//------------------------------//
// Prologue 
// Story: Blue Days 
// by BlackM 
//------------------------------//

Prologue



There’s a pony who goes by the name of Blues.

Not hard to miss him. Blue coat, dark blue mane, blue notes cutie mark, he sticks out like a sore thumb in a crowd, and that’s hard to do in a village of multicolored citizens. He doesn’t speak much, usually doesn’t have much to say, and he’s usually by himself, preferring to be away from large crowds. He doesn’t have any favorite places, his only hobby is playing the sax, and he has a low profile job at a bar that barely garners more than a few customers.

Still not ringing any bells? That’s alright. Blues wouldn’t be disappointed if you told him that. It’s the usual reply from anyone outside, and inside, Ponyville. The first impression of him would be that there isn’t a whole lot to his character, with some curious incentive that there’s a little more to simple Blues. Don’t get your hopes up if you actually think that.

Between any two ponies in Ponyville, Blues isn’t a very well known stallion. He’s modest, quiet, and is never seen in any remotely popular place. The only ponies who knew about him were the mail pony, his own mother, and a few ponies in the workforce. Despite this mild socialization, Blues didn’t have many friends. Nopony approached him for a conversation, no pony cared to share with him some town gossip, and the only mail he ever got was bills, ads, and a letter from his mother once a month. He never actively sought for friends and he could never hold anypony’s interest for more than a minute. Not to mention, he’s not much of a talker. He’d nod and deafly agree with whatever you were saying while he thought about less relevant things. He never meant to ignore anypony. No, quite the opposite, actually. He’s usually grateful for anypony who would bother to be around him. It’s just that, usually ponies forget about the guy due to what little interest they have in him. That or he brings them down with sad or depressing stories of his past usually relevant to the subject. This one tidbit is probably the reason he isn’t invited to parties, more so than his invisibility. 

The other piece of his character is that he is a walking bad luck charm.

Mostly everything Blues does results in some humble chaos, with Blues receiving the blunt end of the misfortune. The average pony would rotate their face at this, but persistent mishaps were hard to debunk. A year ago, at a carnival, one of the low elevated coaster rides derailed and trashed a tavern Blues was working at that night. Four months ago, from the previous year’s winter wrap up, an avalanche had buried most of the land the stallions had cleared, postponing work for hours and burying a few workers; Blues wasn’t found until an hour later. And a few weeks ago, let’s just say a ditch on the outskirts of Ponyville had something to do with a concert, a tractor, and a very upset rhino.

Of course, there’s always the weird influx of karma. On the one week Blues decided to leave Ponyville to visit his mother in a distant town, the village was decimated by a swarm of parasprites. Needless to say, Blues decided to postpone his next visit for a while. 

Either way, it didn’t take long for ponies to start ignoring Blues because of this. It’s not like they could prove it was his fault for all of the chaotic happenings in Ponyville. In fact, he would make the argument that such things have only started happening when a certain unicorn moved in. But that didn’t stop ponies from wanting to be around Blues less and less. 

Yes, it’s sad being Blues. One pony should not have to deal with his bad luck. But despite his outcast nature, he doesn’t mind. He would tell you that he takes the world’s misfortunes so that no one else would have to, that he would be the universe’s chew toy if it meant no pony else had to suffer. You’d think of that as a noble cause if not a misperceived complex. 

But it’s just the way Blues is.

However, if anyone knew Blues well enough, they’d be surprised at what he‘s planning to do today. You see, there’s this beautiful mare who lives in the Carrousel Boutique. Purple, long combed mane, glistening white coat, beautiful sapphire eyes, diamonds cutie mark. Among the stallion community, she’s considerably the most prized unicorn mare in a town of pretty fillies. No one gathering of colts goes on without the mention of the pony named Rarity. All personal opinion, really, but no one could deny that she was one of the more beautiful of mares in town. Not that the rest weren’t as pretty, but Rarity fit the analogy as their diamond in the rough, in more ways than one. The other meaning to that was that no stallion had ever managed to get a date with this mare.

And here he was, bouquet of roses in hoof, hoping to change that.

“Uhh, is…Rarity here?” he timidly asked.

Blues had arrived at the shop a few minutes ago, but only now did he work up the courage to knock at her door. Blues wasn’t known as a bold stallion, but anyone would have rolled their eyes as he quivered at the front door, stalling to knock. The first knock was discreetly silent, barely impacting the ears of anyone inside. He’d have given up then if he had thought no one was home. The second time, he knocked a little louder, his heart nearly jumping out of place at the voice of a filly saying “Coming!” It was an unnerving wait in between the call and the door opening, but he did not expect a pink and purple maned filly answering the door instead of Rarity.

Sweetie Belle eyed the stallion up and down. He didn’t look like anyone Rarity might’ve known. The only friends of hers she knew were the colorful cast of mares every pony knew and a few clients. Maybe he was a customer, or maybe she was oblivious to the romantic gesture of a rose bouquet in the stallion’s arm.

“Yeah, she’s busy working on a dress upstairs,” she answered, “Do you need her for something?”

Blues began to stammer. His knees were shaking with anticipation as beads of sweat formed on his head. He tried to ask for Rarity, but his words halted halfway up his throat, resulting in an odd gulping sound. The rose bouquet rattled in his arm, making noise like a tree assaulted by wind. The pony shook his head and bit his lip, trying to muster up the courage to ask for the gem loving mare. 

“I…I-I wanted…to…” Blues stuttered.

‘Come on, man! You can do it! She’s here at the house! Don’t mess up!’

Sweetie Belle stared at the stallion oddly, wondering why he was shaking so hard. Her mind thought back to Rarity as she left her with the mannequin. She couldn’t dawdle for too long, Rarity only had two hooves and one horn. She was going to call for her soon…

“Yeah…?” Sweetie Belle encouraged.

“…I…”

Blues could feel himself about to cave in from pressure. He had never dealt with pressure like this, especially of this degree. He had no problem playing in front of crowds, even though usually only a handful of ponies cared to hear him play. And even then, only a fraction of them were giving him their full attention. Here, it was just one pony, a filly for that matter, and he couldn’t even muster a proper word of his intent to her.

“…nothing…”

The overpowering stress won him over and receded, letting in flow waves of disappointment as the stallion turned around, away from the Carrousel Boutique. The roses would have fallen from his grip had he not decided to tote them in his mouth. Sweetie Belle, thinking nothing much of the strange male’s actions, closed the door and returned to her sister upstairs. 

‘I blew it,’ the stallion thought as his head hung limply. 

There he was, so close to asking out the mare of every stallion’s dream and he blew it. He was too much of a coward to act on a modest notion he had today to change his life for the better, in hopes of achieving some happiness. He knew that, years later, some other stallion would work up the courage to ask her out and get that date, maybe even marry her. He would regret this for years to come, disappointed with himself in his sheer cowardice that he was too afraid to act against. A truly pathetic example of the stallion standard in the pony community. Today, he would be less of a stallion by male standards. If only he had grown a pair-

“I get it!” he said annoyed.

Erhem! Uhh…

Blues sighed, ignoring the looks of other ponies nearby after his outburst. He looked at the roses he bought, then remembered buying them with what was supposed to be his money for lunch. What a waste of gold bits. Now here he was without money, without food, and without a date. 

Blues was always a sad individual, but today, today just sucked even more.