I was in 6th grade in 2011.
A regular P.E. class was in session. The choice for the entire class was the usual dodgeball or outdoors. Everyone would raise their hands whenever the P.E. teacher decided that the choice was ours, and we’d popularly praise the sun.
Despite my woes against solar rays as a boy of the indoors, I concurred the same. It’s better than being lobbed with solid rubber. A video that recorded several broken noses on the internet could attest to that, and there were plans to replace the old dodgeballs to appease the vicious parents.
I would change to my red gym clothes, walk out the door to the open greenlit field, and then be invited to basketball with a rambunctious group of friends that I found myself belonging in. After a few hoops, I would find shelter under the shadow of the school building to the side as I watched the rest of them play their game, wearier and sweatier than I should be for a boy at that age. The routine easily assimilated into me despite my short time in Arkway Middle School.
But that day in particular was different.
I was daydreaming to combat the heat before I realized that the blacktop’s rhythm of bouncing rubber stopped. I squinted through the glaring rays of the sun. A crowd of red gym clothes gathered around a hollow center. There’s a voice I knew, words that I recognized. I hopped up to go find out what the commotion was about, but my every step went sluggish in heart-beating anxiety—It’s like I knew something’s wrong.
When my shoes met the burning asphalt, another voice joined the fray.
“G-give it back! That’s mine!”
The boy’s weak and terrified voice itched my predatory instincts to join in on the fun. I forcibly shook my head at the thought as I pushed on through the dank smell of recess with unapologetic excuses. It wasn’t the time to troll like in 4chan.
“Then try and take it from me!”
When I broke through the crowd, I was conscious of the eyes on me as I entered the open space. The attention-grabbing red of my gym clothes shining on the sun didn’t help. But when I focused ahead, I raised a brow at what I saw.
There were two kids. One was pale as though he had never been outside his entire life, and the other, standing menacingly over the scrawny kid by a few inches, was my best friend for the year: Ron.
Ron was a popular guy. After his growth spurt, he took great advantage of it. With a sharp jawline and a talent for sports, the middle schoolers revered the guy for winning them games. However, no one understood how his ego clung to that popularity, how he sought to keep those looks in their eyes.
Very few people could ever bother to keep up with my autism. When I first came to Arkway Middle School, it was no secret that I habitually shitpost even in real life. Hardly do I go outside. Kids being kids, it’s little wonder my peers ignored me. But Ron was different. He’s respected for his talent of keeping up with the trends, and that meant memes, too. We spoke each other’s language. Together, we became the crudest middle schoolers of the campus, utterly inseparable.
The poor little kid jumped up and down in desperate attempts to take back an iPhone from my friend’s tan hand high over his head. Ron was flicking it higher in sick amusement each time the kid got close.
“Ron? What’s going on?” I called.
When Ron saw me, his smile warmed up in spite of his cold actions. “Ah, bro! ‘Bout time you got your butt out of the shade. Catch!”
I scrambled to secure the iPhone in my grasp. It’s warm to the touch. But when I looked at the item in my hand, my throat lumped dry. On the smartphone’s case was a cheap sticker of a cloud and a rainbow thunderbolt protruding out, daringly arced in its zigzag.
Just as I fully comprehended the true meaning of what’s in my hand, the kid snatched it from me in my distraction.
The kid clutched the thing protectively against his chest in a death grip. He flickered his head side to side, only find himself imprisoned by a wall of onlookers enjoying the first bit of drama of their school lives in weeks. With his smaller frame, the thought of barreling through seemed impossible. There’s nowhere to run. He’s stuck in the circle with Ron and me.
“Aww! Dude, way to ruin the fun,” Ron whined. “You’re supposed to throw it back to me.”
“Yeah, yeah, um,” I nervously pulled the neck of my shirt for air, “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“What?” He looked at the frightened kid, who started with a step backward, and then back at me. “Are you trying to defend this guy?”
“All I’m saying is that the teacher is going to notice. Detention sounds like shit.”
He rolled his eyes. “Mr. Lock just went back in to get a drink. He won’t be back for another few minutes. Come on, grab him from behind. I got something funny in mind,” he said smirking.
The devious look on Ron’s face scared the kid to blue. When he stepped back, he realized that I was right behind him. He snapped between Ron and I, claustrophobic as Ron closed the distance in slow agonizing steps with a hand outstretched to spook the shorter kid. Rather than the bully in front of him, the kid faced pleadingly at me for mercy.
I just stared back in dispassion and took a brisk step forward. The kid flinched and clutched tighter his iPhone, but he was left untouched as I brushed past him. Suddenly, I was between him and Ron. “No.”
Ron’s smile dropped. “What?”
“This isn’t right Ron.”
“Did our basketball hit you in the head? This is just a joke! We do this all the time, y’know. Why so hung out about it now?”
I shook my head. “It’s not funny this time. Unlike the others, he’s innocent.”
Ron turned in disbelief to a group of boys, our friends with basketballs in their sweaty palms. “Are you hearing this, too?” Their unresponsive dumbfoundedness to the question showed, but they nodded. He looked square in my eyes as if searching something. “Man, what the hell? The guy’s cancer! He likes ponies for fuck sakes!”
“You know I post ponies around, too. What’s so different about me and him?”
“Well, duh! You’re not an actual brony! Nothing like those gay furries. You just troll people and shit.”
“Well…” I looked away. “Not just that anymore,” I muttered.
The bigger boy froze. He did a double take. “Wait. The fuck? You’re one of them now?!” The way he said it made me wince. “That’s bullshit! Tell me you’re joking, man. I’m not going to deal with that right now!”
“Look, I’m sorry, but that’s how I am now. And it’s not much of a big deal as you think!” I quickly added, glancing briefly at the stupefied brony behind me. “I just like ponies. That’s it. Nothing worth a shit to write home about. We can still be friends.” I smiled lazily, hoping that it would placate Ron and we’d get on with our day. I believed that our loyalty would help him look past my new found hobby just this once.
But in 2011, in the era when bronies and haters were at each other’s throats to the point of absurdity, I was too naive.
“That’s a lie and you know it—you’re obsessed with ponies!”
“What are you saying? That’s not true!”
“Is it?” he challenged. “You don’t know what an otaku is! Not my movie references, not Call of Duty—not even Star Wars! You use their memes and barely know a thing about them! Face it, ponies are the only things you know!”
My fists clenched. “There’s nothing wrong with ponies!”
“It’s for little fucking girls! Magic and cheesy friendship and shit that I know for a fact you don’t believe in. Get that through your head!”
“We’re bros on the internet! We trashed on Facebook, made flame wars on Youtube and even in /pol/! We’ve laughed and dicked around about worse shit than this!” My eyes narrowed. “Come on, bro. Don’t be a bitch just because you can’t stomach the skittles.”
“If you really believe we’re still bros, then it’s either me or him!”
“I…” The disbelief broke through the dam and grasped my aching throat into silence. I glanced at the brony, his smartphone loose in his grasp from the drama before him, and then back. The yelling ceased, but the pressure from the audience only heightened. It was utterly quiet before I let out a haunted whisper. “Ron, you’re really making me choose?”
The steady steel in his eyes was no illusion. “Yes.”
My eyes snapped open, and I was back to the blissful darkness of Luna’s night. The beating in my chest slowly but surely calmed to a dull roar in my ears before muting entirely. When I realized that my wings sprawled on either side of Twilight’s spare bed were definitely real, I breathed out in silent relief.
It wasn’t a dream. I didn’t have those in this world now that I took control of my dreamscape. They’re pure memories, sudden flashbacks. I didn’t fall asleep at all, even with my new comfortable bed.
Ever since my hobo bed lost its life, Twilight was kind enough to offer a spare. My previous argument of maintaining privacy between a stallion and mare like ourselves was rendered null by my baser instinct for sleep.
At the opposite side of Twilight’s study, the unicorn herself purred in her own bed. The moonlight through the balcony window shined the pink stripe of her lavender mane, her head sunken in the fluff of her pillow. I may have imagined it, but I saw her lips parted to the syllables of the word “books.”
On the floor next to Twilight’s bed, Spike’s fluffy basket bulged along the perimeter as his limp body displaced the inside. His blanket accentuated his belly. The drake’s head turned, eyes covered by a frivolous blind, and muttered a name. Who he was dreaming about was evidently, to my brony eyes, a certain marshmallow pony with a penchant for fashion.
Assured that no one noticed my “episode”, I turned to the stars and counted them in dread of wandering to those memories again. Princess Celestia was sure taking her sweet fucking time.
Revisiting Lessons - Chapter 6
Season 1. Ep 5
Griffon the Brush Off
Today was a quiet day in Golden Oak Library. Twilight, Spike, and I faced inside, oblivious to the great atmosphere that Celestia’s sun shined upon outside.
Neat towers of at least a dozen books were strewn around Twilight’s table, three open beneath her hooves and one in her magical grasp, of which her eyes traced each line with laser-like focus.
Spike was less so. Sitting on a stool, only a single tome was in his claws, and a page whimsically turned. His own space was bare of anything else.
And there was me. My head laid over a foreleg on the table as I stared at an open book, which was propped up by a small stack of three other thick tomes. My wings lazily draped across my back in a long deserved break from page-turning now that my hooves obtained the awesome power of grabbing things. In a nutshell: lethargic.
I yawned, utterly destroying the silence that I fought so hard to keep.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe you should stop staying up so late to read books,” Twilight said, leaving her pages. “You look...exhausted.”
“Says you,” I weakly replied, refusing to abandon my text. “At the very least, I’m staying in today. I won’t be doing anything too strenuous. Besides, this normal for me.”
Spike glanced up from his text and raised a brow. “Looking like a zombpony is normal?”
“Spike…” Twilight said sternly.
“What? It fits him way too well.”
“I can see that,” I said, flipping a page. “I might be a genius from eating all this brain food.”
The lavender unicorn gave me a look. “You’re reading a cookbook for foreign delicacies. Upside down.”
“Yeah, see? A genius who can read upside down.”
Our conversation was pierced by a thud on the doorway leading to the outside. My head perked from where I laid.
“Newspaper?” With renewed vitality, I creaked to a trot toward the door. Opening it, the texture of ink and paper greeted my hooves. I smiled. “Newspaper.”
Soon, Hobo Book Bed shall rise again.
Twilight stifled a giggle behind her open book. “You’re always excited for the local newspaper. Anything good?”
“Not really. They’re pretty boring.”
“Boring?” Spike commented. “Ponyville has, like, a party every other day!”
“For the daily news, yes. But for the weekly paper, it’s old. The dailies took all the juicy stuff. The weekend news would only rehash it, so we’ve taken to call it Summary Sundays,” I said, flickering through the folds. “But a recent addition to Ponyville spiced it up for the past month.”
“And what’s that?”
Stopping at a page, I showed it for Twilight and Spike to see. “Me.”
“'Breaking News: Local Zombie…'” Twilight’s eyes widened. Under the bold lettering was a poor picture my face gobbling a hayburger like a savage. “'...Madly in Love? Tutorial Blues, the mystified zombie of Ponyville is without emotion or life, trotting around our home ever since he took refuge in Golden Oak Library.'” She peered past the newspaper. “Since when were you a zombie?”
“Since always. But when I came back ‘from the dead’ after Celestia announced my passing, it somehow validated the rumor. I feel like it’s Rainbow Dash’s fault.”
“O-oh. Is that so. ” Twilight coughed nervously, and then continued where she left off, blinking. “'However, a breakthrough with this mysterious zombie has come to light. It has been confirmed that he’s tamed by unrequited love with—!'” She gasped, and in her disbelief, snatched it from my hooves. “Pinkie Pie, Applejack and me?! It even says here that this in your own words!”
Spike chuckled sheepishly. “Eheheheh. I remembered that.”
Twilight intensely scanned the inky lines. “To quote, you heartily said, ‘They’re special to me,’ in response to an inquiry of your unnatural unhelpfulness to them by a ‘brave citizen’. Half of the entire town witnessed this on the same day we finished Applebuck Season!”
“Okay, I don’t remember that. Neither did they even say I was the one who asked!”
“Spike’s right,” I said. “That’s kinda racist.”
“That shouldn’t be the only thing you should worry about! They’re slandering you with speculation of rumors that aren’t even true!” Twilight suddenly blushed. “T-they aren’t true, right?”
“Make me answer, and I will force feed you the pages of this library’s cheesy romance novels as payment.”
“...I-I’ll take that as a no. But how are you okay with this? This is serious!”
“Twilight, when I saw my first Summary Sunday here in Ponyville, I was termed the Necromantic Minion of Everfree’s Enchantress. It was so ridiculous, I couldn’t tell if I should laugh or cry. For my sanity, I chose the former. Hehe,” I chuckled dryly. “As Lord Kek decreed, one must learn to take a joke.”
Twilight tilted her head. “...Kek?”
“Oh oh! I know! Tori told me that Kek is the hyper god of primordial darkness and laughter. He is a legend of an occult of Tori’s home far, far away!”
“Thank you, Pinkie,” I deadpanned. “Couldn’t advertise my religion without you.”
The pink mare bounced to my side with a grin. “No problemo! That’s what friends are for!”
“Oh, so that’s how it is,” Twilight said, satisfied. A pause. “Wait, Pinkie Pie?! Since when did you get in here? How did you get here?”
“Just now through the door, silly. What else?”
“I...I, uh, w-what?”
I smirked at Twilight’s dumbfounded face, but I turned to greet our guest. “My awesome religion aside, what brings you here, Pinkie?”
“Well, you see…” Like popping a balloon, she stopped bouncing and deflated. Pinkie found my eyes, her own in confliction. “I, um, I need some advice.”
My jaw clenched as Twilight and Spike looked at each other.
Ponyville was very active on the weekends. Ponies would be on break for work, and the pleasurable services such as the Ponyville Spa and Sugarcube corner would get busy from the influx of customers. However, I hardly ever go outside on the weekdays, not in my past life and not in this world. The latter wasn’t by choice though. The ponies were always quick to notice me, and wherever I go would easily go vacant even at the expense of businesses in the general area. It was utterly ridiculous. And hilarious.
In first few days in Ponyville, I once went out to have a taste of what hay and other pony foods were like. It wasn’t worth the trip. The waiter had enough steel to take my order, but my food was cold by the time it arrived. The restaurant I visited went unhealthily vacant for days.
From then on, I bought and cooked my own food. Well, except for that time I went to that on the Hayburger joint on a nostalgic whim during Applejack’s episode. It’s probably still empty.
It’s to the point that the only time they don’t turn tail and run was whenever it involved requests, their permission to let me work for them, and my pay. Well, after I chased them down to a corner to make such discussions, albeit one-sidedly.
I knew edgy Human in Equestria fics with less of an overaction than this, and that’s when the main character was in human form. I never thought this would happen to me as a pony. In a nutshell, I was a nuisance, or a menace at the worst, to their weekend fun.
And today...wasn’t that kind of day. It still amazed me how a fedora from Rarity’s Boutique, a pair of sunglasses, and a tattered scarf I found in the trash could make me utterly invisible to these ponies. Besides looking like a dignified hobo, my disguise shouldn’t have worked. At all. They’re fucking retarded, I swear. Normally, I wouldn’t care to make the effort, but for Pinkie and Sugarcube Corner, I’ll spare them the trouble just this once.
I noisily slurped my milkshake, my payment for counseling Pinkie. “I heard you went on a pranking spree yesterday.”
“That’s right! If only you’ve been there and used your mind reading skills to help us out. It would’ve been super duper fun!”
I raised a brow behind my shades. “Oh? Did my invitation get lost in the mail then?”
“Well, I, uh…” Pinkie sadly looked to the side, rubbing her poofy mane. She sighed. “Rainbow disagreed.”
“Still trying for me, I see. When will you ever learn?” I’ve given up on socializing weeks ago. While it’s touching that Pinkie continued to make such lengths for me, her efforts going to waste irked me. Despite myself, I wanted her to succeed in her endeavors. A sip from my straw and the sweetness alleviated my bitterness slightly. “She said I was lame, didn’t she?”
“There you go again, reading my mind,” she murmured. “Yeah… She did say that. Why can’t everypony be friends with one another? She’s my friend and you’re mine, too! I don’t get it.”
“It’s unfair to assume that friends of the same person can get along. Different beliefs, different tastes… Everyone has their own definition of a friend. Rainbow doesn’t see that in me. The same goes for Gilda to you. Apparently, she doesn’t see you fit her mold either.”
“Then we’ll make them see!” Pinkie said. “We’ll be the super best bestest friends they'll ever know! We’ll be like the frosty to their cake, the icing to their cupcakes, the crust of their pies! We won’t let them deny us—!”
I shoved the straw of her own untouched milkshake into her mouth. It calmed her down, and she drank the concession by instinct. “Stay frosty there, Pinkie.”
Pinkie’s straw popped out of her mouth after a large slurp, and a heavy sigh followed. “Maybe Twilight is right. Maybe Gilda isn’t a mean grumpy meanie-pants. Maybe I’m just a jealous judgemental jealous-jealousy-pants.”
“‘Maybe’ doesn’t get you anywhere if you can’t find an answer, neither will it make you happy.”
“Then do you know?”
“I have no clue. We got a lot of growing to do, Pinkie, and I just now told you all I know about this sort of issue. Take your time finding the rest of your own answer. You’ll know when you’re ready.”
Suddenly, there was a familiar pair of laughter above us. Looking up, we saw a distinct array of colors, and Pinkie’s eyes shot open as she clung deeper under the umbrella in a panic, colliding with the table. I barely saved my milkshake on time as it bounced into the air, yet Pinkie’s was fine, simply landing upright with no spillage.
Rainbow Dash and Gilda touched down a distance away, and the rest occurred like in the show.
“I gotta take care of a few weather jobs around here,” Rainbow Dash said. “Wouldn’t take long. Just, uh, hang around in town and I’ll come find ya.”
“That’s cool I guess.” Gilda pumped a fist. “I’m going to chow down!”
Dash smiled. “Later!”
After Rainbow Dash hit the skies, Gilda looked around on her lonesome, but when she landed her sights on a certain elderly mare going up toward a stand for vegetables and corn, a mischievous grin glinted across her beak. She hid behind the farming stand, the owner oblivious to her presence, and waited until Granny Smith went to sniff the produce.
I winced as Gilda’s tail snaked up to Granny Smith’s face.
“A rattler! A rattleeer! Everypony save yourselves! Run to the hills!” Granny Smith shouted, and then her creaking hooves carried her in a disappointingly snail-like pace.
I would chuckle at the silliness of it, but, sitting beside Pinkie, I knew it would be in bad taste, especially at my Zap Apple savior. The griffon swiftly left elsewhere after insulting the freshness of the stand owner’s produce.
My hooves swayed to walk up and tell Granny Smith that everything’s fine, but knowing my place, I forced them back down. With the ghastly reputation I harbor, any sudden movement from me would agitate those nearby, the elderly farm mare included. Even with my disguise, the ponies would notice the moment I speak. I gulped as I watched my savior of this life trembled away.
“That’s mean! Granny Smith didn’t know it was a joke—no, no, Pinkie. Don’t judge, don’t judge... It was kinda of a funny prank. Isn’t that right, Tori?”
I shook my head and pointed. Pinkie’s gaze followed. Gilda leisurely passed by another farm stand where some ponies talked and, with a stealthy motion of her tail, stole an apple right under their noses. The griffon cleared the fruit in a single crunch and a gulp. Not a single bit was paid for as she leisurely walked away.
Pinkie gasped. “I can’t believe it! That’s thievery!” She slammed the table, and I had to save her milkshake as well. Suddenly, she turned pensive as she sank where she sat. “O-or maybe it’s just a joke? She’ll pay it back later, right?”
And right on cue, my ears flickered to ducks quacking, and so Fluttershy entered the streets just as her ghost did in the scene of my memory. The towns ponies smiled at a trail of ducklings dawdling with their mother in an innocence that stole their hearts, led by the animal caretaker as she trotted backward to meet the mother’s eyes. She was in her element despite the surrounding gazes that she would usually shy away from.
And Gilda, meanwhile, was in the way. The griffon made no motion to step aside and then Fluttershy bumped into her.
I sighed, knowing what’ll come next. If some of my brony brothers from back then knew I just stood and watched, they’d be disappointed in me. My teeth tightened at the thought. Damn those Fluttershy fags and their pony waifu.
“Hey!” Gilda snarled.
“O-oh! Please excuse me—”
The griffon strutted forward. “I’m walkin’ here!”
“I-I’m sorry, I-I was j-just—…” Fluttershy backed away, scared into a stammer, but the angry bird followed. Shocked, confused, and the little ducklings scattered into a frenzy, the mellow mare’s eyes glistened like a puppy’s. It was so real for a cartoon that my scarf suffocated me as I watched.
“‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’” Gilda mocked. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, doofus!”
“But I-I…—” Fluttershy choked. The words died in her throat as Gilda glared seethingly at her. The griffon inhaled.
The damnable angels in my head won out in their nagging.
“Woah, woah, woah, whoa!” Before the damage was done, I was suddenly between them and they both jerked back in surprise. “Can’t get feisty out here. Wouldn’t want a fight to break out in public, now can we? Ponyville appreciates peace, you see.”
Gilda’s eyes sharpened hawk-like. “And who are you?”
I shrugged my wings along with a milkshake in hoof, the pose hiding Fluttershy from Gilda’s view. “I’m nobody. Just a humble hobo of the neighborhood.”
“Is that right? Well, ponies like you have no right to barge into my business.” Gilda made to hustle past me. “I’m not done with her—!” But it was to her confusion that I refused to budge, a hoof braced against her chest. “You trying to start something?! Get out of my way!”
“Look, I get it,” I deadpanned. “You’re a long way from home and probably haven’t eaten in a while. I get that you’re cranky. How about we calm down with a milkshake.” I offered up a milkshake to Gilda with a wry smile. “My treat.”
“H-hey!” Pinkie blurted from the sidelines. “That’s mine!”
“It’s for a good cause,” I shot back.
“I don’t want your stupid treats, dweeb!” Gilda’s temper was too fast for her to take notice of our banter. She took a deep breath.
I braced myself before an unholy lion’s roar rang from my face to across the streets. Even though my tattered scarf fluttered, my shades went ajar, and my fedora fell off to the side, I stood stone-faced. Manny’s roars could do far worse.
The ponies around gasped, and it was then that I noticed my blasted back mane, the bangs splayed back to reveal the nasty bite scar on my forehead. Gilda saw it as well, and her bottom beak slacked.
“You chill now?” I said dryly, shaking Pinkie’s milkshake. “The offer still stands.”
Blinking, Gilda looked away. “Tch! I-I bet you’re the, uh, boringest of all in this town. You’re King Lameo of Lakeville! I’m bailing. Later, losers.” A mighty flap of wings blew a few of my hairs, and Gilda soon disappeared into the clouds.
“...Odd. Even her? Hm. Doesn’t matter right now.” I breathed in relief. It’s childish comments like Gilda’s that I’m reminded that this world was still just a cartoon. I rubbed my mane so that it’s back to its scruffy self, covering the scar before I turned to Fluttershy. “You okay—…?” She’s gone, and so were the bystanders. A tumbleweed crossed the street as only the wind responded. My pony feathers twitched, and I embraced a cold calmness. “Well fuck you guys, too.”
Pinkie Pie hopped to my side, concern and irritation on her face. “That’s just rude.”
“Me, Gilda, or everyone else?”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, I was then forced into a Pinkie Promise where I will never sell out her sweets without her permission ever again. Sugar really was serious business in Ponyville.
Inside Sugarcube Corner, an assorted amount of streamers and balloons of many colors decorated the ceiling. Yet, despite the impressive party, the preparations weren’t quite done.
But lo and behold, Rainbow Dash busted through the entrance in her awesomeness and hovered along the ceiling before she spotted Pinkie Pie setting up “Pin the Tail on the Pony” on a wall. “Yo! Pinkie! I heard you’re making a party for friend Gilda. How’s it going?”
“Pretty swell, Dashie! I’ve got the cake ready and everything. The party will open up soon.”
“Oh, yeah! Mind if set up some pranks around here? It’ll be real quick, I promise.”
Pinkie nodded. “Be my guest.”
“Great!” Then, Rainbow Dash frowned and pointed. “But why is he here?”
Despite the sudden attention toward me, I continued laying out the confectioneries along the tables without a care. The punch, crackers, and pastries were placed with practiced precision, and I damn well practiced. My hooves served me well but still needed work. “If you must know, Pinkie hired me. I’m just here to do my job. Hostile much?”
“Look, this is my friend’s welcome party and, not to be mean, you kinda...drag down the party.”
“Dash!” Pinkie whined.
“What? Remember the first three parties you threw for him?”
Pinkie pressed her lips and nodded, her ears drooping. “I remember.”
Rainbow bit her cheek at the sight.
“I have to agree with Rainbow Dash.” I stopped what I was doing to face the pair, sensing the unexpected tension between them. “Gilda’s party will go empty if I attended, and then all your work would be wasted.”
“Yeah, what he said,” Rainbow concurred.
“Awww…” Pinkie pouted. “I was hoping he’d get more friends today.”
“I got Twilight and Spike,” I said. “Isn’t that enough?”
Rainbow Dash chuckled. “They live at your place, so I don'y think they count.”
“I keep telling you, Golden Oaks isn’t mine,” I grumbled. “Twilight is basically my land overlord now.” As the hobo of the library, I must give respect to the book pony where it’s due, but it seemed they doubted it. I sighed. “So, you really wanted the best for your old friend, huh?”
Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her neck, done easily despite her flapping wings, yet a struggle for her to meet eyes. “Nothing personal or anything. I know you helped back at the Summer Sun Celebration, but you’re still...you.”
“...is this a rejection or something?”
“Shut your egghead mouth, doofus.”
“So it is a rejection.”
“Look, I’m trying to let you down easy, but you’re not making it any easier.”
“Pfft. You? Your blunt honesty could contest even Applejack’s.”
“Ugh.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
I smiled a little, then stopped to lick my chapped lips. “You’re old friend Gilda came from Griffonstone, right? Griffonstone is far east by the Equestrian border. She really came a long way to meet you again.”
The pegasus’s brow raised. “Yeah? What’s your point?”
“Friends aren’t boomerangs. Toss ‘em all over the place and they’d often never come back, the distance too much of a bother. Gilda crossed that distance for you. That’s not something that can be replaced.”
“Oooh, that’s deep,” Pinkie commented.
However, Rainbow narrowed her eyes. “Replace? Who said anything about replacing?”
“I never meant anything by that,” I said, raising my wings and hooves in surrender. “It’s just that...people change. Besides speeding around with arbitrary races, when was the last time either of you had a proper talk? Get to understand each other after all these years?”
“Talk? Gilda’s cool though. We flew, made some sick tricks, and had tons of fun. Who needs talking?”
Pinkie shuffled nervously beside the prismatic pegasus. “Dashie,” Pinkie spoke tentatively, “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” The prismatic mare furrowed her brows. “What is that you two aren’t telling me?”
“Rainbow, listen.” I got her attention. “You may be the type of pony to depend on when everyone else is gone, but there’s going to be a time where you’re the one breaking bonds.”
Rainbow’s face went hot, and she opened her mouth to retort but...
Ding! Our ears flickered by the noise coming from the kitchen out back, and all the tension was lost.
“Ah. That must be the oven,” I muttered. “Anyone of you think cake that originated from Griffonstone would be good for this party? I found a recipe for it recently, and the author, Gustave le Grand made them sound pretty good.”
Pinkie and Dash looked at each other. “...who is that?” they said in unison.
“...nevermind.” I seriously thought the guy was famous. What a letdown. “Anyways, everything should be ready. I’ll be hanging out in the kitchen if you need me. Ciao.”
“Ooh, ooh!” Pinkie hopped along beside me. “Can I have a slice? I wanna know what it tastes like!”
“Yeah, uh,” Dash began, “I’ll start setting up the pranks then. And hey! Bring me some of the cake, too!”
I groaned at their demands. “You both wait until the party starts!”
After I got the two off my backs, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie went out to greet all the guests. Soon enough, an influx of guests of entered Sugarcube Corner. As I leaned lazily against a kitchen counter in wait, I could only I guess how many ponies were attending, their voices muffled by the walls. It made me a bit antsy, not knowing what’s going on in there despite my knowledge of the episode.
I’ve made some significant points in the timeline today. Something must’ve changed, but I refused to let myself even a peek inside to check. I couldn’t risk being sighted, lurking around the kitchen and be mistaken of poisoning the food.
I looked at my disguise on the kitchen counter. My fedora wore the sunglasses, lying comfortably on a tattered scarf. A white box sat next to it. I stared at the box. Inside of it was a large piece of the cake I baked.
I clicked my tongue. May as well start early.
Opening the flap of my saddlebag with a wing, I carefully set the box inside. My saddle bag was barely wide enough to fit it in, bulging the side. I frowned at the glaring detail, but it’ll do.
Glancing around to see if there was anyone in the kitchen, I snuck out through Sugarcube Corner’s back door exit.
I was due east of Sugarcube corner, and it was there I sat on my haunches among a series of wood-smelling apartments. I was waiting for something. My hind leg was bouncing from my nervousness. I wasn’t sure if this could work to begin with.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. I could already hear the heavy beating of a griffon’s wings. I looked up and saw Gilda tear through the skies so rapidly, it was a wonder as to how I could get her attention before she could fly past. I already had an idea.
I took the deepest breath I could, and then my voice rippled through the air, “Hail to the idol!”
Instantly, Gilda skid to a stop in the air and twisted about, looking around the ground wide-eyed until she spotted me. She assumed a bored look as she stared down at me from above. “Oh. It’s you. You know Griffonstone’s pledge?”
“I also know how rundown it’s gotten. I get around," I said boredly. "My offer still stands you know.”
“As if I’d stick around. Get lost, punk!” Gilda spun eastward and raised to her wings for a takeoff.
“It must’ve sucked,” I blurted, and that stopped her, “being denied in favor of those Rainbow Dash knew least.”
Slowly, Gilda turned back to me with narrowed eyes. “...How did you find me?”
“Griffonstone is to the east.” I lazily shrugged. “You were headed home, so I made a guess and waited in the general direction.”
“And now you got me. Whoopty-doo. What do you want? This place bugs me, so I’d rather get this over with,” Gilda said, crossing her arms as she landed on a cloud. She sat still and I relaxed, glad I could persuade her for a talk.
“To make a delivery, you could say.” I fished inside my saddle bag and procured a white box. Simple and plain, but it held a surprising sense of wonderment. “Cake from the party. I hope it’s to your liking.”
“Another prank? No way, I’m not falling for another.”
“No, no pranks. The cake isn’t a lie,” I added with a wry smile. “I just thought after that fiasco with Rainbow Dash, you could use something to improve your mood.”
“Don’t pretend you’re on my side! If it came down to it, you’d stick around with your stupid pony friends.”
“And you’re right.” In just those three words, Gilda’s eyes widened. “I would choose ponies. Even if it hurt, even if it'll cost whatever else I valued, my choice won’t change. But what about you? You came this far, but you hit a fork in the road. What will do you now?” I waited for an answer, but Gilda looked away and I knew I won’t get one. “Tell you what: The best part of a prank is the reaction, right? So how about I leave you to your dessert and I’ll come back later to get the plate. I won’t see anything, I won’t laugh at anything, even if there’s a prank. I promise. Sounds fair?”
“...Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Just following Pinkie’s example and try to give the guest of honor a good time. Nothing wrong with that.”
Gilda scowled. “Tch. Is that what you want me to believe?”
Another awkward pause happened between us, so I understood that the worth of this conversation just waned off. I silently turned to leave like in my promise.
“You’re different from the other ponies,” Gilda suddenly blurted, “nothing like them. Not a bit of that lame pony cheer either.”
I huffed. “Tell me something I didn’t already know.”
“Well, that scar of yours was pretty wicked.”
I paused blinking, not believing what I just heard. When I realized her words were real, I smirked. “Enjoy the food, Gilda,” I said, walking away.
I took a deep breath as my mind wandered to resume a memory that played last night.
The silence was my answer.
It’s as though Ron saw me for the very first time. In an instant, I was a stranger.
“So this is it, huh?” Ron said. “I can’t believe it. You just met him. You’ll be moving away again in a few weeks to the other side of the country and then it won’t even matter. And for what? Ponies?” He scowled. “It’s just a cartoon.”
“Ron, I—”
“Go drown in your obsessions, brony. I can’t believe you changed. Let’s go guys. He’s not our bro anymore.”
The basketball group I’ve come to know risked a glance toward me, but they knew where their loyalties lie. They parted a path for Ron, and they trailed behind.
With no drama to stay for, the crowd of bored middle school students dispersed as though the entire exchange was meaningless. But I knew better. They’d talk about it for weeks knowing they had nothing better to do. It was silent enough that I could hear the brony’s shaky breathing behind me.
The brony spoke. “H-hey. Thank you.”
“Yeah. You’re welcome.” I kept my back to him.
“So, uh, you’re a brony too? Wanna hang out? I-I mean if you want to. It’s just that, uh, it looks like nobody else wants to play with us now. We should stick together in case Ron and his groupies come for us.”
“They won’t.”
I heard the brony’s pockets shuffle, likely to put away his smartphone. “How’d you know?” he asked.
“Because I know Ron.”
The brony winced. “I-I’m sorry about that by the way. I, um…” He awkwardly paused, but it lasted too long and the subject died entirely. I was fine with that. “Still, uh, wanna hang out?”
“...you sure about that?” I said. “I won’t be here anymore in a few weeks you know.”
“It’s the least I could do for you.”
I paused for a moment and smelt the cool air. The sunlight went dull minutes ago, but for some reason that made me feel better. I turned and smiled at Ron’s replacement. “Alright. Sure.”
Hours had past and it’ll turn to evening soon. The party ended minutes ago. Although, Rainbow and a few other pegasi had to leave early for a sudden call of weather duty. The weather ponies were busy, even on weekends. Ponies beside myself were headed home, but I was on a detour. I trotted to where I left Gilda to retrieve the plate as planned. When I got there, however, I stopped.
Rainbow Dash was there.
On the cloud that Gilda previously occupied, she rested on her haunches, her back slouched. Her back faced me, but her depressed ears tight against her head told all the emotion I needed to know.
The empty plate on the grass caught my eye. It’s likely Gilda finished dessert just in the nick of time for Rainbow Dash to find her while on weather duty. The two avians had a proper talk while I was gone, I deduced. That alone made me smile.
The sky rapidly turned orange. I looked down at the plate in my hooves. It was wet, and not a crumb was left behind. It was so shiny from the saliva that I could see my reflection on it. I gave myself a satisfied nod. And so, I headed to Sugarcube Corner to return the plate.
Maybe by this, I could sleep soundly tonight.