The sharp, painful vibrations of the alarm clock's hammer striking the neighboring bells felt like somepony was trying to dig their way into Sonnet's skull. Though the ringing was annoying enough to wake up the earth pony, the fatigue that clouded his mind was strong enough to keep him retained between the sofa's mattress and his blanket. For nearly a minute, the stallion simply stared at the coffee table situated in front of his sofa -- a table that was littered with greasy takeout food containers and two bottles once filled with ale from this morning. The headache he had, though bothersome, was not enough to compel Sonnet to turn off the source of his trouble. If anything, he hoped that he would be able to block out the noise and return to sleep, until he heard a noise from the ceiling above.
"Turn off that damn clock!" An unseen stallion yelled, with around four or five stomps following his outburst. This voice of complaint, which Sonnet was, unfortunately, familiar with, drew a moan of ire from his lips. Despite wanting to go to sleep, he did not want to get into another fight with his fussy and entitled neighbor upstairs.
Slowly, yet surely, Sonnet unwrapped himself from his blanket cocoon and got off the sofa. With blurred vision, he made his way to the desk not so far away from the sofa, and found his grey alarm clock jumping amongst the collection of written notebook paper. After he picked up the clock and turned it off, he spotted his black circular glasses under the desk lamp and placed them on his nose. His sight restored, Sonnet took specific notice of a teal sticky note near the clock that read: "PARTY AT WORKPLACE @ 7PM".
Glancing at the clock to see that it was 3:02 pm, Sonnet gave a relieved sigh. "I guess I should be glad that I set up the alarm last night." In truth, Sonnet was not very excited about going back to his workplace tonight. In fact, he would rather spend the rest of the weekend alone in his apartment like he would with any other weekend. Sadly, his boss told all of his employees that it was mandatory that everypony attended this dinner party, given that today was a very special moment in the company's history.
But until the dinner party was to happen, Sonnet, still somewhat sleepy and drained of energy, looked around his apartment to try and figure out how he should occupy himself in the meantime. The living room, and his bedroom far away from his vision, were, as usual, well off in terms of cleanliness, with only the carpet floors really in need of some vaccuming and the trash on the coffee table needing to be throw out. His kitchen, however, separated from the living room by a bar-counter behind the sofa, was a moderate mess. As Sonnet walked into the area, he looked at the table and counters stained with water stains and dried juices of food products, and though he could not see it, he knew that the microwave was a mess as well, and the smell of rot in the air reminded him that he once again failed to take out the trash on the previous Thursday.
Though not a slob, Sonnet knew he was a bit lazy when it came to managing the appearance of his apartment. Ever since moving to Fillydelphia over a year ago, his main goal in life had been to focus on the work he had to handle from his new career. Aside from bills and food, every other priority or luxury came in second place. Luckily for Sonnet, the weekends were a time for him to have at least an hour or two to focus on ensuring that he was not living in a place continually building up with heaps of trash mixed in with body odor. The worst he had ever gone without cleaning had been perhaps two or three weeks, and the consequence of that mistake was enough for him to truly work on sticking to a more planned schedule.
Just before he could go to the cabinets underneath the sink, the ringing of the telephone in the living room drew Sonnet back to his work desk. Picking up the handle and pressing it to his ears, he heard a familiar voice on the other end.
"Hello, Sonnet. Is this you?" a male voice asked in a meek manner.
"It's me, Inkwell," Sonnet answered. "If it's about the party, I haven't forgotten."
"Oh!" the stallion exclaimed, sounding much relieved then before. "Well, that's good to know. But I also wanted to check in to see if you're providing a dish or dessert to the party. I know that Pretty Pink and Sunny Forecast are going to be providing much of the food, but me and everypony else in most of the departments have done what we can to help out. So, have you made anything, Sonnet?"
Crap, Sonnet cursed in his mind. I forgot that he asked me that yesterday. The earth pony peered over his shoulder at the refrigerator and pantry situated in his kitchen. It must be around 3:10pm by now, and with the workplace party at 7:00pm, Sonnet guessed that he could prepare something that would take less than two hours to complete. He could prepare a homemade pizza or a pitcher of peach- or cherry-flavored lemonade -- personal favorites he would make when not busy with work -- but his lack of interest for the party would likely lag his progress in the kitchen.
"Well, Inkwell," Sonnet said with a sheepish smile, knowing what he was about to say was not entirely true. "I've actually been busy editing Maple Flower's manuscript last night that I forgot to about bringing something to the party."
"Oh," Inkwell said. "Well, that's okay. You still got a few hours left, so if you want you could go to a store nearby or perhaps make something real quick."
Sonnet chuckled nervously. "Well, actually, I don't have much food in my fridge right now, as far as I can remember. I could check after this call, and if I have more than I thought, I could make something. But just be ready for me to come emptyhoofed."
He heard Inkwell release a disappointed sigh. "Well, it's not mandatory for you to bring something in, but please try to if you can. Also, the boss is planning on bringing in a caterer from a brewery in the city. If the caterer does come, what kind of drink would you like?"
"I guess a cider -- either apple, pear or pineapple. And if they don't have cider, just get me an ale."
"All right, then. I'll see you at seven. Bye."
"Goodbye." And with that, Sonnet returned the handle to its original place and gave a sigh of relief. Looking back to the kitchen, the thought of making something for the party once again crept in to his head, but eventually the young stallion's self-interest kicked it out of his conscious. He felt that there were better things to do than to make food or beverages for ponies other than himself. Not to mention the fact that he did not want to deal with hauling all that stuff in his saddlebags across the city, and the close distance between his house and workplace would make it a waste of bits to hire a taxipony.
Sonnet looked at the papers scattered on his desk and began to collect it all into one pile. Throughout Friday night and after midnight of today, he had spent many hours at his desk editing several chapters of Maple Flower's manuscript for her new book, A Summer Night of Fireworks and Candy Apples. Though he enjoyed some of the details he came across, Sonnet still felt a need to change somethings that he believed would make the story flow much better. However, these edits he had in store were much more lengthy than he anticipated, and by the time he was still up at 4:30am, the earth pony realized that he would have to finish his work another time and get some sleep -- right after eating leftover takeout and having some booze to ease his mind.
It was a bad habit of his to push himself to the brink of exhaustion with his editing, but in an ironic sense he saw that as a odd strength of his, given how his writings for his community college's newspaper earned him his current spot at the workplace. But as he placed the stack of papers in the large bottom drawer at the right side of his desk, Sonnet felt relieved that he was free from his editorial responsibilities.
For the next hour, Sonnet went to cleaning up his apartment. Using dish rags and cleaning spray, he washed off the stains in the microwave and on the kitchen counters and tables. Then, he wiped off his coffee table and threw away the food containers and empty bottles. Finally, after thirty minutes, Sonnet had finished vacuuming his living room and bedroom. Though the trash was still an issue that he had not forgotten about, he figured he could throw it out when he went to the party. As of now, Sonnet wanted to clean himself up and then worry about what to do next.
Upon entering the darken bathroom, Sonnet flipped on the light switch and turned around to look at his reflection in the mirror spotted with water freckles. Facing Sonnet was an earth pony stallion with a grey coat, a mane and tail that had short black curls, and a cutiemark of a paper origami crane. His tired, bloodshot eyes still retained their almond brown color, even though the rest of Sonnet's face seemed devoid of any lively charisma or happy. Even the smile that he forced, so that he could examine the health of his teeth, seemed to be without any genuine color. When he was done looking at himself, he brushed his teeth and washed up his face, with some final touches added to his mane, so that he could at least look decent at the party.
Exiting the bathroom, Sonnet returned to his desk and sat on the cushion, pondering what he could do next. He obviously did not want to complete his edits of Maple's writings -- that was something he could save for Sunday -- but with the clock now at 4:52pm he realized he should entertain himself with something until he left at 6:00pm. With his chin resting on the desk's wooden surface, Sonnet thought of how that he could focus on his writings, but his recent struggles with writer's block had halted his progress with his work. Nonetheless, he opened the top drawer on the desk's left side and grabbed a blue journal that was titled Manuscript #2A for The Last Kingdom.
Opening the journal halfway through, Sonnet grabbed a pencil and a pencil sharpener from the same drawer and placed the pencil in his mouth. The tip of the pencil floated less than an inch above the opened pages and just below an paragraph previously written by the author. For several minutes, the stallion kept his posture as still as he could, with only his mind being at motion as thoughts raced through his head about what to write. Each minute that passed without the pencil touching the paper drew ire out of him, until he finally snapped when he saw that the time was now at 5:21pm. Spitting the pencil out of his mouth and across the living room floor, Sonnet grunted in frustration and slammed his forehead on the journal.
Defeated, the grey earth pony placed the blue journal back in the drawer and retrieved a smaller green notebook titled Poems #17. Leaving his cushion to retrieve his pencil, Sonnet's eyes caught the radio that rested on the window just near his bathroom and went over to turn it on. Messing with the dials, he finally got a frequency to a station that played soothing acoustic music. Returning to his desk, he opened the green journal and began to write, with over half an hour left.
.
Nearly forty minutes away from Sonnet's apartment complex was the Tapperton building in downtown Fillydelphia. This brick and stone building with over 80 floors was home to various businesses and organizations, including Sonnet's workplace, the BarnOwl Publishing House. Tonight, however, the employees of BarnOwl were not busy mulling about in either of the offices between floors 32 and 36 but were instead holding a party in the ballroom of the Tapperton's basement, hanging out with authors and book agents associated with the publishing house.
The ballroom was decorated with tables covered in fine cloth, streamers, and balloons. A banner hanging above the stage further down the room read "HAPPY 75TH ANNIVERSARY TO BARNOWL" with the publishing house's logo -- a friendly cartoonish owl waving his wing from the upper window of a simple barn -- on both sides of the phrase. Several tables with food and drinks were situated just below the stage, with three carts filled with alcoholic dispensers managed by the caterers from the BeanTown Brewery.
Despite festive music being blasted from the stage speakers, the uproar of jovial laughs and conversations could still be heard by all in the ballroom. Nearly every table was filled with ponies relishing the moments they spent with one another, with the single exception being Sonnet, who decided to reside at one of the smaller tables at the corner of the ballroom just near the stage. Despite over two-hundred ponies surrounding him, Sonnet felt that even the little privacy he had was just enough for him to feel as if he was stranded on his own personal island -- which to others would seem like a situation nopony would ever want to be in.
Instead of getting out to socialize, Sonnet saw it best to keep to himself -- with only a plate of hayfries and peppers stuffed with cheese and garlic and a mug of hard pineapple cider to be his companions. Even though the food tables behind him were bountiful enough to mimic a buffet, the earth pony's appetite was not big enough for him to be motivated to get more. The earth pony wanted nothing more than to be left alone, be done with this event as soon as possible, and then return home.
Aside from his headache from this morning, the party atmosphere of this place was intoxicating for Sonnet, as the pounding of music, laughter, and shouting drowned his brain under a sea of discomfort. As he dealt with this, he looked around the party to see if he could spot anypony that he recognized, and for the most part he only found co-workers that he had gotten to know on a somewhat close basis for nearly a year.
At one table, there was Pretty Pink, a hot-pink unicorn mare who worked in Design, and besides her was a teal earth pony stallion named Fancy Pastel, who joined Design two months after Sonnet arrived at BarnOwl. According to the rumors floating around the offices, the two of those had a thing for each other, but nopony had the intrusive character yet to ask them if they were dating. Not that he ever paid attention to such gossip in the first place, as far as Sonnet knew, the young ponies were simply good friends.
At another section of the ballroom, Sunny Forecast, a middle aged yellow pegasus mare involved in Sales, was having a polite and calm conversation with either two authors or an author and their book agent. At a table next to Sunny Forecast, two middle aged ponies were seemingly in the middle of a laughing fit over something they must have found hilarious. Sonnet recognized one as Busy Buddie, or B.B., a plump purple earth pony who was the head of the Production department. The other pony besides B.B. was Hot Topic, a white pegasus stallion who handled affairs in Marketing.
Through these ponies positive interactions with each other, Sonnet could see that the only pony that was not enjoying his time here was him. Even as he stared at the shimmering yellow liquid in his mug, he knew that the messy reflection of his face was one that was tired and devoid of enjoyment.
"I've been here for nearly an hour," Sonnet mumbled. "I just need to make through one more than I can go and get some sleep. I should try to find Blabbington or Inkwell before I go -- just to clear it with them."
Without warning, Sonnet caught a shadow move around the corner of his right eye. When he turned, the earth pony was greeted by a dark purple mare who had taken a seat next to him. The mare turned around to reveal herself to be a unicorn with a frazzled, messed up orange mane and a pair of pink eyes behind square glasses. The mare also wore a yellow sweater that covered her most of her torso but left her flanks alone, allowing her cutiemark, three white bunny heads and three buttercup flowers, to be exposed.
The mare, upon looking at Sonnet, beamed at him with a big smile that displayed her braces.
"Hello, Sonnet!" the purple mare shouted gleefully, hoping her raised voice had reached the stallion over the chaos.
Despite his attitude about being here, Sonnet, to his surprise, managed to have enough strength to curl his lips into a small smile.
"Hello there, Lavender," he greeted softly, hoping that he would not have to yell like she did.
"How are you enjoying the party?"
"Oh, uh..." Sonnet hesitated, knowing that, as much as he wanted to be frank, telling her the truth might make her more curious and the conversation more lengthy. "I'm doing okay. Nothing's really wrong."
A concerned frown grew on Lavender's face, and for a moment Sonnet was worried that he had been caught in his lie, but his worry passed away once she smiled again.
"Well, that's good to hear," Lavender said.
Relieved, Sonnet took a swig from his mug and began to eat one of the peppers he still had left. Before he could continue to another one, Lavender once again spoke up.
"Well, I'd just finished talking with Inkwell about the edits I made to chapters 12 and 13 of Maple Flower's latest book."
Knowing he would be talking with her for some time, Sonnet's attention moved away from the plate and to the purple unicorn. "Uh huh."
"Well I just told him that I thought that the events of chapter 13 seemed to be a little bit off. That is concerning how Clover wants to get Happy Hour to go with her to the carnival dance."
"Uh huh," Sonnet repeated with a dull, yet not annoyed, look on his face, before taking another sip of his cider.
"Well, um, have you gotten through with chapter 13?"
"Yes."
"It just seems out of character for Clover to plan on neglecting her family responsibilities in order to get with a colt. I mean, the other two books in the Honeywood Sisterhood clearly show that Clover's main character trait is her strong obligations to her friends and family."
"Yeah, I kind of noticed how her plans involves her doing things she wouldn't have done before."
"Yes!" Lavender exclaimed. "Exactly. I know this is Maple Flower's story and all, but I read ahead in the manuscript and Clover never seems bothered by what she did in order to get a date with Happy Hour. It would be one thing if Maple decided that Clover had to learn the hard way how commitment is important and that she shouldn't change her morals for some fancy guy, but there's no message like that in the story!"
Finishing his last sip of his drink, Sonnet placed the mug down and nodded in agreement. "Well, what did you tell Inkwell about this?"
"Well, I just told him of an edit I made for chapter 13, one in which Clover asked her parents to allow her to throw a high school party at the barn so that she could get closer to Happy Hour. We've seen that her parents are very caring and understanding, and it just seems in character for her to open up to her folks about how important this colt is to her. That small edit might mean that Maple might have to update her manuscript, but keeping Clover's character consistent may work better in the end. Don't you think so, Sonnet?"
The grey earth pony's attention that shifted away from his co-worker and towards the brewery carts below the stage. When Lavender saw that Sonnet's gaze was not returning back to her, she nudged his shoulder with her front hoof. "Sonnet!"
"Huh?" Upon the mare's intrusive touch, Sonnet flinched away and stared at Lavender with a confused scowl.
"Don't you think that my edit makes sense?"
By the time the gears in his head started to work properly, Sonnet tried his best to put on a sincere face.
"Oh, uh, well... Oh course, I think that your edit is on to something, but I don't know if my suggestions are the same as yours. To me, Clover should simply stop being shy and just tell her feelings straight to Happy Hour."
"That could also work. But Inkwell said that I shouldn't try to change the story too much, especially after JollyJoy made that complaint about our suggestions for chapters 1 through 9."
About hearing that name, Sonnet shuddered and gritted his teeth. "None of us should have to worry about JollyJoy. From what I heard, the Editing department had done a good job with the previous novels of the series, so Maple Flower shouldn't have a problem with the edits we've offered so far."
Despite his vocal complaint, Sonnet knew that his beef was more so with JollyJoy than it was with Maple Flower. His encounters with the author were tolerable, but any problems that he and his coworkers faced for the past two months had to do with Maple timidly agreeing with her book agent's insignificant or unreasonable demands. Even though Inkwell had been the head editor of BarnOwl when the publishing house adopted The Honeywood Sisterhood series, JollyJoy had made numerous attacks against his character -- stating that his proposals would water down the quality of the series that Maple's audience have loved for nearly a decade.
"JollyJoy's just looking out for Maple Flower's best interest," Lavender replied. "That's what a literary agent's supposed to do."
Annoyed that his coworker was siding with his current worst enemy, Sonnet sighed. "Well, if that mare truly cares about her client's best interest, she should replace herself with a more competent agent that doesn't bother editors and their assistants with garbage that doesn't improve the story's quality."
Lavender gasped. "Sonnet, that's a bit harsh. I don't think you would say that if she was here."
Please. The names I have in my head for her are way worse than that
The stallion chuckled. "Probably not, but what I said still has some merit."
Lavender opened her mouth as if she wanted to give a response, but whatever thought she wanted to express at first, she decided to eventually keep it to herself. None of Sonnet's comments were directed at nor intended to harm Lavender, yet he was certain that the negativity he displayed must have bummed her down a bit, especially since she had gotten along with Sonnet since he worked alongside her. But before the thought of making an apology for his crassness entered his head, the sharp squeal of a mic turned on drew his and others to turn their heads to the stage, where two middle aged stallions stood: the one by the mic stand was a plump brown unicorn in a black suit, and the other was a light blue unicorn with a black mane and tail who wore glasses.
When the attention of the party was focused on the two ponies, the sounds of conversations died down along with the music. The brown unicorn at the mic cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Hello there, everypony," he stated with a strong voice. "I'm so glad all of you could meet each other here tonight. I know that you've probably wondering why I, Mr. Blabbington, took so long to address all of you." The brown unicorn then gave an awkward chuckle and pointed a hoof to the blue unicorn. "Well, I want to ease any worries by stating that I simply had to have a simple conversation with my cousin Inkwell about some potential clients that BarnOwl might be receiving in the next month. As you all know, for over 75 years this publishing house has been responsible for introducing the public to the jaw-dropping works of many talented writers, and I am glad to state that I am certain that we'll continue to keep doing that for over another 75 years."
Once Blabbington finished his last sentence with another weirdly-placed laugh, Sonnet's eyebrows began to raise themselves up. Though the CEO of the publishing house was standing tall and strong in front of the audience and acting merrily, Sonnet had been close to him a few times to recognize that a nervous tic that Blabbington had was to chuckle whenever he heard something he did not like. Though he did not want to make a move right now, Sonnet began to wonder what was happening inside his employer's head.
"But to prevent myself from sidetracking, I would just like to give my many, many thanks and blessings to the authors and literary agents here today who have been a part of the BarnOwl family. Though the staff here is responsible for ensuring that your material is able to be published, read, and heard about, in the end of the day you put in the most work that allows us to stay afloat."
At the end of this compliment, several hooves around the ballroom were either clapped or stomped out of applause as cheers of thanks were roared out, with the scene being less of an amusement for Sonnet. Though he saw his boss as an expert of persuasive rhetoric at times, he still knew that much of the flattery that Blabbington put out was merely for show and barely genuine at time. Not that such pandering was that bothersome to Sonnet -- in the end of the day it was all for work.
When the excitement died down, Blabbington resumed. "Even though BarnOwl is appreciative of all of our writers, I would like to give special thanks to a few who have made financial contributions to the house through their own accord. Such as T.L. Scott who gave us around 3,000 bits; Orange Orchard and Spring Sparrow, who each contributed around 1,200 bits; and finally Hoppyscotch, who gave us an undeserving award of 7,000 bits! Thanks you, the four of you! Thank you very much."
When the four ponies mentioned stood up or raised their hooves for recognition, another set of cheers, clapping, and stomping ranged off, the noise of which was enough to bother Sonnet. Seeking comfort, the earth pony raised his mug to his lips, only for the little dribble of liquid to reach his lips as a reminder that he had ran out. Disappointed and hurt, Sonnet returned to eating his food, which, to his lack of surprise, had gone cold due to his neglect of them.
"However," Blabbington resumed, "I don't want to forget my gratefulness towards my staff. Without all of you, BarnOwl would never work as well as it should. Many have come and gone over the years since I became CEO, but for the most part, everypony that I see here has never let me down. For those who have worked here for so many years, you know how much your worth is, and if I tell all of you what I've said to you before, well, .... we'll all be here a bit longer than we want to be."
Another roar of laughter sounded off, which drove Sonnet to covering his ears.
"But nonetheless, I want to make some compliments that I believe need to be said. This year hasn't been very dynamic in terms of welcoming new members. Only three ponies have been added to the staff so far, but even with that being the case, I believe that these three have made serious contribution to BarnOwl, and therefore I want to give a shoutout! First, I like to thank our newest addition to the Design department, Fancy Pastel, who's done a swell job with creating beautiful artwork for many of the authors who have colts and fillies as their target audience. Please give him a good applause -- he's the green fellow over there."
Upon hearing his shoutout, Fancy Pastel rose out of his seat and waved enthusiastically to the crowd around him, with Pretty Pink patting him on the back and giving him a big smile in support.
"Then, of course, we have our new editorial assistants -- Lavender Dazzle and Sonnet Philosophy! I'm having a hard time spotting them -- oh, wait! They're just by the food tables down here!"
The mention of his name was enough for the grey stallion to jolt his head up for fear of being caught as a sullen pony. When he met the gaze of everypony staring at him, Sonnet could merely grin at them and weakly shake his hoof.
"Both of these young folks have been of much help to my cousin and editor, Inkwell. Little Lavender here is a graduate of the Oakheart University in New Horseleans. She's already had her own work published while off at college, but still felt the need to come to BarnOwl in order to gain experience and receive advice on how to add more spice to her writing."
Due to either the compliment and/or the cheers from the audience, the purple unicorn blushed at such attention, with her trying to hide her face in her orange mane. Nonetheless, she looked better off then Sonnet.
"And then there's Sonnet," Blabbington continued with an added chuckle. "I must tell you fillies and gentlecolts, I have never met a pony with such a colorful resume. Right after high school, this youngin' decided to serve his kingdom by enlisting in the Equestrian Army. Even though he served the minimum amount required, his service was still instrumental at moments, especially at Saddle Arabia. And after his honorable discharge, this stallion used his earnings to pay for his college education, where he became the head writer for the campus newspaper. I must say I am very blessed to have such a gifted stallion working under me. But moving on from my thanks, I want to mention how...."
Whether it was the embarrassment from being called out from out of nowhere, or the effects of his drink finally taking hold, Sonnet's senses began to dull, and he no longer was paying attention to Blabbington's rambunctious ramblings. His brain was so beaten down by distress that Sonnet almost considered sleeping through the rest of the party.
I just want to go home.
"Sonnet," a male voice spoke out.
Turning his head, Sonnet saw that Inkwell was standing between him and Lavender. Looking back at the stage, he saw that Blabbington was done with his speech and that the party had resumed its previous course with the music restored. When the blue unicorn called his name again, Sonnet looked back at him.
"Is everything alright, sir?" the grey earth pony asked, making sure his tiredness did not prevent him from showing manners.
Inkwell nodded. "Everything's fine. In a way. But I need to talk with you behind the stage."
"What's it about?"
"It nothing about you, don't worry. But you definitely to come with me."
Getting out of his chair was a bit difficult for the buzzed stallion, but once that simple task was done, Sonnet took the satchel underneath the table and placed it on. As he walked towards the stairs leading up to the stage, Lavender's voice slowed down his progress tailing Inkwell.
"Sonnet?" she asked.
Sonnet sighed. "Yes?"
Lavender nervously looked left and right before answering. "On Monday, before work or during breaks, can we go over each others edits of the story? I don't know if I mine are the types that Maple prefers. I always felt that yours were always better."
"I'm pretty sure you're just as good as me. I think whatever you planned out is okay. But if you want, we can compare."
Just as he thought he was done with one conversation, Sonnet found himself annoyed once more when a red earth pony stallion with purple hair and a tan and white suit appeared in front of him.
"Excuse, sir. Are you done with your drink?"
Confused about that question, Sonnet struggled to find an answer to give, until the red stallion pointed to the mug left at his tables. "Those are the brewery's mugs. Our boss really wants to make sure that we don't lose them here. At least as many as we can save."
Clarity shone from Sonnet's worn face. "Oh, you're a caterer. Well, no, I don't need that mug anymore." I just hope Blabbington or Inkwell can let me go home.
Once the caterer headed to the table, Sonnet raced up the stairs and trotted to the stage curtain. When he crossed the other side, he was met by Inkwell, Mr. Blabbington, B.B., and several department heads of BarnOwl. The moment the grey earth pony came into the area, he was met with worried faces, none which he had seen when the party was going on. Even Blabbington, who was optimistic no less than half an hour ago, was clearly bothered by something.
"I'm glad you're here, son," the CEO said as Sonnet approached the group.
"Is everything okay, sir?" Even though Sonnet felt a little victory for being right on his hunch before, the tension emitting from everypony else placed him on edge.
"Well, son, everything is okay for now. But I don't know if it'll stay that way in the next few months."
A slight scowl soon formed on the stallion's face. "Sir, I really don't understand." At this point, Sonnet was sure that everypony was aware of how tired and frustrated he was. "What's going on? Why did you need to talk to me now?"
"Damn it! It's all your fault!" one of the department heads blew up. At first, Sonnet assumed that outburst was meant for him, but then saw that the department head was pointing angrily at one of his own.
"My fault?" the accused shouted in defense.
"If you had done your damn research on her and on the issue correctly, we wouldn't be in this hellstorm we're about to face! You're the one who edited her book!"
"That research came out just two months before the book was released! Not everypony was aware of it that soon!"
A screaming match between the two was coming to a start until Inkwell placed himself in the middle of the fight.
"That's enough," he said calmly, before looking at Sonnet. "Sonnet, do you know anything about Meadow Honeydew, and her book about the lilly-dozy trees in the Unicorn Range?"
"The name and the tree sound familiar," Sonnet answered, "but I don't know anything about the book."
"Well, three years ago BarnOwl published Honeydew's book The Battle Between Industry and Nature: How Equestria Must Take Better Care of Her Lands. A large portion of the book talked of how the extraction of glitter maple from the lilly-dozy trees harmed the ecosystem of the Unicorn Range. After the book accomplished large sales, companies and industries working near the Range were pressured by protestors and politicians to halt glitter maple extraction."
"Okay," Sonnet said. "But why is that a problem for us?"
The stallion who had erupted in an outburst, and was still somewhat angry, laughed unsettingly.
"Well," he started, "the funny thing is two months before the book was published, a team of researchers from the Canterlot University discovered that the ecosystem problems in the Unicorn Valley were not solely because of the extraction of glitter maple from the trees, but rather because of a failed agricultural project many years ago -- in which the magic used in the damn project made the plants more reliant on the lilly-dozy trees."
Inkwell then chimed back in the conversation. "Yes. The researchers found that extracting glitter maple from lilly-dozy trees outside of the Range had no harmful effects on the surrounding ecosystems. And it wasn't until recently that the companies who had to stop extracting the maple found out by the research. Now those businesses are suing BarnOwl for for publishing misleading information and for improper research on the topic."
Sonnet's eyes widen. "But.... But the research came out just two months before the book got out. Couldn't they understand that we wouldn't have know about that until much later?"
Inkwell shook his head."Sadly, that fact doesn't make a difference. The companies are adamant that we should have done a better job of keeping up to date with newly released studies. And considering these companies lost a lot of money from abandoning the maple extraction business, I doubt BarnOwl will be allowed to escape this mess."
Blabbington walked over to a stunned Sonnet and placed his hoof on the employee's shoulder. "You see, son, we called you here because we really need your help. In about a week or so, we'll need to address this issue to the public. Even though your just an assistant, you're still one of our best writers. We just need you to help with making a respectful, yet strong, statement declaring that BarnOwl had did its best with finding and supplying as many facts as possible when working on Honeydew's story. We just need you to do that, son. So what do you say?"
The few seconds that passed by as Blabbington and the others waited for an answer felt like slow minutes to Sonnet instead. The news that he had received placed the earth pony's mind further on edge. It was bad enough that he had to be dragged out of his house for the party he had no real role in, but now his place of employment, which he had only settled into for nearly a year, was now at risk of being disgraced and losing accreditation due to an unforeseeable mistake. If he wanted to stay in the writing business, Sonnet knew that his future depended on whether or not the places he had worked for would give him the needed recognition and praise that would boost him up to higher places in life. Trying to defend BarnOwl could prove disastrous for him if the lawsuit ruined the company, even if Sonnet was not an employee at the time that book was published.
"Son, did you hear me?" Blabbington's echoes reached through Sonnet's worried mind. "Can you do this for us?"
With his attention focused on his boss, Sonnet struggled to find the right words to say next. He couldn't simply tell them that he needed to leave in order to save his career right now -- it would be too soon and he still needed to wait for his next pay to come through. But if this statement could potentially save the publishing house from disaster, then maybe Sonnet could still hesitate on leaving. That was until it became obvious that this issue would never end well.
With a gulp, Sonnet spoke. "Of course, sir. Just tell me when to make the statement."
To his joy, Sonnet saw a wave of relief wash on Blabbington's face, and that relief soon spread to the rest of the ponies on stage, though it could be assumed that none of them were fully cured of the anxiety and tension from the knowledge they all had.
"Thank you, son. I greatly appreciate this. We all do. How about you go on home? I could tell you were a bit worn out from everything tonight."
Sonnet smiled softly. "Thank you, sir." That's at least one win for today.
Blabbington and the other department heads exited from out of the stage curtain, and with each passing pony, Sonnet's stress was eased ever more slightly. The last one to reach the curtain was Inkwell, who turned to beam at his assistant.
"I'm glad you're deciding to do this," he said cheerfully. "I'm awfully nervous about all of this. Lavender and the others don't need to know about this until the statement is released, so just keep it to yourself if you don't mind."
Sonnet's smile weakened a bit. "Of course."
"I know you're gonna make me proud with this statement. You've never let me down before."
That compliment made it harder for the grey earth pony to retain his mask as he looked down. "Absolutely."
The departure of the blue unicorn allowed Sonnet to be more honest with himself, as he frowned at his hooves on the floor. For nearly a minute, the stallion stared down in shame, knowing his supposed commitment to the publishing house could be exposed in the next coming days. When the time came for him to remove himself from his state of despair, Sonnet lifted his head up and exited the stage.