She rushed forward, towards the lights, dim and high on the ceiling, as she came to. There was somepony at her side. Why? She was lying on the ground.
"You okay?" somepony said, the pony at her side, the pony she knew. Vinyl Scratch was standing over her, a concerned expression visible even through her shades. They were in the middle of a clear circle of floor, ringed tightly by other clubgoers.
Moondancer's mouth was dry and her head ached, "What happened?" A burning rose in her as she noticed all the gazes focused on her.
"You passed out and collapsed. Right in the middle of the dance floor"—the tips of Moondancer's ears at that point were only a few degrees short of incandescence—"Have you been feeling sick? Did you drink anything weird?" Vinyl, who had remained conscious and so was really the one who ought to know more about the situation than Moondancer continued to ask questions.
Moondancer moaned, her headache multiplying in strength, "Something called a...galloper?"
Vinyl swore under her breath and cast a glare towards the bar. She looked cute when she was mad, Moondancer realized.
She let out a big sigh. "Fine. You're gonna be fine, just—Celestia dammit." She put her hoof to her face. "Alright, let's get you home."
"Why?" Moondancer smiled, "You said I'm fiine."
Vinyl looked her in the eye. "You ever been really drunk before?"
The way Vinyl was talking it sounded like there was a problem. Moondancer didn't feel like there was a problem. She felt great. Why would anypony think there was a problem? Problems were for—they were for—ponies who didn't feel great like her. She began lecturing, explaining this to Vinyl.
"I'll take that as a no," Vinyl said, "Seriously, though, There's no way you know what you're getting into. Imma get you out of here before you do something you regret." She extended a hoof and pulled Moondancer up.
Moondancer stood, but it seemed that somepony had made the floor all wobbly while she was out. She stepped and staggered forward. It was as if she was weightless, and her hooves hadn't realized it yet. It was kind of fun. She took another big step, but was checked by Vinyl's hoof.
"Easy there, girl. Just come with me. We're gonna have a great time," she said.
Vinyl was a cool pony, so Moondancer listened to her. She was, Moondancer was sure, an expert on having a good time. She had clearly done lots more research on it than Moondancer had. She started to say so.
Vinyl led her outside. It was nice out there; it was cooler and there was something different—her head wasn't pounding so much. Vinyl turned and yelled something inside the club. Then she return to Moondancer's side.
"I'm a grown mare!" Moondancer said, "I know how to walk." She took a few steps forward, proudly keeping her eyes fixed on Vinyl. Her back hoof had barely left the ground when she stumbled. She caught herself, but only just, and Vinyl did not give her a chance to try again.
Oh well. Moondancer continued to talk about how much better Vinyl was at this sort of thing than she was. Like, was that a party she was at in there? Moondancer hadn't been to a party in ages. Couldn't even remember the last time there had been one without birthday cake, or that somepony she knew from school hadn't invited her to.
So it was pretty cool that Vinyl was there. Did she go to those things often? Oh wait, yeah, of course. She had said that that was her job so obviously. Plus that cutie mark. Wow Moondancer was silly. Not silly but out of it. Was this what being drunk was like? She had never drunk anything before. Well obviously she'd drunk things before but not like drunk drunk. But anyway being drunk was weird.
Now where was she? Parties. The cool kind, not the other kind. Were there other kinds? Political. Like she said, the cool kind of party. So as parties went, was that a good party she had been at? Surely some parties were better than others. Oh, she really knew nothing about the topic. What were the elements of a good party? Or at least, what were the major camps? Moondancer supposed that, even if she didn't know much about partying, it was a pretty safe bet that the ponies who did didn't all agree. She would definitely have to research this, but for now what could Vinyl tell her about the subject?
All the while as they walked, the night air moved around them. It was cool compared to the confined atmosphere of the club, but soon its own warmth became apparent—it was summer. The cobblestones, which had been baking in the sun all the day, were like gentle coals, heating the city now that there was nothing else to do it.
Moondancer's rambling voice carried easily through the calm air. Under the influence of the alcohol, she fell into lecturing, and a stream of thoughts that had previously only found an outlet in ink (and that carefully hidden from the eyes of ponies) was given voice. She would regret it in the morning, not because there was anything regrettable in it, but simply because it had happened. If ponies had been meant to share their thoughts, they would have been given the ability to see and hear them directly, instead of the clumsy methods that were available. A part of her remembered that, but only a small part, so she kept pontificating.
As for Vinyl, she just walked on silently. She just listened to Moondancer. If she minded, any of it, being dragged out of the club to escort Moondancer home (even if that had been her own initiative), the current rambling, or simply having to support the pony leaning against her, Moondancer did not notice. She hummed something but was otherwise quiet. Nopony was asking any questions here.
Between her and Vinyl's fortuitous meeting, and Moondancer knowing her neighborhood well enough that her intoxication could not obscure the way, they soon arrived at her house.
"You know," Vinyl said, looking up at Moondancer's house, "normally I'd say a pony like you should get out more, but man, maybe that's bad advice after all. I could see you were about to charge horn-first into trouble."
"What are you talking about? What was I gonna do? Lecture somepony's leg off? Besides, with a pretty unicorn like you around, what could've happened?" Moondancer said, slurring her words ever so slightly.
"Do you not remember the part where you passed out like ten minutes after walking through the freaking door? In the middle of the place." Vinyl shook her head. She paused. "Wait, what was that last part?"
Moondancer walked up to her front door. "Well we're here." The cheer that had been in her voice the whole way suddenly evaporated. She unlocked the door aggressively.
"You don't sound very happy about that..."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Moondancer said, snorting—almost snarling—, "I'm back home, aren't I? Back in the one place that doesn't make me want to scream—you know, how normal ponies feel everywhere."
"Whoa, hey, calm down." Vinyl said.
"Easy for you to say. You didn't make a fool of yourself in front of a bunch of strangers!"
"Make a fool—. Moonie, it's a club, ponies pass out there all the time. You think you’re the first one who's ended up in over her head in booze there? Nah, they might be annoyed that I left, but I let 'em know they could thank Shot Glass for that. So don't even worry about it."
This mare, she just didn't get it. "It wasn't that. I mean, it wasn't just that. It was everything. Just freaking being there was bad enough. You don't understand. You wouldn't."
Vinyl stepped into the doorway with Moondancer and put a hoof around her shoulders. "I get it, Moonie. So you're shy, there's nothing wrong with that, nothing to be asham—"
Moondancer rolled her shoulders, throwing Vinyl's hoof off. Her teeth clamped flat together, to push off firmly into: "Don't call me 'Moonie.'" She shook her head. "I just told you you don't understand. Didn't you hear me? Do I need to explain everything to you? Do I need to explain to you how it feels not to even be able to go outside without feeling like everypony is looking at you and judging. So I hide, here, in the library. I hide in my books; they don't judge me."
Moondancer shuffled inside, and Vinyl followed. She lay down in the middle of the floor, amidst a pile of books. After a moment's hesitation, Vinyl sat herself down next to her. A pulse of magic from one of their horns—Moondancer could not remember whose—closed the door. "I have friends," she said after a while. Lonely silence she could handle; the silence of two ponies felt almost malevolent. "At least, I think I do. There are ponies I know, that I knew from school, and they say they're my friends. I'm not sure if they really are. Sometimes they come over, but never for very long. There's just something—I'm always glad when they leave, not because they do anything they're just there. But I kinda wish they would come over more often. It's lonely here. I'm lonely.
Vinyl did something weird then. She raised her head and looked around the room, as if searching for something. "You got a record player?" she asked.
“Uhh,” Moondancer had to think for a second. That was weird, she knew what she had. But, “no, I don’t think so. Why?”
“So we can put some music on, of course! Dang though. It always helps me unwind.”
Vinyl lay back down. She was quiet for a few more long moments. But somehow it wasn’t so bad. Moondancer had feared the silence, but her dread was never able to latch on to anything and retreated, to wait for a more vulnerable moment. But for the time being…
“You know, I’m kind of jealous of you, from what you’ve said,” Vinyl said,
Now that was just ridiculous. Moondancer may not have been talkative or argumentative, by Celestia help her if she was going to stand by and let somepony be jealous of her. “What are you talking about? You just—you don’t know me.I’m the saddest pony ever. I have no friends. I have no job. I just read books all day, and then write about the things I read. And nopony but me cares, or even knows…” Moondancer covered her face with her hooves. “I’m just—oh Celestia.”
“And what, you’re jealous of me with all the ponies cheering for me?” Vinyl snorted. “I ain’t exactly in a great place myself, not gonna lie. Like, I dunno. A marefriend would be nice to have, but everypony’s all like “I’m not ready for this right now” and “I don’t think this is going to work out.” I’m seriously tired of it.
That was surprising to hear. “I would have thought getting a marefriend would be easy for you,” Moondancer said.
“Me too! In my work I oughta be up to my horn in creeps, at least, but somehow I don’t even get that. I mean, guess I’m not really complaining about that, but, somepony!”
“Who was that mare you were with the other day then? When I saw you in Ponyville.”
“You remember that?”
Moondancer waved her hoof. “Look at this place. Does it look like I get out much.”
“Guess not. Anyway, that was Octavia. She’s my roommate. She’s cool and all—she’s in the Royal Orchestra and everything—we’re good friends. She’s just not, you know, gay.” Vinyl glanced over at Moondancer. “You gay, Moonie?”
Moondancer let out a long sigh. As lightheaded and bouncy as the alcohol was making her feel, a heaviness came over her. “Yeah. For the longest time I had a crush on “Princess” Twilight. But that… well it didn’t work out.”
“Dang, sorry to hear that. But yeah, the annoying thing with Octy is that ponies see us hanging out together and think she’s my marefriend.”
Suddenly she yawned loudly. “Oof, what time is it?” Moondancer didn’t keep a clock in her living room, so Vinyl found nothing as she looked around. She shook her head. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be doing much more tonight. Mind if I crash here?”
Moondancer was feeling pretty sleepy herself, watching Vinyl. Between that and her intoxication, she didn’t see any reason to say no. “Sure.”
“Awesome. Thanks,” Vinyl said as she curled up right on Moondancer’s floor. “Don’t worry,” she muttered, drifting off, “you’ll find a special somepony, cute mare like you…”
Even drunk, Moondancer’s habits were deeply ingrained, and she stumbled off to her bed. Or, that is what she must have done, because that is where she woke up.
Moondancer regretted waking up. Her head was pounding, and malaise filled her body. It was well past noon when she managed to get herself out of bed. Unsurprisingly, Vinyl was gone by then.