For a moment, everything—the ponies, the rain, time itself—seemed to come to a complete stop. The reunited siblings stared into each other’s eyes, a sight neither had seen in such a long time. Flam gave a sheepish grin and, scratching his head, he began, “Well…it’s, uh…good to see you again. I’m…I’m sure you’ve been busy.”
It took Flim a few seconds to register those words, as well as the hoof extended towards him. He silently grasped it and returned the gesture, rigidly moving his leg. With a chuckle, Flam remarked, “Well now…I don’t ever recall you being so speechless before.”
Shaking his head, Flim instinctively straightened his collar, and replied, “Oh pardon, I just…um…how have you been, Flam?”
“You think we could sit down?”
“…Of course.”
The duo took a table in the corner of the café, separating themselves from the rest of the patrons. Flim noticed his sibling levitating a biscuit and a hot coffee near his chest—heavy cream and two sugar lumps, same way he liked it. “So everything’s been going well. Business is booming,” Flam began, shifting in his chair. “Just finished talking with one of my business partners, actually. Had to convince my assistants to let me get some coffee to pass the time. I didn't want them, you know, but my agent insisted. So anyway...what about you?”
Flim didn’t miss a beat, reciting, “Oh I’ve been getting along. Work is a killer, but I get by.” He started to vigorously rub his hooves along his leg, hiding it underneath the table.
“Ah, I understand,” Flam replied, only half-convincingly. After another long break, he added quietly, “By the way, I, uh, I did get your letter.”
“Did you?”
“Yesterday, actually. I wish I had time to respond back...really I do. If could have written you back, I would have.”
“Oh…I see.”
Flim started to bite into his cheek, his lips puckered into a short, bitter frown. He didn’t say anything else however, crossing his hooves and keeping his eyes trained on the floor. Flam looked skeptically at his brother, but he simply brushed it off for now, saying, “But I’m…I’m glad we managed to meet up anyway. Really, I am. I guess it must be fate or something, huh?”
“Right.”
“You know, I’ve always loved Gallopton. It’s a nice city, but maybe with a bit more rain for my taste.”
“Well you haven’t seen half of it,” Flim muttered crossly under his breath.
“Oh?”
“Oh nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
Flam gave a slight nod, taking a fake sip out of his already-empty coffee cup. He glanced at Flim out of the corner of his eye, seeing a devious half-smirk plastered on his face, which made his stomach churn. Flam had forgotten just how much he dreaded that smile. “So…what brings you here?” he said, trying to keep his mind off the somersaults his stomach was doing.
Flim opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. The smile faltered for a brief second, but soon reappeared with twice the audacity, replying, “With my job, I’ve had to travel around a lot. I soon realized that we were visiting Gallopton at the same time from the papers, so I wrote you that letter.”
“Wow…what a coincidence, huh?”
“Yes, a coincidence.”
Growing tired of the perpetual smirk on his brother’s face, Flam looked out the window, now seeing thick raindrops pattering against it. Clearing his throat, he began to stand up. “Well, the day is getting late,” he muttered, starting to turn around. “I suppose I must leave. My guards must be getting antsy.”
“Wait!” Flam stopped in his tracks, shutting his eyes. Behind him, Flim called out innocently, “I was wondering if you’d like to meet me for dinner. You know, like good old times.”
“Good old times?” the mustached stallion repeated with a spiritless chuckle. “Come on now, Flim. Don’t you think that’s a bit too...sentimental?”
“Oh please! I just want to spend some time with my brother. We haven’t seen each other in ages! We need to catch up. Maybe you can tell me about all the exploits you’ve had.”
Flim leaned back in his chair, slinging a hoof over the back in a mockingly relaxed pose. The knot in Flam’s stomach returned, and an inexplicable shiver ran down his back. Something felt off about Flim’s confident disposition—if only he could put a hoof on it.
But despite that, this was still his brother, and that was a detail Flam could not escape. He reluctantly answered, “Only if you tell me yours.”
There was a beat, followed by a soft, “…Absolutely.”
“Alright. Where to?”
“I was thinking Telstar Bistro downtown. You’ve heard of it?”
“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll see you in, uh, two hours?”
“Two hours it is. I’ll make the reservations.”
With slight a tip of his hat, Flam swiftly exited the café, where his guards were already waiting with a large umbrella. They trotted across the muddy street and into the warm hotel, where they would surely be treated with cozy beds and some fine cider. A few minutes later, the second brother galloped into the relentless rain, hoping that two hours would be enough time to scrounge together some bits.
xxx
Flam’s hooves sloshed across the puddle-ridden concrete, an umbrella protecting his freshly groomed mane. Rain was still pouring down on Gallopton, and it didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. The stallion cast a somber look up at the swirling gray storm clouds and shook his head. “Maybe it’s a sign,” he muttered to nopony in particular.
The thick raindrops were relentless. The town smelled of asphalt and smog. The air was frigid enough to tickle the hairs on his moustache. In fact, it seemed as though Flam had every reason not to be outside. He couldn’t help but wonder why he had gone through all the trouble of talking his guards into leaving, of sneaking out of the hotel underneath a trench coat, of braving through this storm to meet his brother.
Well…that’s just it, he thought, trying to convince himself. Flam dug himself into his coat, ignoring the chills running through his body.
Finally, the unicorn found himself standing in front of a large restaurant at the corner of the street. Bright lights surrounded the words Telstar Bistro on the building’s façade. Through the windows, Flam could see the interior was dim. Ponies sat at cloth covered tables, holding porcelain tea cups or glasses of sparkling cider in their hooves. Muffled jazz music could be heard above the pitter-patter of rain. Drawing in a breath, the unicorn crept inside.
Walking up to the host, Flam said, “Hello. I have a reservation.”
With a raised brow, the mare took a quick, confused glance at Flam and inquired, “Didn’t I just talk to you not too long ago?”
“Oh…ha. You were probably talking to my, um…my brother,” he said, slightly surprised that Flim had already arrived. “We’re actually twins, you know.”
“Really? Must make life pretty interesting.”
“You honestly have no idea.”
The host led Flam to a table right in the middle of the restaurant, where (still to his surprise) Flim was already sitting, his hooves placed flat on the table. When he spotted his brother approaching, Flim put on a grin and beckoned, “Flam! There you are! Not very nice to keep a pony waiting…”
“Sorry about that.”
Flim reached over and slapped his sibling on his shoulder as he sat down, which made Flam wince. “Oh I’m only joking, brother. It’s quite fine! I just arrived here a few minutes ago, so no harm done.”
“This is a nice place.”
“It’s marvelous, isn’t it? The food is delicious, and the entertainment is amazing!” Flim pointed towards a small stage, where a group of suit clad ponies where playing a lively jazz piece. The drums pounded out the swift beat, while saxophones and trumpets blasted the melody. A pianist’s hooves danced along the ivory keys, unable to keep from bouncing on his stool. A couple of ponies were dancing in front, swinging around each other with wide smiles on their face. “They only have music on Saturdays, Flam. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Actually, yeah. That’s really nice,” Flam replied, having to raise his voice just a tad bit over the pulsing drums.
The brothers ordered a sandwich or a salad or something else like that; they weren’t really paying attention. A saxophone unicorn stood up and started to play a blues tune, slowly swaying back and forth. Flam was captivated; his head bobbed to the tune, listening to the sax sing its sad story.
“So…how’s life been treating you, brother?” a voice called out across the table, snapping Flam back to reality.
“It’s been going pretty well, Flim. Business is good, but I think I’ve told you that earlier,” Flam answered, refraining from asking the same question.
“So tell me more about your invention! What’s it called, the, uh…?”
“The Cider Master.” Trumpets began to sneak in. Cymbals resonated as the sax continued to play. The stage light seemed dimmer.
“The Cider Master, right. I’d love to hear more about it. From what I’ve read, it’s helped a lot of ponies out.” Most of them anyway…
“Alright, I guess I could do that,” Flam replied, levitating his water glass to his lips and taking a swill. “So, as you probably know, the biggest problem for the cider industry was inefficiency. We were able to get away with those clunky machines and outdated factories for a while, but with the demand for cider at the highest it’s ever been, we needed to make something smaller, quicker, and easier to produce. So that’s where the Master came in.”
“Fascinating,” Flim dragged out, her eyes staring off into the distance. The blues piece had come to a smooth, quiet stop. The drummer started to tap an up-tempo beat on his cymbals, a toothy grin plastered on his face. Nodding his head wildly, the bassist joined in the fervor.
“So first, I made the Cider Master smaller and compact with a help of a few engineer friends of mine. And then, instead of using things like timber or coal for fuel, the Cider Master uses magic instead. That way, we reduce the amount of resources expended just to make the thing go, while boosting output thanks to the raw power of magic itself. Once I did that—.”
“You got it from the Super Cider Squeezy, right?”
“What?”
“I mean, from what you’re telling me it’s a lot like the Super Cider Squeezy.”
“Not…really,” Flam replied, his eyes set on his brother’s somewhat distasteful frown. The music was swift; the band had all jumped in. Another group of ponies started to dance in front of the stage. He continued, louder, “I suppose you could say they’re both powered by magic…but I had to adjust it for the smaller scale.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Anyway…so I worked on the thing for almost a year or so. I was incredibly busy in that time span. You have to get the dimensions just right, and then there’s the problem of making your cider actually taste good. I swear, I probably made hundreds of prototypes for the blasted thing before I actually found one that worked!”
“Seems like quite a bit of work. Too much for a single pony,” the suspicious sibling remarked. An alto saxophone slithered sinisterly amongst the ruckus.
“Well…looking back now, I guess so.” Giving an uneasy, chuckle, Flam continued, “So…once I found somepony to back me, the whole thing just took off. I was really surprised actually. I didn’t expect it to become so popular. I never thought the Cider Master would find its way to Trotweiser or anything like that!”
“You must be living quite the lavish lifestyle now, what with your patent and your money and all that.”
“Just a little bit. I wouldn’t say lavish…but I admit, I do like to indulge myself every now and then. Maybe just little purchases, maybe some new clothes—.”
“Maybe buy some gifts?”
“Uh, sure…every now and then.”
Flam glanced over at the stage, his hoof twirling around the top of his wine glass. A plate containing a sandwich or salad lay untouched before him, as it had been for the past few minutes. The music was loud—almost unbearably so. Every pop of a trumpet made his stomach twist; every low slide of a saxophone made his skin crawl.
“Hey, brother?” The mustached stallion turned towards the shady voice, putting on his best grin. “So how much money do you make?” Flim said nonchalantly, just as the entire band flared up into a crescendo of sound.
Taken aback by the sheer bluntness of the statement, Flam inquired with a raised brow, “Pardon me, but why would you like to know?”
“Oh I’m just curious is all.”
“Well…that’s slightly personal, Flim. No offense. I’m just not comfortable with discussing my finances. ”
“Come on, brother. There’s no harm in doing so. I’m just interested in the family business!” Flim countered, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.
“I think it’s more than just family business, Flim.”
“On the contrary, this isn’t anything but family business!”
Flam seemed to shrink in his seat. He certainly felt tiny, an insignificant little speck sitting before a ruthless giant, whose head had seemed to swell to a monstrous size. That half-smirk was, and has always been, the stuff of nightmares. When that smirk came in, all reason went out. He absolutely hated that smile, hated all those times it had reduced him to a whimpering colt at the mercy of the giant’s will. There was nopony in the entire world who could make him feel more like dirt—no, below dirt—than his beloved brother.
The music stopped.
With only the muted chatter in the background, Flam said in a low voice, “Flim. I just ask you to respect my decision and just stay out—.”
“All I want is to know!”
“You’re not listening to me! You…you…”
“I what?”
Flam bit his lip and lay back in his chair, his hooves crossed over his chest. “N-nevermind,” he mumbled, mentally kicking himself.
“Fine, I won’t press you any further. I just thought since we were trying to come together, you’d be able to trust me.” Like a dagger to the heart. “You always struck me as the trustworthy type, you know.” Another dagger—or more like a spear. “Ah well, no harm done,” Flim said, hiding his cruel joke behind a faux smile.
Unable to take any more of it, the mustached unicorn stood up, slipping on his trench coat. “Listen Flim, I’m not feeling too well. I-I think I should go…”
“Wait!” Letting out a long sad sigh, Flim admitted quietly, “Listen…I’m really sorry about this. This dinner was supposed to be fun, but it’s turning into just more drama. It’s my fault really. I…I should have known it wouldn’t have been this easy, especially after all these years. Please, Flam. Don’t go just yet. Let me make it up to you.”
Suddenly, his ears perked up, just as a low saxophone rumbled out a couple of notes. “Hey…hey, I know this song.” The drums soon joined in, playing a rhythm that caused Flim to tap his hooves on the ground. “Yes…I remember it! You remember it too, don’t you Flam?”
“…Well of course,” the sibling mumbled. “It’s our song…the one before we started selling cider.”
His green eyes twinkling, Flim flipped his hat onto his head, saying, “Well…don’t just stand there!”
“What?”
“Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve forgotten the dance!”
“Dance? I don’t know, Flim. I’m not feeling too well, and it’s been a while…”
Flam’s brother extended a hoof. “It’ll be in good fun, brother. Come on! Just one dance. Please? It'll be like the good ol' times!”
The mustached stallion trained his gaze on the yellow foreleg pointed towards him, intentionally diverting from the grin on his sibling’s face. But the drums were thunderous, and the brass instruments rang out like a rally cry. The swirling ponies in the middle were practically mesmerizing, their skirts and jackets flying every way imaginable. The rhythm rippling throughout the room caused hooves to thump under the tables, and Flam was definitely no exception.
Eventually, the allure of the swing was too much for him to ignore. Reluctantly slipping off his coat, he let out a huff and replied, “Okay. One dance.” He clasped his leg around his brother’s, and the duo launched themselves into the fray.
After a few minutes of uninspired shuffling, the aching feeling in Flam’s stomach started to disappear. He closed his eyes and began to let the melody weave its way into his limbs. Soon, he was gliding and hopping across the dance floor, sometimes partnering with ponies he didn’t even know. He let out a hearty laugh, a humongous grin painted on his face. For that moment, he no longer felt small. He was living large—lavish, as his brother would say. As the music poured out and one dance became two—then three, then four—Flam realized he actually felt good, something he didn’t think would happen when he first stepped into the Telstar Bistro.
In fact, he was feeling so good, he didn’t notice the fact that he had lost his brother in the crowd. Nor did he see the pair of yellow hooves sneaking something out of his coat pockets.