With a strangled squeak April Rain rolled off the edge of her mattress and crashed headfirst into the unforgiving hardwood floor. Groaning, she sat up slowly and rubbed the quickly forming knot on her forehead. It was a good thing that there weren't any sheets on the bed due to the summer heat—otherwise she’d be busy trying to untangle herself from them right now.
Though it was mid-morning, the lighting in the room was quite muted. Sunlight had to struggle to make its way past the large apartment complex adjacent to the tiny two-story boarder house she lived in. It also explained why the ‘garden’ she had been trying to grow on the windowsill to lower her expenses had never panned out—well that and her tendency to kill any houseplants she got her hooves on. Despite the lack of direct sunlight and the early hour, it was already ghastly hot in her room. She frowned up at the old rusted hunk of metal that passed for a ceiling fan as it made a halfhearted attempt to turn.
At least the studio had air conditioning. She had promised herself that she’d spend all of today working. VAVA's art show was only two weeks away and she had nothing to display. It was time to get a move on. April ran a hoof through her mane and grimaced at how greasy it felt. Her hide was soaked with sweat, as was her undergarments. “I probably should shower and get dressed first,” she said to herself.
Throwing on her robe and grabbing a change of clothes from the closet, she headed out the door and down the hall to the communal bathroom. Luckily it was unoccupied. She turned on the shower and was hit with a hot blast of water. Fiddling with the shower knob didn't make the water any cooler, so she scrubbed herself clean as quickly as she could. By the time she got dressed she felt like a boiled lobster. Maybe a little breakfast would help her feel better.
“Hey, babe.” A male voice called to April, bringing the mare’s journey to the first floor to a halt.
She gritted her teeth and did her best to resist the urge to smash her head against the nearest wall. She turned to the stallion and addressed him as civilly as she could. “What do you want, Zack?”
The stallion in question was named Zack Lee. He lived across the hall from April—and was the bane of her existence. He leaned against the door to his apartment and leered at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “It sure is hot today babe, and I’m not talking about the weather.” He looked her over a bit before his eyes settled on her flank. “Hmm… I see that you’re fresh out of the shower.”
April struggled to keep a neutral expression. “Zack, I've got to run and-“
“What’s going on, April? How you been?” He made no move to make eye contact with her.
She tried to smile at him, but only managed to bare her teeth. “I’m pretty good. How are you?”
He grinned at her and ran a hoof through his greased-back mane. He puffed out his chest to show off the low-cut shirt he was wearing and the toned, brown chest beneath it. “I feel fantastic with you around. Listen, April, how about you and me get together sometime soon? Like tonight? The Pavilion is really cooking this week. We could pop some Raptures, do a little close dancing, and come back to my place for a little fun." He moved a few steps closer until he stood next to her. He slung a hoof over her shoulder. "How about it?”
April sidestepped and slipped out of his grip. “Let me think about it.”
The smile slipped from his face a little and he finally looked her in the eye. “Sure, you can think about it. Just don’t take too long, or I’ll be gone. There are other birds in the sea. I've got to go, but you know where to find me when you change your mind.” With a flick of his tail, the stallion disappeared into his room and shut the door behind him.
April Rain stared at the door as she counted silently in her head. Finally she turned and headed downstairs. “What an asshole.”
Following her nose, April made her way to the kitchen and flopped down at the table. She lay her head down on it and sighed heavily. A cream-colored hoof pushed a bowl of oatmeal in front of her. “Thanks, Fiona,” she said, smiling at her landlady.
The older mare smiled back at her before grabbing a bowl of her own and sitting down next to her tenant. “Had another run in with Zack today, did we darling?”
April grunted.
Fiona chuckled, but sobered quickly and patted April on the shoulder. “You should really stay away from him, dear. He likes the thrill of the chase. Those ones never settle down.”
“Why don’t you kick him out?” April flashed her teeth in a feral grin.
“You know I can’t do that. He hasn't done anything specifically against the rules, even if he does bring a few mares home now and then. That stallion has some connections despite his playcolt attitude. Plus… he’s not very good at picking up mares to begin with.”
They both laughed at that.
Fiona stopped first, and looked at April critically. “That’s not what’s really bothering you, is it? Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.”
April sighed. “I had a bad nightmare.”
“Again? Well, you’re not the only one, darling. Mickey woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. She wouldn't go back to sleep until I made her a cup of herbal tea.”
The younger mare blinked. “Mickey’s been having nightmares?”
Fiona nodded. “Apparently she is, though she refused to tell me what they were about. I think she’s embarrassed.”
April thought of the middle-aged mare. Mickey was twice the age of Fiona and served as a pillar to support their mismatched household. She was as solid as a rock and unflappable in any disaster. “That doesn't sound like Mickey.”
The older mare nodded, brow furrowed. “I know, darling. Don’t tell her I said so, but I've never seen her more agitated in my life. She scared the hell out of me.”
April nodded. ‘What can I possibly say that would help?’ she thought. She decided the best answer was to remain silent.
The older mare did not let the silence last for very long. “Why don’t you just tell Zach that you like mares? It worked for Mickey and me.” Fiona winked at her.
April smiled ruefully and shook her head. “Lying wouldn't work. It only worked for you because you and Mickey prove that it’s the truth every day,” she said, then paused to look around the kitchen. “Where is Mickey anyways? Or everyone else for that matter?”
“I imagine you noticed the water problem this morning?” the cream-coated mare asked.
The younger mare nodded.
“Mickey’s down in the basement, up to her barrel in that filthy canal water trying to get the pipes fixed. She’ll be tied up for a while. Mind you, she’s not literally tied up—although that is a tempting thought.” Fiona grinned and licked her lips.
April sighed and rubbed her temples before looking at the other mare critically. “Are we getting into your sexual fantasies here, Fiona? Because it’s a little too early in the morning for that, don’t you think?”
The landlady giggled like a little filly. “Sorry dear, I can’t help myself. Charlie’s still sleeping, and Emma just went to bed. I saw her come in while I was making breakfast. Do you know who she’s seeing now?”
April shrugged. “I don’t know. Some guy. I don’t really keep track anymore.”
Fiona frowned and slammed a hoof into the table, making the other mare jump. “She’s too good for those arseholes. I wish she’d find a stallion who’d treat her right for once.”
The young mare shook her head. “ I've tried talking to her, but Emma’s… impulsive. She doesn't listen.” She sighed and toyed with the spoon she was holding, no longer interested in eating.
“She’s just as headstrong as you and me, darling. She’s smart and resourceful, and not afraid to speak up for herself. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” The older mare smiled impishly. “Now about your own love life…”
April popped up out of her chair like her tail was on fire. “ I've got to get to the studio. There’s a lot of work to do. Goodbye, Fiona. Thanks for the food. I’ll see you later.” She dumped her bowl in the sink and headed out the door, followed closely by Fiona’s gleeful cackling.
April didn't slow down until she was safe outside the boarder house. She frowned at the building. Usually, the large mural painted across the front of the building made her feel better, but today she was too irritated to be soothed by its calming forest of greens and browns. It was the one thing that had drawn her to this tiny building—she'd stumbled across it after running away from home some months before. It was fairly inexpensive as well, a factor made obvious by its location right on Newport’s waterways.
Once upon a time, the little Newport district was hailed as the world’s ‘New Venice’, and was home to a thriving community of wealthy entrepreneurs. It was a draw for tourists, who came from all around the world to ride little gondolas around its waterways. Perhaps ‘Venice’ was a good name for the place, since it followed the same path of decline as the original. It started when the Excel Corporation decided to pull up roots and move their production facilities to a new city a few generations back. Without the only mega-corporation in the area around to provide jobs, the economy went down the tubes in a hurry. As the city went into bankruptcy and the infrastructure fell into disrepair, the tourism dried up as well. The formerly scenic waterways were now putrid and brown, choked with rust and waste. Those who could afford to move relocated to the city’s maze of tall high rise buildings, poking up through the low-lying layer of smog that shrouded the city where they were well out of reach of the foul odors emanating from the polluted water far below. The poorer folk that moved into the old, dilapidated buildings that had been left behind could only do their best to hold their breaths and push on. Now in the heat of an Indian summer, the stench was especially bad.
April coughed and wrinkled her nose. It was something she’d never get used to. Sighing, she headed across the rusted old bridge that connected the boarder house to the ‘central axis’, a rotunda of interconnected walkways, one of which lead to the studio. As she crossed the bridge, the echo of her hooves caused the old stallion who was sitting on the bench next to the bridge to look up.
“Oye, señorita!”
She looked at the reddish brown stallion and sighed. Cortez was one of the last ponies she wanted to see right now. His rambling stories and philosophical talk was quite draining and her energy was low to begin with. “Yes?”
“How are you this morning, señorita bonita?” He smiled at her.
“I’m fine, and you?” April found his unwavering stare was a little disconcerting, making her feel like a specimen under glass.
Cortez chuckled. “Sunshine and pretty señoritas give an old man like me the blues. I like my days cold and rainy.” He looked at the mural with sad eyes. “In fact, I think I’d prefer the world to be in black and white.”
“Like an old movie,” April stated. She was starting to feel more relaxed.
The stallion’s eyes sparkled. “Like all good movies. But tell me, señorita Rain… how would you describe your perfect day?”
“I like my days hot and sunny, like this one.”
He smiled broadly and spread his arms. “Well, then you should be happy to be alive today, yes?” His expression sobered and he shook his head. “But you are not happy, are you. You are troubled by nightmares.”
His words struck April Rain like a physical blow. Her heartbeat sped up and she found herself gasping for breath. Fear held her frozen in place. “What?”
“You are afraid of them. You even fear your dreams may be real.”
As he spoke, the numbness was replaced with white hot anger. Her body tensed and she glared at him. “Who told you about my nightmares?” she hissed, pinning her ears back.
“No one told me. I can tell from looking into your eyes. I see the ghosts that haunt you.”
April stamped and tossed her head. Her voice was cold and hard when she answered him. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but from now on, stay the hell away from me and my personal life!”
He shook his head. “No puedo, señorita Rain. You have a destiny.”
She snorted at him, flaring her nostrils wide with each huffing breath. “Destiny? I don’t care what you think; just… just leave me alone!”
“If you do not face them, I’m afraid your nightmares will continue. Soon, they will appear to you even when you’re awake.”
“You need some serious help, you know that?” she growled.
“We all do, April. That’s the reason we are here, you and me.”
‘And here come the philosophical horse-apples—‘“That’s it! I don’t have to listen to this,” she roared.
Cortez shook his head sadly. “Perdoname. I've upset you. We didn't think you’d react this way. I hope we can talk again soon?”
April shook her head; one single sharp movement. “I don’t think so, no.”
He sighed and looked at her the same way a father would look at a child throwing a temper tantrum. “Please think about it? And señorita? Cuidado. Be careful.”
She did not respond. She merely turned from him and walked away briskly. She could feel him watching her until she was completely out of his line of sight.
It took quite a while for April’s emotions to cool. By then she had stomped her way through the central axis and across the ‘park’, which was little more than a small patch of grass located underneath a train bridge where the locals gathered to enjoy what little free time they managed to get. Then there were the usual junkies who slept on the park benches until the cops came and shooed them off. They always left quickly; no one was dumb enough to argue with someone in full armor with a blaster strapped to their shoulder.
Past the park was the Venice Academy of the Visual Arts, affectionately known as ‘VAVA’. The school was founded in 2119 by Mary Samm, an activist with the restorative movement that tried to halt the city's decline some years back. Most of their campaigns didn't produce any results, but the exploits of this mare had. The tiny old gal had managed to convince the local graffiti artists to put their talents to good use—with her guidance they had painted dozens of enormous, intricate murals across the area. VAVA was her crowning achievement. After years of campaigning (and badgering the local officials) she had finally scraped together enough money to build the academy. It stood as a lasting testament to Mary Samm's dream to make the world a brighter place. April admired her greatly. Though it had recently celebrated its 90th birthday, the school was in remarkably good condition. She trotted inside, trying to ignore all the signs in the front lobby reminding her about the exhibition. She finally found her way to the right room, and climbed the curving metal stairway to the loft she shared with Emma.
She stopped to look at her friend’s Holosculpture. April had always felt like using holograms to make art was taking the easy way out, not that she’d tell Emma that. Still, her friend never seemed to run out of inspiration. Emma’s project was already done. A whimsical creature grinned at her from the projector: a little pony with a fish’s tail and fins. Her imagination was so vivid. ‘Good thing we’re best friends, or I might be jealous,’ she thought ruefully. She turned to look at her own blank canvas and sighed.
‘It’s not going to paint itself.’ She grabbed her paintbrush and palette and sat down to work. She stared at the canvas, waiting for inspiration to strike. Something in the back of her mind gave her the nudge she’d been waiting for. Lifting her brush, she began to paint.
Emma walked up beside her and looked at her drawing. “Hiya!” the palomino yelled.
April jumped a little, unaware that so much time had passed. Putting down her art supplies, she stood up and smiled at her friend. “Emma? Hi! I didn't expect to see you here today.”
“Me neither. Are you busy?”
“Nah. Well I am, but I’m about to wrap up for today anyway. Why? What’s going on?”
“I have an important message for you.”
April cocked her head. “Yeah, from whom?”
“Believe it or not, girlfriend, but it’s from Cortez.”
“Excuse me?”
“He said to tell you that he wants to meet you—these are his exact words—‘where foals visualize their dreams’.”
“… What’s that supposed to mean?” April was starting to feel irritated again.
Emma shrugged. “I was hoping you’d know.”
April sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Did he talk to you about nightmares?” she asked softly.
The palomino frowned. “No, why?”
“I don’t know. It’s just… my dreams are really starting to bother me…”
Emma rolled her eyes. “There you go again with dreams. You’re obsessing, April. They’re just dreams! Sometimes a banana is just a banana.”
“And a dragon is just a dragon?”
“What do dragons have to do with it? Oh, don’t tell me, you had a dream about dragons.”
“A dragon. A talking dragon.”
Emma sighed. “I’m gonna regret this, but… what happened in your dream?”
“Well, there was a dragon...”
The palomino rolled her eyes. “I think we established that already. You had a dream about a dragon.”
“Not just any dragon. A talking dragon.”
“Yup. We've been through that. Talking dragon. Covered. What did it say?”
“She. It was a she. A female dragon.”
“What, you could tell from the skirt, high heels and lipstick?”
April frowned. “Don’t mock me, Emma. She said something to me… something about being the mother of the future.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “She probably said ‘time to get up and go to school, April’.”
“If you don’t want to take my dreams seriously, I’ll stop telling you about them.”
Emma grinned mischievously. “Is that a promise?” Emma sighed. “I’m hungry, let’s grab some dinner.”
April rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll meet you out front. I just have to finish cleaning up here.”
“Don’t take too long.” With a wave, the palomino disappeared down the stairs.
Gathering up her paintbrushes, April headed to the sink. She started up the water and watched it flow over the brushes. She stared into space, thinking about her day. There was a strange noise behind her. She turned and stared into the eyes of Emma’s holoprojection, which had somehow moved forward to meet her. It wasn't a projection anymore. No longer a collection of glowing white lines, this creature had a solid body, a thick hide and a pair of deep blue eyes, which were locked on her face. Mouth open, it swam through the air towards her. April Rain slid to the floor and covered her head, bracing for impact.