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// Chapter 1 - An Old Friend 
// Story: Dry Spell 
// by StickySyrup 
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Introduction

This is a ponified version of a true story that happened to a friend of mine about two years ago. The name of the club, events that transpired are all true to an extent, the only difference is that I was present then. In this story, I’m not. I shall be the good author and not involve myself in the world of Equestria. I’m not usually into writing shipping, but this story is kind of romantic and I thought it would be nice to share it.
I have decided to dedicate this story to our fellow Bronies (male and female) who may be stuck in the friend zone, or going through a:


Dry Spell



Chapter One - An Old Friend


Celestia’s sun shone bright over Equestria. As always, it reached every corner of her land, illuminated every dark crevice and shone bright; allowing everypony to enjoy their day in warmth and light. There was one place, however, that refused the light entry. Soarin’ sat in his room, curtains drawn. According to his alarm clock, the time was 11:43am on a Friday, but the room was nearly pitch black, and the stallion had nothing to do. He sat on his large leather computer chair, soaking in the deep blue light of the computer screen as he stared into the void; daydreaming. The sounds of fillies playing outside and birds chirping on his windowsill kept distracting him from his conscience sleep. The young stallion span 360 degrees on his chair, looking up at the ceiling. His head began to swirl, making him feel nauseous, but he continued anyway due to the incredible amount of boredom he possessed.

When was the last time I saw any of my friends in the flesh? He though, still looking up spinning. His daydream flicked through the images of his friends. It included a couple of old friends, some new ones too, but his mind eventually finished on Spitfire. He smiled as he remembered his best friend. They had grown up together, gone to the same kindergarten and school. After just both graduating, he felt like she was more of a sister than a friend. He remembered their application to the Wonderbolts, his birthday where he drank too much and she ended up carrying him home, her weird and crazy art that she produced and finally ending on the crazy, bright yellow and orange mane she possessed. He laughed to himself, allowing the memories to swallow his boredom. This lasted for another three or four minutes before a sudden thirst broke him of his trance. With a strain and copious amounts of effort, the lazy stallion got up and slumped down stairs to his small kitchen. After taking a dirty mug in-between his teeth, running it under the tap and filling it up again, he swigged some water. The whole house was silent. His parents had gone on holiday and he enjoyed the lazy lifestyle. Although he was athletic and competitive, it was nice to just slump around for the time being. The sun shone off the work-surfaces, making the room glimmer. It was starting to irritate him so after throwing the mug back into the sink, he walked into the living room, but before he could throw himself onto the sofa, a hard knock on the door made him jump.
Quickly flicking his blue mane back over his head, he trotted over to his large wooden door and after three unlocks, swung it open.
Spitfire stood in the doorway smiling. Her warm coloured mane made even more vibrant in the summer sun.
“Hey. You’re home. ‘bout time.” She said, entering the room and making herself comfortable on his couch.
“Hey Spitfire, what brings you here?”
“Not much. Just bored, came round to tell you something, but I forgot, so I was thinking we could just hang out?”
Soarin’ laughed.
“Yeah okay. I’m not doing much.”
“Good. I can’t stay too long. I’m meant to be picking up Bluewave from the train station but her train doesn’t get in for half an hour… so I guess I’ve got time.”
“Good.” Soarin’ replied, secretly happy to be spending time with his best friend for once. “So what you been up to lately?” He asked, trying to spur on some conversation.
“Not much. Been flying a lot for the Wonderbolt’s application, but apart from that just been avoiding all contact with the outside world.”
Soarin’ laughed again. He commented on their similar lifestyles, and was met with more conversation, much about the Wonderbolts. The time ticked on and the two friends just talked about their past, present and future. The conversation only became strange when Spitfire asked:
“So, you’re still single aren’t you?”
Soarin’ scratched the back of his neck and looked down to the floor, slightly ashamed.
“Yeah… can’t hold em back.” He replied sarcastically. Truth was, he hadn’t had any romantic contact with anypony for nearly a year. Although he was silently worried, the blue Pegasus made sure that his best friend didn’t find out.
“Someone’s going through a dry spell aren’t they?” Spitfire instantly commented.
A stone dropped in Soarin’s stomach.
Eurgh.. how does she always know me better than I know me? He questioned himself.
“It’s been a while,” was his sombre response.
Spitfire jumped up in excitement.
“Hey, you should come out with me and Bluewave! It’s her birthday and I think your gonna like her.” She said wide eyed. “We can go to ‘Neon’ and see if I can’t be your wingmare.”
“You’re already my wingmare Fire..,” Replied Soarin’
She frowned. “In the air maybe, but on the ground, it’s an entirely different playing field. Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise!” She pleaded.
“Fine.” Agreed Soarin’ with a sigh.
“Yay, can’t wait!” Squealed Spitfire in excitement. “So, ten o’clock outside Neon?”
“See you there.” He replied with a half-enthusiast smile.  
“Good. Look sexy for her.” Commented Spitfire with a wink before trotting towards the front door. Soarin’ laughed to himself, and as Spitfire left, he bolted the door shut three times. Neon was a popular and nostalgic night club that Spitfire and Soarin’ had gone to a couple of times. It held a lot of good memories for them, and because Soarin’ had got lucky there once, it was instantly the best club in the whole of Equestria.
What have I done…? He thought to himself as he walked upstairs. Looking up at the ceiling, he pushed himself around on his spinning chair in his room once again, feeling pessimistic about the night ahead.