at her in silent confusion, but before I could inquire any further, she tilted her head to the side and said, “Come on. Let’s get ourselves a place to have a drink if you’re so dead-set on doing something productive.” “I, uhm…” I wanted to protest, but couldn’t deny that I liked her proposal. I liked walking the streets of Manehatten as much or little as anyone else, and it might have been the ‘get down to it’-attitude that village-life had hammered into me ever since my foalhood speaking from within me, but walking around aimlessly, no matter how good my company might be, just felt wrong to me. So, finally, I gave a curt nod and a quick, “Okay.” before looking around and searching for a place suitable for us. My eyes fell onto a small bar on a corner with various tables and chairs in front of it. “How about this one?” I asked Fresh Coat, pointing a hoof at the place. Her eyes wandered over to it, and I could see them widen for a split second. A barely noticeable shudder ran through her body, and she quickly shook her head. “N-no, this…” she stuttered, “This place isn’t that good. I, uh ... I’d “rather not go there again.” I looked at her, cocking an eyebrow, then back at the bar. “Why?” I couldn’t help but ask. This place looked pretty cozy after all. “Long story.” Fresh Coat replied curtly. “Used to go there quite often with a…” she bristled, “Friend, but we’re not friends anymore and that place just brings back old memories.” her face looked surprisingly somber for just a second, but she quickly shook her head, brought that positive smile back onto her face and, with an inviting gesture, pointing down the road, added, “Come on, let’s go someplace else.” “Uh, okay.” I agreed hesitantly, following her as she took the lead, walking past the cozy-looking bar without so much as looking at it. My look went back to Fresh Coat, raising an eyebrow. What was that all about? A friend? I opened my mouth, wanting to ask her about that, but then caught myself. Whatever it was she associated with that place, it would have probably been impolite to ask her about it. Besides, if she wanted to talk about it, she would bring it up it sooner or later, right? *** “So, what actually brings you to Manehatten?” Fresh Coat asked as she leaned back in her chair next to me. We had found another bar a few minutes down the road - styled to look like a beach bar, it was adorned with small sun shades and beach chairs standing ready on the sidewalk. To be fair, the sticky, dirty atmosphere of Manehatten was almost the exact opposite of a sunny beach destination, but the chairs were comfortable nonetheless, and the two cocktails standing on a small side table between us were -despite being rather pricy- quite delicious - and pretty strong, as the blur growing in the corners of my eyes and my increasingly drowsy mind confirmed. My companion turned her head to the side, shooting me a sly grin. “And don’t you tell me you’re ‘driving tourists around on a motorboat’. I didn’t buy that the first time, I’m not gonna buy it now.” I blushed a little, thinking back to these kinda awkward first moments we had shared together. “Uh, yeah, no that’s…” I looked to the side, rubbing a hoof against the back of my head, “not entirely true. Actually, nevermind. It’s not true at all.” “No shit, sherlock.” Fresh Coat replied with a grin, “Now let’s hear it, how do you earn your sandwiches?” she said, giving me a teasing smirk. “Well I…” I started hesitantly, “I’m an architect.” That gained a genuinely amazed look from Fresh Coat. “Oh, really?” she asked, her face lighting up. “Yeah, well…” again, I hesitated, “Not a full-blown architect. Not yet, that is.” “Oh, so you’re in school? Studying?” Fresh Coat probed, sounding genuinely interested. “Uh…” Again, my reply was rather short. “I, uh … I’m self taught, kinda.” “Oh.” Fresh Coat said, less excited this time. “I see.” “Yeah…” I replied, nervously fidgeting with my hooves. What had she expected? A star-architect? Designer of the Pony of Liberty? “I didn’t get any big jobs yet, but…” I bit my lip, wondering if I should tell her about something that was so hard to imagine. “I’m planning to participate in a competition. There’s a new school being built over in Bucklyn, and they’re still accepting submissions, so…” I swallowed nervously, “I’m planning to send in a draft I’ve been working on for some time now.” I paused, chuckling dryly, “I mean, it’s going to get rejected anyway, but hey, a guy can dream, right?” To my surprise, Fresh Coat replied nothing at first. She looked me over with a dry, somewhat pitying glance, then let out one a long, heavy sigh and turned her head back. Her horn lit up and she took a long sip from her Piña Colada. “What's wrong?” I asked slightly confused, tilting my head to the side. “Let me guess…” Fresh Coat said with another sigh, “You came here, moved to the big city, looking for fame and fortune, right? Dreaming of fast money, easy fame and all that.” I blankly stared at her, replying nothing. Where did that come from? It wasn’t entirely true, success was more like it. “I know you do. We all do.” she said somewhat wistfully. “If I’d get a bit for all the ponies I’ve met who came here because they’ve heard of streets paved with gold…” she took another long sip from her drink, her look resting on the glass, “That would be champaign. And that,” she pointed at her dress, “A Rarity Original, and not part of the clearance sale at Mare-cys for twelve bits.” Again, all I could do is stare at her in silence. Was she drunk? “It, uh…” I stuttered, trying to say something positive, “it does look good on you.” Fresh Coat turned towards me, her cocktail still levitating in front of her face - the glass was almost empty by now. She was frowning, her face matching her somber words, but I was sure I saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards for just a second as I complimented her dress. But she shook her head, her expression darkening again. “Point is, this damn city is merciless. You have big dreams? High Hopes? Manehatten is gonna chew ‘em up and spit ‘em out like a damn chewing gum on the sidewalk.” she said bitterly, “These streets ain’t paved with gold, they’re paved with broken lives and dying dreams.” she looked me in the eyes, her beautiful magenta irises looking dark and somber. “They’re paved with ponies like you.” she explained, “Good ponies, nice ponies. Ponies who came here searching for their fortune, but ended up somewhere in the gutter.” her face darkened, “Or six feet under.” Again, I swallowed silently. If I had expected anything from an intoxicated Fresh Coat, this most certainly wasn’t among these things. “Trust me…” she concluded bitterly, downing the rest of her drink and slamming the glass back onto the table, “The best you can do is bury your dreams while you still have them. Otherwise this fucking city is gonna do it for you. Believe in somepony, rely on something, and they’re gonna fuck it right in front of your eyes.” she spat out, gaining a few disgusted looks from passersby. She leaned forward in her chair, letting her head hang low, her mane concealing her face entirely. I just sat there petrified. Really, of all the things I had expected to happen, this was not what I had foreseen. I wanted to comfort her; invite her to talk about whatever it was that made her say or even think these kinds of things. But before I could think of a good way to handle this situation, Fresh Coat straightened herself up again, wiped her face with a hoof and gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.” she apologized, “I … I don’t know what came over me.” “It’s fine.” I hastily assured her, “I’ve heard of that too. … That life in Manehatten is hard and all. I just thought that…” I bit my lip, “Maybe things would be different in my case. I mean, I’m not after a lot of money or fame, I just want to…” I shrugged, “I dunno. Live my life.” Fresh Coat replied nothing to that. She just looked at me with a touched smile on her face, and I thought I had seen a tear in her eyes. Then something unexpected happened. Out of nowhere, Fresh Coat shot forward in her chair, leaned over to me, flung her forelegs around me and gave me a tight hug. “Thank you.” she whispered into my ear, sounding genuinely thankful. “F-for what?” I asked back, not prepared to deal with this sudden change of situations. “For being you.” the painter said, breaking the hug, pulling back and looking me in the eyes, “You’re the only pony I know who still believes in what they dream of. Please,” she pleaded, “Promise me you’ll never give up your dreams. Follow them, no matter what! You’ll be the best damned architect this city has ever seen!” “Uh, t-thanks?” I forced out, too overwhelmed with what was happening to think straight. “No, I should thank you.” she said, leaning her head closer to mine. I could smell the alcohol in her breath. “You’re the nicest, kindest guys I’ve met ever since…” she cut herself off, shaking her head, “For a long time.” “Uh, okay?” I replied, cocking an eyebrow. I honestly didn’t really know what to say to that. She giggled sweetly. “And you’re so funny!” she added. “Uhm, you know…” I hesitantly began, softly shoving her off of me, “I think you might have had enough alcohol for now. Maybe we should just-” I was cut short by what was probably the biggest surprise of the whole evening. Heck, of the whole week. My mouth was flooded with remains of Piña Colada, taste buds overwhelmed with the taste of pineapples, coconuts, but most importantly rum as Fresh Coat shot forward, pressed her lips against mine and kissed me like I had never been kissed before. I tried to struggle; to fight it, and to gently push her away. I really did. But it was futile. As much as my mind wanted to struggle against it, all my body could do was give in, and enjoy. And Celestia damn me, but I was enjoying every second of it.