Booker leaned back into one of the couches and sighed. Even after his long day at work he'd still practiced with the rest of the band, and he was happy to take a break and relax. As much as he enjoyed both sewing and singing, his cramped muscles needed rest, and Zero's studio could get quite hot. All that soundproofing trapped in an incredible amount of heat.
The band had practiced with all five members for one week. Booker had felt he had settled in enough at the beginning of the week and decided to join in early, and he could tell the others were happy to be back to a full group again. The music wasn't too difficult - it was on par with the stuff he liked to sing for fun, so even though he had been worried at first he would be the weak link in the group, it seemed like everypony was at a fairly similar skill level. Nopony was dragging the band back too much, and there wasn't anypony who was bored from easy music.
"Damn, that new song is awesome, Zero," Heatwave said as he sat in his usual chair. "Is it a single, or are we putting it in the next album?"
Zero shrugged and flopped onto his couch. "I don't know, that depends on if it fits the theme. We still need to decide on that, by the way. Friendship was a vague one for our first album, but we need something different this time. I've got a few bars written that I can't do anything with until I know what we're going for. Anypony got a suggestion?"
"Let's make it about a stallion and a mare who are madly in love, but the stallion dies and goes to Hell, where he looks for his lover, expecting to find her dead, too. The only pony he finds is the Devil, who tells him the mare is actually still alive, and he promises to re-unite them if the stallion can bring him one thousand evil souls. The stallion accepts and the Devil sends on his way, but he never accomplishes the task, and the two ponies remain separated for eternity," Heatwave immediately proposed.
"What?" Booker thought, frowning in confusion. Everypony else seemed as bewildered as him by the unusually specific proposition, and nopony spoke.
"Or," Lucky said from his chair after a long moment, "We could boil that down into a central message and make the album about loss and the pain of real life. I think it contrasts nicely with our last album."
Zero scratched his nose. "I think we can actually work off of both of those. Lucky's suggestion can be the main theme of the album, and Heatwave's outburst could be the story behind one of the songs." He cast a sideways glance at Heatwave. "Did you actually make a half-decent suggestion for once?"
Heatwave nodded and crossed his forelegs, oblivious to the insult. "I did, thank you."
Zero shook his head and turned to Charcoal. "Anyway, can you get the drinks?" Charcoal nodded and stood from his chair before disappearing into the kitchen.
Lucky noticed Booker's confused expression and smiled at him. "You can drink with us if you want, but you don't have to. We get drunk sometimes on Friday after practice, pass out on the floor, then Zero cooks us breakfast in the morning before we go home. You know, I don't actually remember how that became a tradition," he said as he scratched his head, looking lost in thought.
"How old are you, Booker?" Heatwave asked.
"Nineteen."
Heatwave turned to Lucky excitedly. "Legal drinking age in Equestria is eighteen, right? Perfect! New Blood can drink!"
"What did I say about nicknames?" Zero chimed in, only to be ignored by Heatwave.
"Only if he wants to," Lucky said sternly. He turned back to Booker. "Do you want to? We're not pressuring you into it." He shot Heatwave a glance.
Booker shrugged. "Sure. I've never had alcohol before, though."
"No time like the present. Hey Charcoal, float him one of your fancy whiskeys!" Heatwave shouted as Charcoal re-entered the room with an assortment of bottles and glasses floating in front of him.
"Not on your life. One bottle of White Oak is worth more than your hand-me-down guitar," Charcoal joked as he set everything down on the large table.
"It's not hand-me-down, it's vintage!" Heatwave huffed. "And I'll have you know it's entirely worth every bit I spent on it."
Lucky shook his head at Heatwave. "You don't know the meaning of the word 'restraint,' do you? We're not starting him off on something that strong. That stuff could probably substitute for gasoline."
"It can, I've tried." Charcoal filled a fairly small glass with an orange-ish liquid and glanced at Booker. "Do you like apple cider?"
Booker nodded. "Yeah."
"Try one of these, then. It's not too strong, so you should be fine." A glass bottle floated over to Booker, and he grabbed it gingerly. On the front was a label that said "Apple Mill" in large lettering over the face of a stout-looking red stallion wearing a yoke.
"'Not too strong?' Isn't that almost thirty proof?" Lucky asked.
Charcoal shrugged and sat back in his chair. "Thirty is nothing. He'll be just fine."
Zero chuckled. "You know, Lucky, you're like the mother of this dysfunctional family. You've been treating Booker like he's your foal since he got here."
"Well, I'm sorry if I take my commitments so seriously. How can I not try to protect the son I love so much?" Lucky joked, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.
"Oh, great. If he's the mother, what does that make me?" Charcoal grumbled as he sipped from his whiskey.
"The alcoholic step-father," Heatwave cracked, eliciting laughter from the other three ponies. "And me and Zero are the victimized children you brought into this doomed marriage."
Zero chuckled again before playing along with the joke. "Wait, wouldn't that mean I fucked my step-uncle?"
"OKAY, let's not bring my brother into this," Lucky interrupted. He got up from his seat and walked over to the table to pour himself a drink. "We don't need to hear every detail about the relationship between you two. The rest of us had enough of that from the tour last summer."
"You don't suppose I'm the reason he left the band, do you?" Zero continued, thinking out loud.
"No, he clearly said he cares about writing comics more than singing. And at least you can't rail him when he's on the other end of Equestria." Lucky grabbed a bottle from the table and tossed it to Zero. "Here's your rum. Start drinking before your step-mother puts you in time out."
Booker wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and tried to calm his aching sides. There were many moments like this between the four other ponies, and they reminded him a little of his friends from high school marching band. He just wished he wasn't too shy to join in. He was also curious to know whether or not they were joking about Zero and Lucky's brother.
Zero shook his head again and turned to Booker. "So, are you gonna try it or what? Don't let us distract you from beginning your journey into alcoholism."
"I'll run this band into the ground if you guys turn him into an alcoholic," Lucky joked before taking a long drink. "I can and will do it."
"You really are like his mother," Charcoal commented, earning himself a glare.
Booker glanced back at the bottle in his hooves and carefully twisted the cap off. Growing up he'd never so much as smelled alcohol. His parents were the protective, extremely religious type, which dictated a lot of what he did and didn't do in the nineteen years he'd lived with them. Now that he was away from them however, he didn't really mind giving it a try. It wasn't for rebellious reasons or anything, he'd just lost touch with his parents' religion over time and had nothing against drinking anymore.
A little nervously, Booker raised the bottle to his lips and took a small mouthful. He was expecting it to taste like regular apple cider, so he was completely surprised when it wasn't similar at all. Even so, it was pretty decent after he got over that initial shock, and the accompanying burn was bearable.
"Yeah! How does it feel to lose your drinking virginity?" Heatwave yelled from across the room as he selected a yellow-ish bottle from the table.
"Not too bad," Booker said with a laugh. There was a collective chuckle from the others, and pretty soon the group's conversation and banter picked up again.
Before long, Booker noticed himself joining in on the conversations more and more as he began to feel less anxious and stopped filtering what he said. "Damn, I should have started drinking a long time ago," he thought to himself as he upended the last of the cider into his mouth. "This makes talking to ponies way easier."
"Already done? Here, have another," Charcoal said before floating another cider over to Booker.
"Hey, hey, hey! I'm serious about ending this band if you turn him into an alcoholic!" Lucky protested.
Charcoal chuckled. "He'll be fine. You can start worrying when he's on his third."
"I don't see a problem here, either. He's a lot more talkative with some alcohol in him. Now we can actually learn about his personal life," Heatwave joked. "Hey Booker, you got a special mare in your life?"
Booker shook his head. "Nah, not since early high school."
"Damn, you got pussy as a foal?"
Booker laughed and shook his head again. "You think I'd be brave enough to make an advance like that? We never even kissed." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "It's actually pretty embarrassing to talk about."
"That's too bad. What about a special stallion?" Zero asked.
"I don't see myself ever marrying a stallion." Booker opened the bottle of cider and took another drink.
"I think what he's really asking is, 'would you fuck another stallion?'" Lucky chimed in.
Booker went into a fake coughing fit for a couple seconds to fill time, then quickly decided to talk about something else. "Sooo, did you guys know Rainbow Dash has a daughter?"
Zero opened his mouth to call Booker out on changing the subject, but Heatwave jumped in and interrupted him. "Wait, really? I thought she and Applejack were a thing. Aren't they living together right now?"
Charcoal raised an eyebrow at Heatwave. "Seriously? You've lived here your whole life. How did I know she had a daughter, but you didn't? Wouldn't you two have gone to school together as foals?"
Heatwave looked genuinely shocked at that revelation. "And she's about my age? What the hell? How did I meet somepony with a bright rainbow mane and not remember?"
"Well, I think she's actually closer to Booker's age, but you still should have been in school at least one year together." Charcoal sniffed and set his empty glass down on the table. "And her mane isn't rainbow-colored anymore. I think she dyed it solid red a while back, right?"
Booker nodded. "Yeah, it was red when I saw her earlier today. Why would she want to cover up a mane as cool as that?"
"Is she a communist? Or maybe she just doesn't want everypony to assume she's gay, like they do with Rainbow Dash," Zero joked.
"I don't know, she didn't seem like the type of pony to change her mane color for either of those reasons. Maybe she just likes red," Booker mused.
Lucky finished off his drink and shot Booker a suspicious look. "Why are you so curious about that? Are you in love or something?"
Booker snorted. "We only talked for a minute or so. Ponies can't fall in love that quickly." He frowned to himself and took a drink as the others started another conversation. It was a tendency of his to instantly form a crush on pretty much half of the mares he met, so he'd learned to ignore sudden feelings like that after a while. Now that he actually thought about it, however, he realized Hailstorm was actually the kind of pony he'd want to be in a relationship with. Not to mention she was very pretty, too. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and he took another drink.
As the night wore on and Booker finished his second cider, he quickly realized just how impairing alcohol was, and how hard it became to see and talk. He then promptly forgot about that and was overcome by the urge to cuddle somepony. He also didn't feel like getting up, so instead he flopped over on the couch and pulled one of the throw pillows in close to him.
"You doing okay, Booker?" Zero asked, mildly concerned.
"I wanna cuddle," Booker slurred before burying his face in the pillow.
Lucky turned to Charcoal and scowled at him. "Now look at what you did. This is why I said to stop after one. You gave him too much, and now he's barely coherent," he accused.
"Well, how was I supposed to know his alcohol tolerance was so low?" Charcoal countered.
"It was his first time drinking, you should have been more careful." Lucky sighed and glanced at Booker, who had fallen silent. "Look, he's not even talking anymore."
"Is he dead?" Heatwave asked with his eyes wide.
Zero laughed and shook his head. "Of course not. Two ciders isn't enough alcohol to be dangerous to a pony, even one as small as him. He's just asleep."
"He fell asleep rather suddenly," Lucky noted.
Zero shrugged. "Like you said, he had too much to drink." He frowned at his third-empty bottle of rum. "Maybe we all have."
"You wanna call it a night?" Charcoal asked as he stretched in his seat.
"I'm okay with that," Lucky said as he set his empty glass back on the table. "Am I the only one who didn't drink more than usual to show off for the new guy?"
"What are you talking about? I had as much as I do every time!" Heatwave protested.
Lucky eyed the four empty bottles of mead next to Heatwave's seat and raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure about that? I think Booker is the only one more drunk than you."
"Four is nothing! You think I can't handle more?" Heatwave went to reach for another bottle, but Charcoal levitated it away from him.
"I think that's enough for you." Charcoal grabbed all the empty bottles and glasses with his magic, as well as everything on the table, and floated it all in front of him as he disappeared into the kitchen again. He reappeared a few moments later and sat back down in his chair.
Zero grunted as he stood up from the couch and stretched his back. "I'm gonna go upstairs. You mind helping get Booker onto my back, Charcoal?"
"You can leave him down here, it's not a problem," Lucky said. "We'll just make Heatwave sleep on the floor again."
"I slept on the floor last time!" Heatwave complained.
Zero shook his head. "It's no big deal. I still think we should replace two of those chairs with another couch so none of you have to sleep on the floor when we do this."
"It's your house, so it's up to you," Charcoal said as he used his magic to disentangle Booker from the pillow and levitated him onto Zero's broad shoulders. Zero nodded to him before carefully heading up the stairs toward the bedrooms.
"Do you think they're gonna fuck?" Heatwave asked after Zero had disappeared from view in a loud whisper that carried easily up the stairs.
"Probably. Zero will fuck anything with a hole, just ask my brother," Lucky replied, also loud enough for Zero to hear.
"Only if the hole gives consent!" Zero yelled back before closing a door.
"I'm assuming that means yes?" Heatwave asked. "Fun! I'm gonna go watch." He jumped out of his seat and ran unsteadily toward the stairs, but Charcoal grabbed his tail with his magic and pulled the energetic pony back to his seat.
"Idiot, you're married, remember?"
Heatwave looked like he was about to argue, but then he relaxed back into his seat. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that."
Charcoal sighed and shook his head. "I swear, you have the memory of a goldfish when you're drunk."
"But at least you're here to look out for me." Heatwave yawned and stretched his tired muscles. "Anyway, I get a couch this time, and there's nothing you can do to change that." He stuck his tongue out at Charcoal and went over to the one Booker had previously occupied.
Charcoal got up to claim the other couch, but Lucky had apparently gotten there while he and Heatwave were arguing, and he smiled at Charcoal. "Not this time."
Charcoal sighed to himself and flopped down in front of his chair. Sleeping on the floor sucked, but it was better than hearing Heatwave complain until he passed out. Hopefully he didn't wake up with a crick in his neck again.
Zero blinked his eyes open at the light streaming in through the blinds. Even though it was the smaller bedroom of the two, he'd picked this one years ago since window faced the rising sun. He'd always been a morning pony. There was nothing more invigorating to him than the start of a new day. Unless he was hungover, of course, but luckily it wasn't too bad this time.
Finally having noticed the warmth pressed against his chest, Zero glanced down, expecting to see Pure Luck in his bed, Lucky's brother and their last singer. That made it a little surprising to instead see Booker, and he remembered that Purity was all the way in Manehattan, working on his comics. "Oh yeah, that happened last night," he thought, flinching at a minor headache.
When Charcoal had first brought Booker over a couple weeks prior, Zero remembered thinking he was a mare at first. The pony's stature and face didn't really look like those of a stallion, and while it might be a turnoff for some, Zero actually thought he was kind of cute, which was weird because he didn't normally find mares attractive.
Zero reached up with one hoof and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was the second youngest member of the group now that Booker had joined, but even so, he felt old sometimes. Twenty four was still young, but he remembered being able to drink half a bottle of rum as a senior in high school and barely feel it in the morning. Now after just a third of a bottle, he felt noticeably more hungover than he used to.
Zero put his hoof down and glanced at Booker again, who was curled up tightly against his chest. The younger pony seemed to really love cuddling, and he'd even purred a bit when Zero had scratched him underneath the chin last night. Zero had almost been convinced he was half cat.
"Kitten," Zero mumbled. That wasn't a bad nickname, and it fit pretty well. Booker liked isolating himself sometimes, but he still enjoyed company, and he was quieter than most ponies. "It's a better nickname than New Blood," he thought to himself. He smiled and wrapped one foreleg around Booker. Zero wasn't much of a romantic, but he didn't mind a good cuddle.
Zero glanced down again, and he felt his smile fade as he noticed something. "So that's why he always wears clothes." The blanket had shifted, revealing the countless scars up and down Booker's forelegs. Zero could also faintly see one across his neck through his disheveled mane.
Booker had never seemed like an emotionally stable pony, but Zero didn't think he'd be a cutter. He'd had his own fair share of shit in his life as a colt, but he couldn't imagine how awful a pony would have to feel to do something like that. Of course, there was also the possibility Booker only did it for attention, but he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. It didn't make sense for him to cut for attention if one of the scars was across his throat.
Zero felt Booker shift, and after a moment his stunningly blue eyes opened halfway and peeked up at Zero through his mane. "'Morning," Zero said, forcing a smile. Booker grunted a reply, and he snorted in amusement. "Not a morning pony?"
"No," Booker grumbled before closing his eyes again.
Zero smiled slightly and shook his head. "I should go make breakfast. The others will probably be awake soon." Booker mumbled another reply, and Zero carefully slid out of bed and walked out into the hallway.
Zero hadn't known Booker for too long, but it was still like a slap to the face to realize one of his friends had been suicidal in the past, and might still be. "I'll have to remember to talk to him about that later. I hope he's doing okay now."
Booker stretched and cracked his tired eyes open. He already hated mornings, and it was made so much worse by his hangover. He was physically and mentally drained, his head was pounding, and his mouth felt as dry as the deserts of Saddle Arabia. At least the smell of biscuits and gravy wafting into the room was pleasant.
"Hey, breakfast is done," a voice said suddenly. Booker rolled over to see Zero standing in the doorway with a light dusting of flour coating his forehooves and chest.
"I'll be down in a minute," Booker replied as he pulled the covers up around his neck.
"You don't have to stay covered up. I already saw."
Booker sighed, annoyed at himself for being careless. He should have left his clothes on last night, but with how drunk he had been, it hadn't even crossed his mind. Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed and stood unsteadily on his hooves.
"I want to talk to you about that later, by the way," Zero said, looking more than a little concerned.
"It's nothing serious." Booker scratched his nose and looked away. "I might as well just tell everypony at breakfast and get it out of the way."
"If you think you're up for it." Zero turned and walked out the door before motioning for Booker to follow. "Come on, before Heatwave eats everything."
Booker glanced back at his hoodie, which was in a jumbled heap at the foot of the bed, before following Zero into the hallway and down the stairs. When he walked into the kitchen he saw Charcoal, Lucky, and Heatwave all seated at the table, with Heatwave already stuffing his face. Charcoal and Lucky both waved a greeting, and while Booker was certain they both noticed his scars, they at least didn't say anything about it.
"Kitten!" Heatwave called with his mouth full of food. Booker glanced at Zero, confused, and he shrugged.
"That's the nickname I picked out for you. I thought it fit pretty well," he said. Charcoal and Lucky nodded in agreement, and Booker decided to just accept it. It definitely could have been something worse.
"Sorry about Heatwave. We wanted to wait until everypony was here to eat, but you know how he is," Charcoal said as Booker sat down.
Booker shrugged and pushed his messy mane out of his eyes. "It's no big deal."
"Aw, look. It's our baby's first hangover," Lucky said jokingly to Charcoal.
Charcoal punched Lucky lightly in the shoulder and turned back to Booker. "You'll get used to it. Drink something and you'll be fine."
Booker took Charcoal's advice and decided to sip on some water before eating. Not that he could eat much considering the slight nausea he was feeling, combined with the fact that he could never eat a large breakfast without feeling sick.
Breakfast passed in a more subdued fashion than Booker had come to expect from the group, and he got the feeling Zero was the only morning pony out of the group. Heatwave seemed as energetic as ever, but he was like that even when he was tired.
Near the end of breakfast, Zero caught Booker's eye and raised an eyebrow at him in an inquisitive way. Booker shrugged in response and looked down at his now empty plate. He knew Zero wanted him to talk about his past, but it was just so hard to start conversations like that. Talking about deep topics always made him feel awkward, and he preferred to keep his problems to himself.
"So... Do you still want to talk about that?" Zero asked with a nod toward Booker's forelegs, taking the initiative for him.
Booker glanced at the others, who had all stopped eating and were looking at him curiously. Heatwave even managed to look placid for once. He sighed and shrugged. "Sure, but I don't really know where to start."
Lucky pushed his plate out of the way and leaned forward slightly onto the table. "Just start with why. Why cut in the first place?"
"I don't know, I guess I just kind of hoped somepony would notice and actually care enough to ask what was wrong. I was always invisible to others and nopony really cared about me, so I didn't know how else to ask for help. Obviously nopony noticed, anyway," Booker said as he scratched the scar along his neck. "Also, it was therapeutic to me, in a way. The physical pain took my mind away from my thoughts, and it was kind of calming. It was all I could do to cope."
"To cope with what?" Charcoal asked. "Tell us everything."
"A lot of things. I've never really thought much of myself, and while I can deal with that by itself, it was still a contributing factor." Booker sighed again and scratched his nose. This was the part he didn't like telling other ponies. He always worried they'd think he had gotten depressed over nothing and judge him for it. He already knew he was weak, both physically and mentally, but he didn't like hearing other ponies say it.
"The summer before freshman year of high school, I met a filly I really liked. We became friends, and soon after started dating. She quickly became the center of my universe, and nearly everything I did, I did for her. I think that was when I first learned what true happiness was. She seemed just as content as I was, and for nearly two years, that was that.
"Late sophomore year, I guess she decided she didn't love me anymore. She went behind my back and slept with another colt from our class. Looking back on it, I really should have seen it coming. I guess I put too much faith in her and ignored all the signs. It didn't take long for me to spiral into depression.
"A couple months after that my cat died, and that was when I started cutting. I didn't really have much left in my life at that point. I didn't enjoy anything anymore, I ignored and pushed away my friends and family, and I spent nearly every day in my room listening to music with the lights off. I tried holding on as long as I could, but it seemed impossible when the pain just gets worse and worse with seemingly no end. Partway through the summer, I decided I'd had enough," Booker said, lightly touching the line across his neck.
"Luckily I didn't cut deep enough, and my sister got home from her job in time to rush me to the hospital. I got stuck in therapy for a week and a half, and it actually helped a lot. After that they put me on medication, which helped further. Over the next few years I got mostly cleared up, but I also transitioned into the reclusive, insecure pony that I am now."
After a couple moments of silence, Heatwave was surprisingly the first one to speak up. "But you're not reclusive and insecure. At least, not anymore. I've never heard you talk that much."
Lucky and Charcoal nodded in agreement. "And if we didn't want you here with us you wouldn't be here right now, so we obviously see worth in you, even if you don't" Lucky ammended.
"They're actually kind of right," Booker thought. He wasn't sure how talking made him not insecure, but he could see the validity in the other statements. "Maybe. I guess drinking with you guys last night brought me out of my shell."
"That's a step in the right direction, but there has to be something we can do to help other than share a drink every now and then?" Zero asked.
Booker shrugged. "I think the best thing you could do is to keep treating me the same way you always have. Sharing all of that was actually a pretty big relief, and like I said, my depression is long gone. I haven't needed medication in a few years now."
"That'd good to hear. If you ever need somepony to talk to again, we'll listen," Charcoal said. Booker nodded his thanks and leaned back in his seat, glad that the conversation was over. As much as he preferred everything to be enjoyable and simple, he had to admit doing things like this every now and then could be helpful.
Everypony was silent for a few more seconds before Heatwave reached across the table and shoveled a bunch of pancakes and biscuits onto his plate. "Enough serious talk, let's have some fun! I'll bet I can eat more than you, Charcoal!"
"As if." Charcoal added food to his own plate to match Heatwave, and the two of them went at it, stuffing their faces past their limit.
Booker snorted in amusement and smiled to himself as he watched Charcoal and Heatwave. If he was going to be completely honest, his depression never fully went away, and he doubted it ever would. He'd carried a piece of it with him all these years, and it tended to resurface on occasion. Even so, with friends like these, he was starting to think that it wouldn't be a problem anymore.