February 29, 2039, Earth time.
On Earth, in Kentucky, in a suburban town, is a bar. A local bar with very few people in it. One man, chubby with gray hair and a grizzled beard, sits in front of the bartender, sipping on a pint. The bartender is younger, but still mature, if the goatie he has is any indication. The bar has tables lined against the walls. There’s about five or six of them, enough to seat about fourty people total. It used to be one of the busiest bars in town, but the local economy started going downhill. There are a couple more people in the bar, but they aren’t important to me. I sigh, standing outside a window, looking in. Now’s a better time than ever. I walk around and open the door, walking in and getting out of the rain. “Weather’s been a bitch,” I say, walking in. I take off my hat, trying futilely to dry it with my coat’s arm sleeve. “Can I get a glass of... Fuck it, Doctor Pepper,” I call, sitting down next to chubby guy. The bartender starts to say something to me, but he looks up and freezes.
I shake my head silently and nods towards the man next to me. It might’ve been ten years, but he still knows me well enough to know what that means. Bartender’s name is Jerry. One of the few friends I had, though we lost touch a couple months before I got taken away to Equestria. Jerry nods and heads to the back. “... I don’t have any money for this month, just take the damn couch. You know where I live,” the man next to me says.
“Eh, it’s been a few years you bastard, how the hell can I know where you live?” I ask him. He scoffs.
“George caught on finally?” He asks. I frown, looking at him.
“I’m waiting for you to,” I say. Jerry comes back, handing me a glass of soda. I take a sip as the man looks at me.
“... Sorry pal, I don’t recognize assholes,” he says, sipping his pint. I snicker, nodding.
“Well, you’re not wrong,” I mutter. “I really didn’t want to do this... But I had to. I wanted to talk to you, after all this time.”
“What the fuck are you rambling on about?” The man asks.
“... I don’t know. For once, I don’t know,” I answer. “I didn’t think I’d even get this far to be honest, but, I figured, it’s kinda retarded how I never made peace with you, despite the fact that you’re still kicking shit around, and I’m almost fucking fourty.”
“... Who are you?” The man asks.
“Well, you fucking Geezer, think back to when I last talked to you,” I say. “Remember when I said ‘Go fuck yourself’?”
“... Is it you Anon?” He asks. I bark a laugh.
“That’s most sober sound you’ve ever made,” I say. “Did you practice in front of a mirror or something?”
“A-Anon...” my father says, looking at me in shock.
“Yeah, that’s the dumbass name you game me when I was born,” I mutter. “Still can’t change it, just so you know.”
“Anon, where have you been!” He yells,
“Somewhere far enough that I don’t hear that loud ass voice anymore,” I say, sipping my soda.
“It’s been twenty years! Where the hell did you go!? Do you have any idea what-“
“Do you ever stop shouting? Because I can go ahead and leave again. You can’t find me once I leave,” I say. His face contorts to anger for a second, but he stops and sighs. He sips his pint and breathes.
“... Your mother was worried,” he says quietly.
“Hm,” I acknowledge. “So you were sober enough to know she’s capable of feeling hurt for once?” My father grunts, but simply sips his beer.
“She divorced me, if that makes you feel better,” he says. “I know you have a love for spite.”
“You’re not too far off, but it doesn’t make me feel better. Just goes to show she only endured your bullshit because of me,” I say.
“Well, she cut me off from her life after you left, I don’t know where she is or how she’s doing,” he says.
“Well, if she’s like me, she feels fine. Maybe she’s even happy for once,” I say.
“... Your ex is doing fine, if you’re wondering,” my father says.
“Nope. Wasn’t wondering. Kinda hoped she’d die in a ditch or something,” I mutter.
“Anon, she wasn’t-“
“That bitch had the nerve to cheat on me, constantly call me an idiot, and even took my shit when she dumped me. If you so much as even begin to finish that sentence, so help me God, I might just break this fucking glass over your head.” I take a calm sip as my father looks at me in surprise.
“Someone’s ballsy,” he comments. I flip him off as I take out a cig and light it.
“Um, Anon-“
“I don’t give a fuck Jerry,” I say, puffing out some smoke.
“... Fair enough,” Jerry says, shrugging and continuing his duties as a bartender.
“Since when did you start smoking?” My father asks.
“‘Bout ten years ago, a dude gave me a cigar for a gift. Tried cigarettes, they felt better,” I say, taking out the cig to sip the Dr Pepper. I grimace as I realize the taste is muddled from my smoking,
“Smoking’s bad for you,” he responds.
“So’s excessive drinking,” I say, nodding towards his pint.
“Actually, this is the first drink I’ve had in months,” he says. I quirk an eyebrow at him with suspicion. He sighs. “I joined an AA group smartass.”
“... Good,” I reply. “At least you did something productive while I was gone.”
“... Where did you go Anon?” He asks. “I... When your mother left... I didn’t have anyone.”
“Hm,” I acknowledge, taking a silent sip.
“... Your mother left around a month after you disappeared. I looked for you for two years. It’s like you were wiped off from the face of the Earth,” he says. I chuckle.
“Eh, something like that happened, but I can’t really tell you,” I say. Dad looks at me for a moment before sighing.
“Such a shit answer,” he mutters.
“Fine asshat, I constantly move to the other side of the world you’re on,” I say. “Hell, I even have GPS tracking and everything on you.” My father looks at me for a second before shaking his head.
“Sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re serious,” he says.
“I’m not, but I really can’t tell you where I go,” I say. “It’d be complicated.”
“Hm... So, what do you do nowadays? Bitch at people?” He asks.
“... Yeah, pretty much,” I snicker. “I make a pretty penny for it too. Thousands per day.”
“Heh, that’s my kid,” Dad replies.
“... That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that,” I note, sipping my soda. He sighs, nodding.
“Don’t get used to it. I’m only mellow because today’s a good day,” he says irritably.
“... That makes no fucking sense, but okay,” I say, puffing out some smoke. “... You know, this is going a lot smoother than I expected. You really have changed a lot.” My father grunts and sips his pint. “... So, what do you do for a living?” I ask. He grunts and pops his shoulder.
“Well, once I got my shit together, I tried every job I could. I was a part timer for a grocery store, there was a KFC bit I tried for a couple months, and I finally settled for being a plumber. I actually managed to get a van and just live in it while I work.”
“Hm. That’s good,” I say. “Retirement plans come up yet?”
“Fuck no,” he replies, chuckling. “I didn’t know how much I actually like being busy until I started the plumbing business.”
“Hm. Guess an old dog can learn new tricks,” I say. He grumbles, glancing at me.
“Who’re you calling old? You got wrinkles too bitch,” he says. “Oh, is that a gray hair I see?” I frown and grumble back.
“I’m not old,” I mutter irritably.
“You’re fourty Anon, you’re old. Welcome to hell’s prologue,” Dad says, sipping his pint. I chuckle and raise my glass of Dr Pepper.
“You know what? I can get along with you, you old bastard,” I say. He grunts ands raises his pint. We both sip in unison, falling into a comfortable silence, aside from the jukebox still playing music. Suddenly, my father grunts.
“It’s... It’s good to see you, Anon. I... I hope you can...”
“... It’s alright. We’re all fuck ups, one way or another,” I says, putting an arm around my dad’s shoulders in an attempt at a hug. However, I am suddenly pulled in, and his arms go all around me. I hear him quietly sob, shaking as he hugs me.
“No, I... I fucked up. You did nothing.... Nothing wrong...” I sit, stunned, unsure of how to take this. I get flashbacks, to the times he’d use a belt, barking orders at me to bring him beer from the store, and constantly putting me down.
“... I have to ask...” I gently take his arms off me and grab his shoulders, making me look at me. “Why did you hate me so much when I was young? You acted like I was an asshole just by being alive. I don’t know if you’re just bullshitting me right now, or if you feel sorry. The only way I need to know, is if you tell me right now, why did you hate me?” His eyes, sunken and sad, look at me, but also past me. I can see him have his own flashbacks, playing in his mind.
“... I was angry. I hated what I was, what I did, and what I wanted to do. It was a cycle of just... hating everything. I don’t even know how it started anymore,” he says. “I... I don’t know how to explain-“
“No, I get it. I got in that cycle too. I only recovered because I had people help get out of it,” I say. “... If I never met those people, I don’t think I would be alive right now. Hell, I even tried to jump off a cliff after I went away.” My dad looks at me in slight surprise. I cross my arms and lean on the counter. “I hated everything, myself, and everything else. But, that’s not important.” I look at my father with a small bit of sympathy. “So, yeah. I get it. I still wish you weren’t a fucking asshole, but I get it.”
“...” My father looks at me with an anxious expression.
“... For the moment, I guess we’re fine,” I say. His eyes widen slightly and he hugs me, stronger than before.
“Thank you, thank you,” he says. “I wanted to see you for twenty years... I’m so glad that I could.” I sigh.
“Oh grow up Geezer, you’ll live,” I say, patting his back. With that, he pulls away and looks at his pint. He looks at me for a second with hesitation before grunting,
“Jerry, could you... throw this away, or something? I’m not feeling it tonight,” he says. I feel my eyes widen a bit, as does Jerry.
“But, it’s half full,” he says.
“Eh, just drink it. My fiancé owns a bar, she says that alcohol kills germs or some shit, so it’s fine to finish it off for yourself,” I say.
“Wait, fiancé?” My father asks.
“Huh? Oh yeah,” I say, pulling up my left hand and showing my ring finger, showing a silver band. “I uh, kinda got engaged recently.”
“Oh, you have a girlfriend? What’s she like?” He asks as Jerry takes the pint away from him.
“Oh, you’d like her. She yells at me when I do stupid shit, but she’s an amazing cook and bartender,” I say. “She’s a bit awkward when it comes to romance. Like when she ‘proposed’-“ I stop to put in quotes with my fingers. “-she had actually forgotten to get me a Valentine gift. I jokingly suggested that she should marry me, saying that would be a good enough gift,” I start laughing. “The next week, I get a fancy dinner and and she just pops the question as I was bitching at someone for putting hay in my burger.” My dad blinks, probably questions the part about hay, but he ignores it to ask something else.
“... When did you two start dating?” He asks. I sigh, sipping the glass as Jerry comes back with a couple soda cans. Dad picks one as I start talking.
“Well, uh, I found a lonely kid on a train, realized it was one of my friends’ son, and when I went looking for his father, I bumped into his father’s sister,” I say. “She was really pushy at first, trying to sound like the toughest girl in the world, but we kinda talked for a bit. The next thing I know, we stop by the coffee shop sometimes, or even to the movies. Then, one day, I realized she loved me, but I didn’t want a repeat of my last relationship, so I let her choose whether or not to tell me. About a few months later, she confesses. We sort of hit it off after that.”
“Hm. Your mother was the same way when I met her,” my father says. He snickers. “She could bark, but she was better at biting...” I sit comfortably, listening and occasionally talking to my dad, sharing stories. Of course, I never go into detail about a lot of things, but I think I’ve told him the things that will give him peace of mind.
Finally, I look at the clock, and frown. “Damn, I gotta go. My uh... ‘flight’s’ leaving in a couple minutes.” My father’s smile falters, and he sighs,
“Ah, well... I uh, hope you have a safe trip back to... Wherever,” he says. I hum, nodding.
“... I’ll be honest, I thought I would regret talking to you. When I thought of trying to make peace with you, I thought you wouldn’t change,” I say. “But... I’m glad I did this... “
“... Anon, will you ever come back?” He asks. I grimace,
“... Probably not. This might be a one-time trip for me,” I say. He sighs. I can see that he’s sad, which surprises me.
“... Could you send postcards? Maybe even pictures?” He asks. I start to say ‘no’, but I stop. I hum in thought.
“... Be right back,” I say. I rummage through my pockets and bring out some money, I place the twenty on the bar. “Here Jerry, keep the change.” I turn to Dad. “Don’t move.” I walk out of the bar, back into the rain. My father blinks in confusion before looking at Jerry, who’s also staring after me in confusion. After a couple minutes, I come back in and hand a paper to my dad. “Here’s a recent picture of me and Whi- er... Wendy,” I say. He takes the picture and looks at the photo. I stand to the left, wearing my usual grey coat and red shirt, putting an arm around an obviously younger woman, who has short, upturned purple bangs, green eyes, and wearing a black jacket with a purple shirt underneath. My expression looks irritated while Whisk looks happy. I silently thank Discord for being able to use his bullshit magic to alter photos when they’re in my world.
“Why, she looks young!” He says in surprise. “How old is she?!”
“Uh, about ten or nine years younger than me,” I say with a bit of embarrassment. “Trust me, I realize how weird it looks too.” My father snickers, patting my back.
“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed,” he says. He smiles at me, with a genuinely happy expression. I almost didn’t recognize him for a second. “... Thank you, Anon.”
“... Your welcome Pops,” I say, stretching, “I’ll send you a card every once in a while. I uh, kinda use a special delivery system, so, just beware, you might see this guy called Discord. He’s weird as hell, but he’ll deliver my letters for you.”
“Uh, okay?” My father responds. I look at the block and grimace.
“Welp, gotta go, hope I’ll see you later one day,” I say. “See ya... Dad... I’m happy you’re a better person.”
“See ya kid, I’m... I’m proud of you,” my father says as I leave. I stop and look at him for moment, but only give a wave behind me as I leave the bar. I hold myself together, feeling all the repressed emotions swirling around me as I walk into an alleyway. The next thing I know, I’m in my living room at Manehatten, Discord is eating the bowls that holds the ice cream I prepared earlier.
“Oh, well done human, well done! Good show, I must say!” Discord says. He breaks off a piece of the bowl and throws it into his mouth, and chews it silently. “You, standing up to your father, oh! What a delightful treat!”
“You’re paying me back for that bowl, right?” I ask in a deadpanned tone.
“Oh, very well, spoil sport,” he says, popping off his claw and sticking it onto the bowl. It morphs into the original shape of the bowl as Discord’s arm regrows. “So, are we done here? I have a wonderful tea party to attend to! You know how I hate making Fluttershy wait,” Discord says. I wave him off, which cues him to squeal in delight before snapping. And just like that, he disappears. I sigh in relief, walking to the couch. I plop down, rubbing my temples. I admit, the anxiety of me confronting my dad was... perplexing, in hindsight, but I’m glad I went through with it. I actually feel a little lighter, after talking to him. I don’t think we really patched things up well enough, if I’m being honest here, but... It’s good enough for me... Now, I feel like I can succeed where he couldn’t, if the time ever comes...