//------------------------------// // I’m Only Waiting For Death. // Story: Sweet Madness // by Get Bent //------------------------------// A stallion sighed as he walked through Canterlot’s marketplace, his hooves hot on the warm stone, his mane matted against his head. Which was strange in its own right. It wasn’t a hot day, in fact the day was actually… very beautiful. His hooves shouldn’t be suffering that much, and he shouldn’t be that sweaty! Topple had just forgotten his good shoes at home. …and he could’ve worn a hat, he guessed. Speaking of Topple, birds chirped, the wind blew cold, and Celestia’s beautiful sun shone brightly. …Yet he couldn’t help but feel down. Why? Well, the reason he felt down was quite the obvious one. At least, obvious to him. He was living it, after all. “I’m broke,” He thought to himself, staring longingly at a jar of jam. The sign next to the jar, red text on an off-white piece of paper, read ‘6’. It was a six-bit jar of strawberry jam. Six bits! For a small jar of jam! It was a scam, he knew that much, but technically; the entirety of Canterlot could be considered a scam. You just had to ask the right ponies. And Topple… well, he considered himself one of these ponies. He was a working class earth pony in Canterlot. He knew all about the pricing of things. He knew how much he made. How much COULD be made. Upon doing his calculations, though, he found he was: -doomed from the start- He chuckled at his joke, trying to ignore the painful truth behind it. Being an earth pony in canterlot was like being a yak in Cloudsdale. You just didn’t belong. He shook his head as he continued walking through the market, looking down at his list occasionally. He knew what was on it, but he still found himself looking down, almost as if he was hoping more things would be added when he looked. Like checking the pantry again and hoping there’s more food inside. His list was small, and it was only stuff he could afford. Which he absolutely hated. It made him feel broke. ”You are broke, dipshit,” He thought to himself. He frowned, and checked the list again. +Celery+ +Peanut Butter+ …he hated that feeling. That feeling of having to only buy things to survive. Not to enjoy them, but just so you get something in your stomach. It was the worst. …But it was his life. He snorted and walked up to a celery stand. The snobbish looking unicorn at the stand seemed to instinctually turn his nose up as Topple approached. A classic Canterlot pony move. …The stand itself was nothing special, despite the stallion’s appearance. Black text on a white background didn’t really say ‘Canterlot’s finest’, so Topple presumed that maybe it wasn’t his. Maybe he stole it, or he really is just that boring. It could be anything. But frankly, Topple didn’t really care enough to ask the guy. Despite the plain appearance of the stand, however, there was no pricing shown, which meant one thing: The stallion at the stand was going to be a total donkey and price gouge with whoever he saw fit. Topple grumbled, but quietly, so that the snob didn’t pick up on it. He then opened his mouth. “How much?” The unicorn eyed Topple, and then snorted. “Five bits.” Topple gawked at him. That was… reasonable. No racism? No snobbishness? No ‘25 bits for being an earth pony’? Maybe it really wasn’t his stand… Topple removed five bits from his coin purse and traded it for a… stalk. Bushel? of celery. A thing of celery. He put it in his left-hoof saddle bag and continued on his way. “Huh.” He muttered. “That was easier than I thought.” He had the peanut butter and he had the celery. He was done shopping. His mood had begun to improve slightly. He hadn’t spent that much money, that stallion gave him a good price, the weather was still nice… Hey, that rhymed! He continued walking, a smile beginning to form. But then he stopped. And he stared. …And his mood instantly shifted. It was that mare. The one who owned the business down the street; The one who was stealing all of his business. He burned a hole in the back of her head with his gaze. He was furious. Furious and… jealous. He stopped. …He was jealous. He shook his head, He turned around, And he walked away. “Being jealous only hurts ponies.” He muttered. “It doesn’t help them.” He knew better than to be jealous over something stupid like that. His parents raised him to be above ponies like that. …so why did he still feel so envious of their success? It wasn’t a good feeling. But he couldn’t help it. His restaurant was failing and theirs was thriving. …What was he doing wrong? He sighed and continued walking. His restaurant was only a little further. After that, he could think all he wanted as he tried to get some sleep. That’s usually how his brain did it. He was tired all day until he actually lied down. Funny how the pony body works sometimes. He walked up on his restaurant, and stared at the front of it. Going over every detail. The red logo, faded after all these years of use, yet still functioning, proudly showed the name: Topper’s Pizza. The windows on the front, clean from a recent wipe-down, showed the interior of the restaurant. The lights were off, but the windows were still able to give you a look inside. The four-star rating on the outside of his restaurant sat there proudly, but he noticed that not many other restaurants had it, instead opting for a design of three horseshoes. He didn’t know what it meant, but those restaurants were doing better than him. Maybe he should switch the stars out for shoes. But other than that, his restaurant was in good condition. The building was REALLY OLD, as he’s said in the past, but shouldn’t that make ponies more drawn to it than anything? Ponies love that ‘nostalgia’ crap. So why wasn’t he getting any bucking customers? He huffed, and unlocked his door. No point thinking about it out in the sun. The door swung wide as he stepped inside. Navigating through the dark was going to be easier this time because of the sunlight coming in through the windows. After a few moments of stumbling around, he walked up his steps and unlocked his house. …home. A rather dingy place, he’s begun to notice. His family had always seemingly struggled with money, and as he grew up and became more cynical, he noticed the state of things. How most of his stuff was more based on sentimental value than anything. He was appreciative for his stuff, of course, but he couldn’t help but think about if it was acquired at a yard sale or not. He frowned and took off his saddle bags, placing them on the dining room table soon after. He put his celery in the ice box and left the peanut butter out. He didn’t need to put that away yet. It was just gonna go into the pantry anyway. He rubbed his eyes, and yawned. He needed a nap. Running a hoof through his mane, he walked over to his couch. Most likely a couch taken off the street. One that had a ‘FREE’ sign on it. The couch was comfy enough, though. Lying down, he figured he could try and get some sleep. …Which he did. He really must’ve been tired. He didn’t dream. He never dreamed. Not since his parents died and he acquired this stupid restaurant. Topple woke up a few hours later. …He didn’t feel rested. Not at all. He had a metallic taste in his mouth, and he found himself more tired than he was before. He hadn’t dreamed and he hadn’t gotten rest. As usual. He sighed, and looked at the clock on the wall. He had to open up in a few hours. …Open up for nopony. The room, dark from the windows being covered, felt imposing. It wasn’t relaxing as it should’ve been. She wanted to sleep. She just couldn’t. She kept tossing and turning in her bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Tossing and turning literally. After accidentally hitting her horn on the bed frame, she stopped moving as she let the pain run its course. Lord, that hurt. Hitting a unicorn horn was like sending an entire electric shock through their body. It was like hitting your funny bone but worse. … Princess Luna couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep for a variety of reasons. Things like: The Zebricon treaty, One of her butlers ACTUALLY getting hurt, And Topple. Heh. Topple. Topple, Topple. She sighed. She was losing sleep over a stallion. …Upon realizing what she had thought, she blushed slightly. That sounded like she had a crush on him. She chuckled at the idea. Her and Topple? Maybe in another universe. …anyway. She had been worried about Topple. And that was for one reason. Every time she checked the dream realm, she couldn’t find his dream bubble. And it wasn’t a matter of her ‘missing it’. She could search for dreams. She just… couldn’t find his. He didn’t have a dream bubble. Which meant that he wasn’t dreaming. …which could mean a few different things. He could just not dream. However, this is unlikely. No pony had ever just not dreamt. Even Luna dreamt. It was a little rare, but she did dream. Another likelihood, though, is that his body isn’t allowing him to dream. As a defense mechanism. Not dreaming as a defense mechanism. She’s done research on it before. If the body is under enough stress, the body will stop allowing you to dream, as it fears it can cause irreversible damage. It’s why ponies don’t often die of heart attacks from dreams they have. …but while this is the more likely option, it’s also one of the worst. Topple was under so much stress that his body feared he could have a heart attack and die in his dreams. And that was what was keeping her up. She knew what was causing the stress, of course. She wasn’t an idiot. It was the lack of customers. The thing she wasn’t allowed to mention around him. She forbade herself. She had only ever been around during the night, so she obviously can’t get that hint from her visits, but she’s checked up on it during the day; when she got the chance. She had wanted to confirm her suspicion. Why Topple actually got upset at the mention of no customers. So when she flew by his restaurant and saw the lights on, the doors open, Yet no customers? …Her heart had hurt for Topple. Her heart continued to hurt for Topple. So young yet struggling so hard. “Oh Topple.” She whispered. “How I wish I could do more.” … You can do more. No she couldn’t. … Whatever you say... Shaking her head, Luna mushed a pillow into her face and groaned. She was never getting to sleep, was she?