"...And that's when I said 'That's not a coat hanger, that's my wife!'"
It had only been a few minutes since the three stallions; Big Mac, Colton Vines, Caramel, and yourself, began in the direction of Ponyville's pub and already you had heard three stories, six puns, and seven knock-knock jokes from Caramel.
"Are we there yet?" you whisper to Big Mac. He shakes his head in response and continues to trot forward. You let out an audible sigh and continue to follow.
"I did not know you had a wife chap," Vines says to Caramel.
"Well, no. But the joke was, ya know," Caramel replied, slightly distracted. You had noticed that it was some unspoken contest between Vines and Caramel to see if Vines could catch a part of Caramel's story that didn't quite add up. Caramel's first story was about last year's Winter Wrap Up and how somepony had lost the seeds for planting when Caramel had singlehoofedly fought for the seeds against a manticore, became the town hero, and impressed the mare of his dreams. Vines then corrected the story by sharing how Caramel has misplaced the seeds, but then found them back at home right where he'd left them the night before. Caramel retorted by saying his story was more campfire appropriate.
Caramel's next story was about how he had attended the Grand Galloping Gala and courted a local fashion designer by the name of Rarity to spending a romantic night with him. Vines again shared his side of the story and told how Caramel was used to pull the carriage of Rarity and her friends.
Just as Caramel was about to start up another story, you turned your attention to the sky. It was only a quarter past seven at the most, but being winter time, the days became shorter and the nights longer. The sky was in late twilight with dark blues and light purples. The night's first stars had just begun to shine through the open sky and dot the cosmos above. You close your eyes as you trot and recall a time back in your childhood.
You were young, around fourteen years old and laying outside on the porch with you father. You remember your fathers coat was a dark and rich yellow and he had a light brown mane. Your father had brought out a small MPC, a turntable, and an eight channel mixer. Two sets of headphones were connected to an eight channel mixer, one set sat on your head and your father was wearing the other. A soft melody emitted from your headphones and coursed through your body. Every few nights your father would allow you to stay up an extra half hour or so past your bedtime so the two of you could watch the night sky together. Your father told he that he always looked to the night sky for inspiration.
"Nice night isn't it kiddo?" your father says aloud. You slide the headphones so one side still covers an ear and the other is off your ear so you can still hear the music while your father speaks.
"Out in the cold again you two? Just what am I going to do with the two of you?" you hear a voice behind you. You turn your head and find your mother with a concerned look on her face and a blanket on her back. She then takes a place beside you, putting you in between her and your father. Your mother spreads out her blanket, sharing the warmth with your father and you.
"Sam? We're here," Big Mac's voice sounded, waking you from your day dream. Vines and Caramel were looking at you with confused faces, probably wondering why you were staring off into space.
"So we are, sorry about that. Daydreaming," you explained. You look up at the building and take in it's charm. The words 'On The Rocks: Bar and Pool Hall' were illuminated in giant florescent green lights along with many other smaller neon signs of popular brands of liquor. You enter the bar and hold the door open for your new acquaintances.
"Oh it's you three, again," a feminine voice sounds behind you. The voice belonged to a cream colored unicorn with a burgundy mane. Mac just smiled and trotted up to her. Upon closer inspection, the unicorn had baby blue eyes and an orange tiger lily in her mane. Cute.
"Eyup, we're here to start up some trouble, 'gain," Mac responded with a gentle smile.
"Oh and you brought a friend," she spoke and turned her attention to you.
"Yep, I'm new here. Sam," you introduced yourself and held out a hoof.
"Roxanne, but call me Roxy or I'll see you kicked out. Sorry to see you with these hooligans, let me know if they give you any trouble," she jokes and shakes your hoof. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Mac roll his eyes.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," you respond.
"Sit wherever and someone will get to you," she says and heads back to the bar.
The four of you head to a booth in the corner and sit down. You notice the inside of the bar is a lot more decorated then you would have thought from looking at the outside. Neon covered the bar in form of signs and clocks which reflected of the polished surfaces of the floor and tables. Sharing the wall with signs, multiple band posters were hung up as well, most of them signed. Equestrian Buck, The Colt, Deftmanes, Nine Inch Hooves, and Stone Trottin' Pilots, were a few to catch your eye.
"I've got the first round guys," Caramel says and trots to the bar. You then turn to Big Mac and Vines.
"So, I know Mac runs an apple orchard, but what do you do Vines?" you ask.
"I tend to my grape vine. Most goes to creating fine wine, the rest I sell," he responds happily.
"White, red, Merlot?" you ask.
"A bit of everything, but the majority is white wine. My grandfather started the vine when Ponyville was first getting settled and it's been passed down the family tree," Vines explains.
"Interesting, what about Caramel?" you ask.
"I'm a farm helper. I lend a hoof to whoever needs me," Caramel answers and slides a tray off of his back and on to the table. Four martini glasses were on the try with a blue liquid inside.
"What about you?" Vines asks as he takes a glass.
"I'm... in the music business. I DJ for small nightclubs and bars," you half-lie and take a sip of your martini. You notice it's a gin martini and choke down a sip.
"Oh oh! Do you know DJ P0N-3? She's so cool," Caramel exclaims. DJ P0N-3, aka Vinyl Scratch, now that's a name you're well familiar with, but that's a flash back for another time.
"Yeah, I've met her once or twice," you mumble and finish off your drink with a sour face. Vines then rustles through his saddle bag and brings out a deck of cards.
"Twenty-one this time chaps?" Vines asks. Caramel and Big Mac nod their heads, you nod in agreement.
"What we do here is play to see who buys the next round. The player with the least amount of wins buys the drinks," Caramel explains. Now you've played card games before, but you certainly were not a card shark.
* * *
"Eyup."
"Well, I'll say."
"Another win for Mr.C."
"I'll go get the next round, again."
This was the fourth round. The. Forth. Round. You knew you were not the best at cards, but this was certainly your unlucky day. All the luck in the world seemed to be showering Caramel tonight. Never in your wildest dreams would you suspect Caramel to have the best poker face of the table.
You didn't mind paying for the drinks, you could probably live in Canterlot amongst the social elite if you wanted to, but your father taught you the values of having good friends and experiencing the world rather than hording material goods, but would winning one game of black jack be asking too much?
You make your way over to the counter and order four shots of Patron with a slice of lime for each shot. Back at the table, you set the tray down and everypony grabs a shot glass.
"Any of you ever had Patron before?" you ask. You are answered with your acquaintances shaking their heads.
"Alright. Take the shot, and then suck on the lime. Trust me," you explain. You give an example by throwing back your shot. A burning liquid fills your mouth and you swallow. The smooth liquor slides down your throat and warms your stomach. Instantly after, you bite into the wedge of lime and suck its sour juices into your mouth to cancel out the burning. You nod to the others and they follow your example.
"By Celestia's beard," Vines gasps and squints his eyes. To your left Caramel chokes on his shot and is clearly having difficulty forcing it down. Big Mac however, takes it like the stallion he is and lets out a warm breath.
"Th-that was... woah mang... shhhhffff," Caramel slurs and leans into you. You look to Vines and Big Mac for help.
"And he is gone," Vines chuckles.
"Eyup," Mac agrees. Just what you need right now, a clingy drunk sitting right next to you.
"T-this is why we sit across from Caramel," Vines explains before bursting out in hysterics. Mac just nods his head and your use this opportunity for a proper facehoof.
"So Mac, tell me about yourself. Surely you don't run the farm by yourself?" you ask trying to start up conversation.
"Welp, I have the help of mah two sisters Apple Jack and Apple Bloom. Course there's Granny Smith too, she takes care of all tha bakin'," Mac explains.
"He also enjoys readin', deep conversations, an loooooong walks on tha beach," Caramel snorts and giggles to himself.
"I see, is it nice having a big family?" you ask.
"Eyup, aside from tha three ah live with, there are Apples all 'round Equestria," Mac replies.
"How about you, Sam? Tell us about yourself chap," Vines inquires. You stop and think for a moment. At first you don't think this is a good idea, not sure you want to reveal so much about yourself to some ponies you just met. Then again, if you really are going to be staying in Ponyville for some time, the truth is going to come out sooner or later.
Caramel slides another tray of martinis on the table, seems he left for more while you were lost in thought. You take a glass and bring it to your lips. Vodka martini this time, much better.
"Well, my father was a DJ," you start, "named Frequency. DJ Freq. He was popular in the United Clopdom where he was born. After I was born, he and my mother moved to Equestria to settle down. He was my inspiration, the reason I picked up DJ-ing. He passed away when I was seventeen."
"I am sorry for your loss," Vines spoke. Big Mac and Caramel lowered their heads as well, offering their sympathy.
"My mother then chose to move to Ponyville and insisted I continue to follow my DJ career. I made sure to write and visit her as often as I could. She passed away two weeks ago, I inherited her house and have been living here for about a week," you continued.
"You are Night Lily's son? By Celestia, she would talk about you all the time. I could have sworn her son was named... Amp or something though," Vines said.
"Amplitude, Sam is kind of a nickname. How did you know my mother?" you ask, interested in how Vines and your mother knew each other. None of the three Stallions seemed to catch on to your name. Big Mac looked more like the type to be into country and you could see Vines as a classical kind of stallion. Caramel might have been able to recognize your name, as he knew Vinyl, but he seemed too far under the table to catch much of anything right now.
"She had a taste for fine wine, so she and I got to know each other quite well. She was always so proud of you, it's good to finally meet you in pony," he explained. You were taken aback however, and lost your response. You knew she had always been proud of you, but you never know she expressed it to others. A wet sensation ran down your cheek and you wiped it away with a hoof.
"I am sorry, I did not mean to-" Vines started before you cut him off.
"No, no. Don't worry about it. I'm fine," you reassure him.
"Welp, ah suppose it's time to git on outta here," Mac announces. You're not sure if this was from your small break down or not, but you were happy to get moving.
* * *
"Thanks Big Mac, this is it," you say at Big Mac and you arrive, or rather stumble, at your new house. Vines and Caramel had split from your path to head home, but Mac wanted to make sure you made it home safely.
"Eyup. You weren't too annoyed with Caramel were ya?" he asks. A chuckle escapes your mouth before you can stop it. This is why he walked you home? Well, it's better than a love confession.
"No, not at all. He's hyper, but I can tell he's a good colt," you respond.
"Alright, G'night then," He says.
"Goodnight," you respond and enter your house.
With Big Mac gone and you finally to yourself, your thought focus back on what Vines said. Your mother had talked about you, missed you. You should have been here for her, at least in her last few days. She never told you about her illness. Anger built up inside, she should have told you. Buck your career and buck your tours, you weren't here when she needed you most.
You plop down on a familiar blue recliner and pound your hoof against a wooden table in front of you. You strike it again and again until your hoof throbs with pain. Bottled up emotions finally begin to overflow and fill out. You feel all or your anger, sorrow, and confusion pour out of your eyes in the form of hot tears. You scream as loud as you can into the night.