//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: The Artist // by P-Berry //------------------------------// “So?” Fresh Coat a bit drunkenly but happily began. “So,” I returned, not quite sure where to take the whole conversation at first. We had finished with our little moment at the bar and with plenty of time left in the day -hell it was... only six- she decided to take me to the park. I wasn’t in any place to decline, especially after that kiss she gave me, but I was still constantly second-guessing myself and her. It could have been because I never quite made it to first base or even had the chance to bat, but with any luck, who knows, I might just slide on into second head first. But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself because nothing ever was officially declared and I didn’t wanna jump the gun either. I kept thinking back to when she kissed me and it, upon reflection, wasn’t quite as clear cut as I may have thought. She kissed me because she thanked me for being myself. Even though she wasn’t shagging every stallion, she did get around, so maybe her perception of a mutual relationship was a bit overgeared. However tragedy stems from doubt and I wasn’t by any means doubting. I just didn’t want it to end too badly with me. I mean if we ended up as friends then that would at least still leave me on the board if she ever decided to come around, unlike her one night stands she had alluded to. Screw them. I was already doing better in score of one date, one passionate kiss and one stroll in the park with Fresh Coat the one and only. “Y’know…” Fresh Coat started as we entered the small, rundown park, leaning against me, “‘s been awhile since I’ve had this much fun. You’re pretty good company, you know that?” I just smirked, blushed, and remained silent. She chuckled to herself. “I still can’t believe you ditched me that other night though,” she added, and if it hadn’t been for my own alcohol-level being a tad too high, I might have noticed the faintest touch of hurt in her voice. However, even that was quickly replaced by teasing as she continued, “Honestly, for a brief moment I really thought you were… y’know…” she threw a suggestive wink at me - or at least tried to. It seemed the alcohol made her forget that winking required only one eye, not both. “Fishin’ in your own waters. If you know what I mean,” she slurred, patting my shoulder. It took me a few moments to understand what she had just implied, but by the time I had understood and began readily preparing my counter statement she swiftly added. “Buuuut of course, that couldn’t be,” she affirmed with a broad, silly grin on her face. “The way you’re staring at my ass…” she cooed sweetly, “I knew you wanted some.“ “Speaking of which…” she began again, as her eyes became as bedroom-y as the alcohol would allow. “You still owe me a good shag. How about we … go find ourselves a nice place and … and … uhh…” Once again seeming lost in her own thoughts, she reflected for a moment, then cast a questioning glance at me. “What were we talking about again?” I grinned back at her with an equally silly smile on her face as my mind went over what she had just said. Wait, she was drunk. She was pretty fine ten minutes ago, but I think now the rum and alcohol was really beginning to take effect as strong as a curb stomp. I wasn’t doing to fine either, but I still had my senses and as much as I liked strolling around, if she wasn’t fully drunk yet then it just might get worse later on in public. “Freeesh,” I began as I felt myself slur just a little. “A-are you dru- too drunk now?” I’m a bit of a lightweight it turns out because I didn’t even drink that much. …At least, that’s what I thought. “Mhmm… no. No Blaank,” she said, throwing herself over to me. Her mane fell over her eyes as she tilted her head in a cute sort of way. “I’m not druuunk,” she playfully slurred. I didn’t particularly like the nickname ‘Blank’, but shit I was drunk and hearing her say it actually felt appealing. After all, getting a personal nickname from her put me yet another peg above all her other one-night-stands of which I was sure she didn’t even remember the names of after a few hours. I chuckled to myself and threw a hoof over her neck and said, “Yes you are.” “Nooo,” she whined. “Comeon, where's your home?” She gently pushed herself away from me and laughed, “Hehe, not so fast Cowboy.” she threw a suggestive wink at me, “I’m wornt take you to my place. I can find m-m-myself home.” Personally I found her slurs to be cute, but honestly I think we were garnering a bit of attention from passersby. This was a public place after all, but I felt a little concerned for her walking home all alone - especially in her current state. “I-I-are you sure?” I asked, but damn my head was pounding. If anything I might be offed myself by a running cart on my way back to my apartment. “You kinda drunk.” “A little drunk, Blank, just a lil’... drnk.” Gently pushing me away, she looked down the roadway and back to me with a genuine smile. “I’ll be fine.” Her head bobbed a little, but the fact that she could stay on her hooves was probably a commendable feat. “It's not like I never been drunk before.” “Mhmm,” I took it into careful consideration, but she was most likely right, and I was sure that she had done it before, but still… that was dangerous. “A-are you sure?” I carefully asked. She attempted to reassuringly pat my cheek, but it came off more as an involuntary slap. I liked it. “Awm sure,” she said with a smile as she began to slowly back away in a playful doggy crouched way with her rump in the air. “Bye cutie.” Ouch, my heart. She just called me cutie. “B-bye Fresh Coat,” I forced out, feeling my heart go all sorts of crazy from the thought of her calling me cute. But along with the pleasant pounding in my chest came a painful throbbing in my head. I was still a bit very drunk, but for some reason I felt like the sun was to blame for it. So I looked to the left of the path, searching for some cover from its assault on my eyes. With one quick glance around my surroundings it finally rested on a bench perfectly shaded by the canopy of trees that arced over the direction of the path but lacked the motivation to actually do their goddamn job and cover the whole walkway. Before sitting I looked back to Fresh Coat, pointed to the bench and said, “I’m going to have to sit down.” “Mhmm, okay.” She winked and turned around. I could feel my mouth run dry as she began shaking her plot in rhythm to her steps. I felt reminded of this afternoon when we had first met. I didn’t know if she was doing it on purpose or if it was just a side-effect of her drunken state but even then, I didn’t know if she was just playing with me or actually trying to seduce me - again! In public! But regardless of what I felt for her and what she might be feeling for me, I couldn’t get my eyes to leave her behind. True, I should know better than to stare at her like a zoo-animal before feeding time, and I couldn’t deny that small, bitter lump of guilt forming in the back of my throat as I looked at that admittedly magnificent body of hers. My eyes travelled over the dress engulfing her form, and I noticed only now how… tight it looked from this angle. It did keep her dignity and didn’t look one bit slutty, but with those curves of hers, not much was left to the imagination. I swallowed, blushing as a wave of heat washed over my middle region. I had to fan myself with a hoof just to keep calm. I didn’t know if she had some sort of sixth sense for noticing stallions looking at her ass, or if she had just been very attentive, but not a second passed before Fresh Coat turned her head back, focusing on me over her shoulder, shook her butt seductively and called, “Don’t enjoy the view too much!” I straight up blushed and I had to look around to make sure nopony else was looking, but even though this was a public place and ponies were everywhere, they all seemed too absorbed in themselves to actually notice - thank Celestia. “No promises,” I called back, trying hard to play it cool as I casually sat back and relaxed. At least here I could see if she made it out of the park alright and didn't fall or hurt herself in any way while I sat comfortably by myself. She carried herself semi-decently, but I probably would have thought otherwise if I wasn’t semi-decently drunk. She was walking -or rather staggering- for a good minute until her walk was interrupted. Though, contrary to my expectations, it was neither because she had tripped and nose-dived into the grass, nor because she had collapsed and fallen asleep on the ground. No, the reason why she had stopped was because a stallion in a black, shady-looking trench coat interrupted her stride. Sure, I normally wasn’t a guy who was quick to judge other ponies, and in those few weeks I had lived in Manehatten I had learned that the worst most undignified thing one could do was judge ponies on how they looked, but despite my resolution to be more open-minded, I couldn’t deny that I had a bad feeling about this buck. I knew it might have looked a little creepy, and I was worried that Fresh Coat might get the wrong idea if she would have seen me, but driven by my hazy but paranoid mind, I slowly got up from the bench and drunkenly stalked over to the two ponies as stealthily as my blurry vision and shaky legs would allow. Luck seemed to be on my side. Though, as Fresh Coat was standing with her back facing me, that stallion seemed too focused on her to even notice my presence. I walked up to the two, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, and stopped about a yard away from them, perking up my ears and eavesdropping on the conversation from behind the trunk of a tree. After a brief moment of eavesdropping suddenly the haze in my mind was gone, and I was feeling wide awake again and alerte again as I listened to this buck’s proposition to Fresh Coat. My Mare! “So, what will it be, cutie?” I could hear that guy say in a raspy, but sly voice. “Made up your mind yet?” “Uhhhh…” Fresh Coat slurred, “I… don’t do HT. ‘s bad for your health, y’know?” The stallion chuckled dryly. “No worries, darling. I’ve been doing it for ten years now with no side effects. Well, except for the good ones.” He reached into his jacket, seeming to search for something with his hoof, “So what can I get you? Whatever you want, I got it all here.” Fresh Coat looked up, tilting her head to the side as if she were reflecting. To be honest, I wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t noticed me yet. What I was surprised about was that she was still standing on all four hooves. “I like chocolate pudding,” she finally purred, her look going back to the stallion, “Fix me up that, will ya?” The sly grin slipped from the stallion’s face and he glared at the intoxicated mare. “You kidding me, filly?” he asked dryly, but then shook his head and forced another grin onto his face. “Come on, I got it all here. Horse, Horse Heads, Horse Tracks, Horse Tranquilizer, Horsebite … just say the word and I’ll…” “There you are!” Finally, I stepped in. Yes, I knew that I shouldn’t judge ponies based on how they looked or what they said or what they were trying to sell to my intoxicated friends, but I also knew that my mother had warned me about these sorts of ponies before I had moved to Manehatten, and unless there was something Fresh Coat was keeping from me, I didn’t see any reason why she should be talking to this guy any longer. I had never heard any of these names, but none of this small talk sounded legal to me. Casting an excusing grin at the confused stallion, I put my hoof around Fresh Coat’s neck and said, “Sorry, I’ve been looking for her all over the place.” Fresh Coat turned to look at me, a dorky grin forming on her face. “Hey sweetie. Back so soon?” she asked sweetly, wiggling her eyebrows, “Couldn’t stand being without me, huh?” “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” I quickly put her off, trying to gently but decisively pull her away from the shady stallion. “Sorry about that.” I said, giving him an excusing smile, “Good luck with your, uh … business.” With that, I stepped away from him, pulling Fresh Coat with me. To my surprise, she didn’t struggle or even protest. She might have just been too drunk. “Sooo, where you taking me, sweetheart?” Fresh Coat cooed sweetly as we left the park side by side. I didn’t answer her. To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure about that myself. She had proven that I couldn’t let her walk to her place by herself -not without having her buy shady substances from shady ponies- and at this point I wasn’t even sure if she could remember the way back to her place. I let out a sigh. My mind was still drowsy and my head was pounding, but I had to do something. I couldn’t spend the rest of the night walking through Manehatten with Fresh Coat in this state. We had to go somewhere, and since she wouldn’t tell me where her place was, there was only one alternative that seemed reasonable to me. I lifted my head, took one look around to orientate myself, turned and traveled in the direction that I knew led back to my apartment. *** It was early morning when she woke up. The morning sun, softly shining through a nearby window directly onto her face caused Fresh Coat to softly whine and turn her head away. A few moments later her eyes opened again. Her heart rate then increased as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings in panic. This wasn't her bedroom. Well, that normally wouldn't be a reason to be worried. After all, waking up in other stallions' bedrooms was something she had gotten used to over the past months as it slowly became something she didn't mind in the slightest, seeing how that experience often came in combination with a long, hot night of fun. This time, however, things were different. She couldn't hear the soft breathing of her would-be mate aside her. She didn't feel the exhausting but satisfying -and filling- feeling she normally felt after a night of good sex, but most importantly... she slowly lifted her head, looking around. She didn’t even remember how she got here. Carefully, Fresh Coat lifted a hoof, rubbing it against her aching head. Giving a long, tired sigh, Fresh Coat rose up, looking around to figure out where her escapades had led her this time. She was sitting on a surprisingly comfy black sofa, her body half-covered by a soft blue blanket. Her gaze shifted around the room, past the window with the way too brightly shining sun behind it, and came to rest on the wall opposite to her. It was empty, save it for a few shelves with some books in them. She led a hoof to her chin, reflecting as she studied the wall’s blankness. It was white - immaculately clean white, in fact. Yes, whoever must have painted this wall sure must have had a skilled hoof. It was interesting but familiar. Almost like she was the one who painted it. Suddenly it all came back to her. She straightened her body abruptly as she remembered where she was, what had happened, and who exactly was loudly snoring the bedroom down the hall "Oh," she noted. A smile formed on her face as she remembered the pleasant afternoon she had spent with... Blank Slate, right? Yes, the dinner the two had shared together had been truly pleasant, and the walk they had taken through the city together, and the drinks they had shared... "Oh," she noted again. The smile slipping from her face abruptly as tiny bits and pieces of her memory returned. She recalled how she had gotten drunk, how she had vented about the hard, unforgiving life in Manehatten... and how she had kissed him. She suddenly felt herself blush. A reaction she was whole-heartedly surprised about. This most certainly wasn't the first time that she had been drunk but she couldn’t help but feel she pulled off something amazingly stupid regardless. So why did she feel so weird about this whole evening? Yes, it almost felt like she was ... embarrassed. Ashamed of what she had done the evening before. "What?" she couldn't help but ask aloud as that conclusion slowly drew itself in her drowsy mind. But she was never embarrassed! Heck, she was Fresh Coat! She normally couldn't care less about what other ponies were thinking of her, so there was no logical way she could feel embarrassed about what she had done, no matter what it might have been. And yet, here she was. Sitting on the sofa in Blank Slate’s home, hoping for the ground to open up and swallow her right here. She shook her head. She was probably just still a little drunk. So what if she had did some stupid things last night? Blank Slate didn't seem like the pony that would judge her for something like this. And even if he were... well then to Tartarus with him! She was the way she was, and if somepony didn't like that, they were free to go ahead and eat her shorts. She didn't need to explain herself, to nopony! With that resolution in mind, Fresh Coat stretched her forelegs, then arose from the sofa with a soft groan. With slow, shaky steps she walked over to where she thought she had remembered Blank Slate's kitchen looking to get something to drink. Her mouth felt dry almost like the Sahayra-desert. Walking over to the doorframe that led to the kitchen, keeping herself close to the wall so as to support herself if she should fall over, she happened to walk past the door leading to what -based on the sounds coming from there- must have been Blank Slate's bedroom. She stopped, fighting with herself. Normally the procedure when waking up from a one night stand would be to get up, get something to drink, freshen herself up in the bathroom, and then be on her merry way as fast as possible. Just like she had told Blank Slate, she wasn't looking for a relationship and Fresh Coat wasn’t in the mood to teach another lesson on what, 'This was a one night stand, so leave me the fuck alone,' meant. Despite that, she caught herself hesitating. She couldn’t help but ask herself why she wasn’t leaving? If she would stay long enough for Blank Slate to wake up, he might draw the wrong conclusions. He might think that she was after him. Heck, he might invite her to stay for breakfast! Fresh Coat expected to bristle at that thought - breakfast was, as far as she was concerned, the beginning of a relationship, so she had strictly avoided that topic ever since assuming her new lifestyle. Now, however, she was even more shocked that a small but noticeable part of her mind enjoyed the thought of having breakfast with him. He seemed like a nice buck, and she had made it clear that she wasn't after a relationship. So it was all good, right? Nodding her head as if to confirm that thought, Fresh Coat carefully took a step forward, placing a hoof on the door handle, and opened the door leading to Blank Slate's bedroom. A smile formed on her face. There he was. Laying sprawled out on his bed, his body half-covered by sheets, sound asleep. Slowly, bit by bit, Fresh Coat's memory returned. They had been walking through Manehatten's streets, Fresh Coat, completely intoxicated, leaning onto Blank Slate as he walked her home. Seeing how she had never told him where she lived, and she had been too drunk to inform him, it only seemed reasonable that he had taken her to his apartment and prepared a makeshift-bed for her on his couch. Even though Fresh Coat couldn't deny that she was still a bit hungover she still managed realize that he hadn't made a single move towards her. After all, she had suggested that she would give him a second chance, and seeing how she had been utterly drunk and defenseless... Her body stiffened as that thought caused another avalanche of memories to break loose in her head and come crashing down onto her mind. No, he hadn't made any moves towards her. But she had. "Oh mother of Celestia..." Fresh Coat sighed, facehoofing. She remembered now. All the way from the park to Blank Slate's home, she had tried to get him to rut her by all means possible. "Hey, do you know what'd look good on you?" she remembered herself asking shortly after they had left the park. "Me!" Blank Slate had, as far as she could remember now, only replied with a deadpan nod - much to her relief in retrospect. Her look went back to Blank Slate's bed, and she could feel another wave of embarrassment hit her as she recalled jumping onto it in the second Blank Slate had opened the door, laying down in a seductive pose and cooing, "Sweetie, I love you with all my butt. I would say heart, but my butt is Mauwch bigger," while throwing a seductive wink at him and revealing her backside. "Want me to help you unwrap that package you got there?" She couldn't tell if he had actually considered her proposal -or looked at her at all, for that matter- as the next thing she remembered was being picked up by his magic and levitated off the bed and back to his living room couch. Floating through his apartment, enjoying the ride expecting the furious love-making to begin any minute now, she remembered leaning back, spreading her hooves and happily chanting, "My beaver is bored and wants to play, do you have any wood for my beaver today?!" Then she must have passed out on the sofa, as she -fortunately- didn't remember anything else. However, her ridiculous attempts to get into his literal pants aside, she wasn't quite sure how to feel about the fact that she woke up on his sofa and not in his bed this morning. Sure, a part of her mind was disappointed, almost offended, that he hadn't accepted her proposal, in spite of her presenting herself on the silver platter yet again. On the other hand, a much bigger part of her mind felt ... strangely relieved; happy even that he hadn't taken advantage of her. After all, she had been completely at his mercy - he could have taken her home, had his fun with her and then dumped her the next morning. Heck, he could have just as well left her at the bar, at the mercy of Manehatten's nightlife. She had already seen and experienced all this, and the fact that he seemed to care enough about her to not only not leave her by herself, but to also take her to safety and provide a place to crash for the night. As much as she hated it - it really did pull at her heartstrings. A moved smile found its way back onto her face as she looked back to Blank Slate. ‘He's such a cutie,’ she could hear herself whisper. Then she stiffened. No. No, she did not just say that. She did not just say that! No, no, no! She fiercely shook her head, stepping back through the doorway only to noticed with horror that she couldn't take her eyes off the sleeping stallion. He rolled over giving a content dreary sleepy smile as he nuzzled himself deeper into the pillow. Fresh Coat could almost feel her heart flutter as she involuntarily imagined him dreaming of her. Then the conclusion came crashing down on her mind like an anvil dropped from the third floor. She could feel her legs going weak as the words ran through her mind: She liked him. More than other guys too. She was ... crushing on him. Again, she shook her head. “No! For pete's sake no!” she quietly swore. Taking another step back forcing herself to look away. This couldn't be! She couldn't like him like this! Liking somepony like this would lead to love, and love would lead to... to... Fresh Coat forced her eyes shut, blinking away the tears. No, she didn't like him like this. She couldn't like him like this! The pain was still too fresh on her mind. This incredible anticipation when she had stood in front of the altar, ready to commit herself to him for the rest of her life. This... this indescribable, heart-wrenching pain she had felt as he hadn't shown up. ...And this blind, seething, unforgiving fury that had overcome her as she had found out that he had run off with one of her best friends. No, she had sworn herself that she was over these things. Life was short enough as it was, and as far as she was concerned, anything that could threaten this almost omnipresent happiness she had felt ever since her abrupt change of lifestyle was to be ignored. Thinking back to this resolution, Fresh Coat let her gaze linger back to Blank Slate for a few seconds longer before shaking her head and turning away. Yes, she liked him, and she knew that he would be devastated to find out that she had left when he would wake up, but it was for the better. It would be better for everypony involved to have him hurt a little bit now, than to have Fresh Coat hurt Blank Slate so massively like she had been back in the day. With a heavy sigh, Fresh Coat stepped back from the door, walking over to the hallway with slow, heavy steps. This most certainly wasn't an easy way to go, but she was sure that it would save her a lot of heartache in the future. She stopped in front of the entrance door, resting her hoof on the handle, ready to leave this place once and for all, but couldn't help but to look over her shoulder and back at the door leading to Blank Slate’s bedroom. Again, she shook her head. ‘For the better,’ she muttered to herself once more before facing the exit once again That is, until her look fell upon the painting hanging on the wall to her left. The one of a lonely mare standing atop a mountain overlooking the hidden valley below as clouds obscured her vision of the world below. Blank Slate had hung it up. Not only that, but it appeared there was something written onto the frame that hadn't been there before. Slowly, Fresh Coat stepped closer to see what it was. 'Paradise - by Fresh Coat'. A phrase engraven with a golden fill at the bottom of the frame in small neatly carved little letters Again, the mare could feel herself tear up. He had... actually put it up? Her work? She could feel her legs going weak. This was... so sweet of him... and that title too! He shouldn’t have. Again, she turned back to look into his direction, and could feel her inner conflict rising up again. She couldn't just leave. That would break his heart; maybe even destroy his faith in pony-kind altogether. She couldn’t let that happen let alone live with herself if that truly did happen. She’d be a monster. She then thought to herself something that was wholly true to her. ‘ponies as kind-hearted as him are hard to find in Manehatten, and I’d would be damned if I were create yet another heart-less, soul-less husk of a pony living in this city.’ But at the same time, staying with him would mean running the risk of developing feelings for him... and she knew all too well where this could -and most likely would- lead. No, there had to be another way. A way to hold on to him, but with no romantic feelings whatsoever involved. It just seemed right to her but selfish all the same. Reflecting, Fresh Coat put a hoof to her chin. Her gaze wandered over to the hallway, and her eyes spotted a notepad with a pen laying on a small shelf opposite of the entrance. And finally, for the first time since her spontaneous rant last night, that casual grin was back on her face as her horn lit up, picking up pen and paper to begin writing. Not long after she had begun she was already done, gone and away by the time I woke up half an hour later to find said note. However, doing so required me to wake up first. And mother of Celestia, waking up was a bad idea. My whole room was spinning, my vision was blurry, and the pounding in my head was so intense I was sure it’d burst any second. I gave a heavy sigh that, I couldn’t deny, also contained at least a tiny bit of regret. I slowly sat up holding a hoof against my pounding head. Involuntarily or not, my thoughts went back to last night, and despite my head-bursting hangover, I could feel a smile creep onto my face as the biggest and most incisive memory popped back into my head: she had kissed me. Fresh Coat had kissed me! Sure, the mature, sober parts of my mind were quick to remind me that she was drunk and probably hadn’t known what she was doing. And even then, that kiss had probably been a mere sign of amicable affection, nothing to be taken too seriously. But regardless, she had kissed me. And that was something nopony could ever take from me again. Slowly but steadily, my mind went through the events of last night. We had been walking through a park, and she had been approached by some… stallion. My ears perked up, causing the pain in my head to flare once again as I recalled just what sort of guy this pony had been. Had Fresh Coat really been about to buy drugs? Sure, I thought her capable of a lot of things, but this… this couldn’t be. I thought about this again and, after a few excruciating moments of doubt, a feeling relief wash over me as yet another memory popped up in my mind. She had asked the pony for chocolate pudding. She had been drunk; probably too drunk to know what she was even doing. Besides, she didn’t even look like a pony who did drugs. Most who do have matted coats and faded eyes that look overly dull like death itself gave them a big ol’ french, dripping wet kiss on the mouth which looked and was nothing like her. Slowly, with another groan that didn’t even begin to express the ache in my head, I pulled myself out of bed, standing on my four hooves with great difficulty. My mind had by now arrived at the point where we had entered my apartment and Fresh Coat had jumped onto my bed, asking me to join her for some ‘luv-makin.’ I couldn’t help but chuckle as I thought back to her attempts to hit on me. To be fair, she did know how to tease me, and I couldn’t deny that I had been tempted to accept her offer and indulge at some point. However, my feelings for her aside, she had been more like a big, drunk baby last night. I had made sure to get her home safely, and nothing more. Even though that thought prompted a whole new question: Where was she now? I remembered putting her to sleep on my sofa, but that had to mean… I was about to walk into my living room to check for her when I spotted something in the corner of my eye. Something that hadn’t been there the night prior. I know cause my room was pretty bear. Raising an eyebrow, I turned around, and my look fell onto a piece of paper laying on my nightstand. Slowly, doing my best to not fall over my shaky hooves, I walked over to the nightstand, picked it up in my magic and carefully read it over. I found it was from Fresh Coat. She was apologizing for last night, and then she thanked me which really made me feel like a great guy. However what made it even more amazing was that she was up for seconds later this afternoon, at the same park too! We'd be having a picnic or somethin’ and I couldn’t wait but first… I needed more refrigerator items and sAnDwIChEs worth eating. I got ready, opened my door and just as I was about to leave I turned the corner and came to an unlit room in my apartment. I lingered a little looking into it and what might possibly make or break my future and considered if taking another day was worth it. I shook my head. “Its Fresh Coat,” I reassured myself. “I’m almost done and I got plenty of time,” I muttered as I walked out of my apartment door. About half an hour later, I stepped through the entrance of my apartment door again. This time however I was laden with a bag of groceries and fortunately freed from most of my hangover. Following the advice of the grocery clerk who seemed to have sensed my pounding head, I had stopped by a burger joint on the way home and had treated myself to a hayburger meal. As it turns out, hayburgers made for an excellent hangover-cure, and I was feeling maybe not perfect, but way better as I stepped into my kitchen, placed the groceries I had bought on the counter while preping myself to prepare some sandwiches Fresh Coat would be sure to enjoy. As my horn lit up putting myself to work, I couldn’t help but think about the days that already laid written and engraven behind me and feel un-ironically impressed by my current situation. Ever since I had moved to Manehatten a few weeks ago, I had lived rather… introverted. My circle of friends, not having been too big to begin with, had diminished further after I had moved. I wasn’t necessarily a pony to go out and make new contacts, most of my neighbors couldn’t care less about me, and I didn’t have any hobbies worth mentioning. To cut it short, throughout the past weeks, the pizza delivery-pony had become my new best friend. Figuratively speaking, of course - he, just like so many others in this city of ghosts, didn’t seem in the slightest interested in making new friends. Now, however, my relationship-world had been turned upside down. Not only had I met a pony who wasn’t only nice and friendly, but also interested in me. However depending on how one would assess the events of last night, possibly also met a new friend - a friend who, in a world where everything was possible, could very well turn into a future lover. I felt a smile creep onto my face just at that thought accompanied by a bit of giddiness in my guts. Said giddiness, however, was quickly replaced by a shot of adrenaline and a sharp pain as I felt the knife I had used to slice tomatoes cut into my hoof. Being so absorbed in my wannabe-lovestory, I hadn’t realized that the tomato had been all cut up - and that the knife didn’t care if it cut through tomatoes or hooves. Hissing a curse, I dropped the knife, holding my unharmed hoof against its injured twin. My horn lit up, and for once I didn’t regret spending so much time keeping my kitchen clean and tidy, as my magic quickly found its way into the dedicated drawer to pull out some cloth and a few bandages. Cursing beneath my breath I quickly and swiftly magically applied the bandages to my injured hoof, I looked back to the pile of tomato-slices and the now bloody knife. Unintentionally, I found myself thinking back to what my grandpa had once told me. “Watch out,” he had said, “Mares are a dangerous pastime for the worst part. Let down your guard one second, and they’ll hurt you - like a knife through flesh.” Despite the pain coming from my hoof, the now bloody bandages around my foreleg and my loyally pounding head, I couldn’t help but smirk. If this was all the pain a relationship with Fresh Coat would bring me, then I really couldn’t wait for our third date. A few hours later I was standing in my hallway, freshly showered, dressed in a mostly white button-up shirt -the fanciest piece of clothing my wardrobe had managed to produce- and carrying with me my own, personalized picnic basket… which honestly wasn’t much more than a plastic grocery bag, but I’m sure Fresh Coat would appreciate the effort. I turned to the side, looking into a mirror hung on the wall next to me, and gave myself a lookover. I looked… fancy. Too fancy? This was a picnic in the park, not a gala! But at the same time, I remembered all too well what big guns Fresh Coat had hauled out the day before, and the smile on my face went from put-on to sincere. Yes, if she could come to a waffle-dinner in a cocktail-dress, I could come to a picnic in the park in a button-up shirt. Heck, for all I knew, Fresh Coat might be even more dressed up this time. After all… again, I could feel a tingle of excitement in my guts… this was our third date already. Who knows, things might get truly serious today. With that, I gave my mirror-image one last look over and a confirming nod before turning around, opening the door, and stepping outside. As far as I was concerned, this was going to become a day to remember. *** A few minutes earlier, in a small studio apartment a couple of blocks away, a young unicorn mare was sitting on her bed in a rumpled, stained, but fancy black dress, her mane undone, and her face looking nearly petrified with tiredness. What was she doing? Or, more precisely, what had she done? Seriously, all she had been looking for was a quick, fun, but meaningless shag. Was that too much to ask for? Well, seems like it was. Here she was once again. Sitting on her bed, doing what she had sworn to herself she would never do again: thinking on her feelings. Seriously, what was it about this buck? Why was he so dead-set on spending time with her? Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? And most importantly, why didn’t she want him to leave her alone? Fresh Coat let out a long sigh, letting herself drop to her bed. Seriously, she felt like she was back in middle school again, lulling around while thinking about stallions like this. But what else should she do? She had already seen that she couldn’t just leave him behind like this, and now she had invited him to meet again in only a few hours. ‘The third date. This is where it gets serious.’ Cinnamon’s words popped up from her memory; something the older mare had told her many, many years ago - during her first relationship, if she remembered correctly. But this wasn’t a date, now was it? Sure, she liked him, and it was clear that he liked her too - that is, liked her enough to take her home and not leave her to the mercy of Manehatten’s nightlife. But nothing of that meant that what the two had went beyond simple friendship, right? Right? As if by command, Cinnamon’s words from the day before echoed through her head, telling Fresh Coat to invite the waitress to her and Blank Slate’s wedding. Sure, she had laughed about that back then, but now … she bristled. Yes, it had been a joke, and it still was ridiculous to just think about it, but nevertheless, she couldn’t deny that a small, teeny tiny part of her mind… liked that idea. “Damnit!” she swore, sitting up on her bed. What was wrong with her? Weddings were bad! Relationships were bad! Staying with somepony for longer than one night was… was fucking bad! She knew all too well where feelings like these would lead her, and for the love of Celestia, she would rather die than to experience all this all over again! And she wouldn’t let it happen again. She didn’t love Blank Slate, she wasn’t even crushing on him. The two of them were friends, and nothing more! And she’d be damned if there was something wrong with two friends meeting for a picnic in a park on a Saturday afternoon. With that resolution in mind, Fresh Coat arose from her bed, feeling relief wash over her and a smile form on her face. She really was feeling a lot better now. True, the alcohol from the night before was still in her bones, and after coming home and passing out on her bed almost instantly, she had not yet had a chance to take a shower, but now that her inner struggle was resolved, she could honestly say that she was doing better. Letting out a long, relieved sigh, she turned around, looking at her alarm clock standing next to her bed, and froze. She and Blank Slate had agreed to meet in five minutes! She was going to be late! The mare was just about to fall into a sprint and dash out of her apartment just before something became clear to her: This wasn’t a date. No, she was just meeting up with a friend, and all of her friends knew that being a little late was just as much a part of her as painting was or her trusty ballcap. And just like that, her stress was forgotten, and her body relaxed noticeably. Letting out a soft grunt as she stretched her legs, her horn lit up, pulling down the zipper on her dress. The black garment hit the floor with a barely noticeable thud, and Fresh Coat, now back in her birthday suit, walked out of her room and towards the bathroom to take a long, refreshing and relaxing shower. Sure, she was going to be a little late to her get-together with Blank Slate, but she was sure a good-friend like him would understand. Right?