I buck the sort-of-silky blankets off myself and leap out of bed. I feel fresh as a daisy, and I look rather flowery come to think. I trot, beaming like a lunatic, into the living room of my apartment that doubled as a kitchen. I unfold my wings and flutter them as I frolic around the room in glee.
"No work! Oh yes!" I squeal like an excitable colt, breaking into a bounce. My girlfriend would be arriving soon with sugar cookies soon enough. Man, Leisure Day is AWESOME!!. I look out the window at the cloud city outside. The bustling city of Las Pegasus, the most famed city in the skies in all Equestria. I can already see Grapevine's dark, purple-red mane bobbing up and down on the sidewalk made from clouds. She makes a turn and enters the building. I notice a white-coated, red maned mare leaning against the side of the building. From the way some ponies stop and stare at her as if she's offending them, she isn't hanging around near an alley for no reason. One of the downsides -- and maybe upsides for some lonelier ponies -- of Neighvada is that there are a lot of mares willing (and some not so willing, but that's a touchy subject) to get money by even the dirtiest means. There's a knock on my door and I instantly zoom across the room and open it. There is Grapevine, my long time best friend and girlfriend. She's holding a plate of sugar cookies and I instantly feel ravenous.
"Come in, place 'em on the table." I say, licking my lips and smiling. Her cookies aren't great or anything but I'm damn hungry.
"Want me to make you some coffee?" she asks, trotting inside and placing the cookies down.
"Sure. Make yourself some too." I reply, helping myself to the cookies. I turn the radio on and kick back on the sofa. Ahh, sweet Leisure Day.
"Okay everypony, DJ Pon-3 here and that was Daft Luck with Get Punky. Next up is Rather Not Be by Pristine Vigilante. " comes the voice of a disc jockey pony from the speakers. As the angelic voice of the lead singer begins the song, I and Grapevine begin bobbing our heads and tapping our hoofs to the music, humming along. Eventually, the singer's voice fades out as does the song, and so I and Grapevine jump onto the sofa. I wrap my left wing around her and we begin eating the sugar cookies she brought, listening to DJ Pon-3 ramble on about this week's chart toppers. I feel so relaxed today. Today I can walk around without having to wear those scratchy trousers and shirt to cover up my tragically blank flank. I don't need to deal with seven sleazy stallions at once mistaking me for a mare and wolf-whistling at me, or those who do know that I'm a guy calling me homophobic names. In my little apartment with one of my best friends, I am free to be myself. Free to sit here and just say whatever comes to mind.
Grapevine notices that I'm looking rather deep in thought, so she taps me on the back with the tip of her hoof, asking
"Cloud, are you alright?" I look over at her, flattening my ears as I reply
"I've just been thinking about, you know, everything."
"What specifically about everything?" Grapevine asks. I begin tracing the pattern on the plate that the cookies came on as I give my answer.
"Everypony in Equestria has a purpose, at least after they get their cutie mark. Your purpose is to carry on the grape trade that your family has continued for years. My colleague's purpose is to make our magazines and newspapers look better through graphical design. When you're a foal, you're excused from having a purpose because you aren't ready to contribute to society. But when you're my age, when you're a fully grown stallion..." I stop, feeling it pointless to continue. Grapevine pats me on the back empathetically, then says
"The difference is that you aren't terrible at everything, you're decent at everything. You just haven't found something you're best at compared to everyone else. Or maybe your cutie mark is all white and it just doesn't seem to show up because of the rest of your coat." I shake my head and dejectedly debunk her theory, explaining
"My doctor says I don't have white fur, really. It's a light grey."
"Well then, " says Grapevine, "maybe your cutie mark is that same light grey."
"Seems unlikely." I say in a monotone, my pessimism plainly beginning to annoy her.
"Whatever the case, don't think you don't have a purpose. Think of Pearl Necklace, her special talent is supposedly something to do with jewellery -- although I think otherwise. How crappy must it be to have such a boring special talent? Anyone can sell or wear jewellery, just as anyone can drink or sell grape juice. That's why I don't exactly adore my own special talent. We can't all be Spitfire or Rainbow Dash."
"Rainbow Dash?" I ask, confused.
"She made a sonic rainboom at a young flyer's competition a while back in Cloudsdale, near Canterlot. It was all over the news. Her special talent was reported as being able to be the only pony to fly fast enough to create such a phenomena."
"Lucky her." I say. Grapevine rolls her eyes and smiles at me.
"You'll find your special talent, Cloud. Just don't think about it so much."
"I don't want a special talent. I just want it to not be such a big deal."
"It doesn't have to be a big deal." Grapevine suggests.
"But it is. I can't change the fact other ponies had such extreme personalities. The jeweller is greedy, the baker is kind, the news reporter has a nice voice."
"I doubt his special talent is 'having a nice voice'." Grapevine says, rolling her eyes.
"Trust me, I met him for an interview. There was literally a sound wave on his flank." I insist.
"That could be referencing broadcasting."
"And that's so much cooler than a 'nice voice' cutie mark."
"It's a good skill to have."
"Better than no skill." I answer glumly. Grapevine snuggles closer into me and I smile slightly.
"You have plenty of skills." she practically whispers. I have no idea as to why she continues to lower the volume of her voice but I forget about it when she steals a quick kiss.
"I have plenty of them alright. Too bad I'm not good enough to have a symbol of one of them on my butt." I insist pessimistically, determined to prove my dejectedness.
"Cutie marks are overrated anyway." Grapevine says, almost sleepily, resting her head on my crossed forelegs. I rest my own head on hers and we stay in this position for a while, silent. Finally, Grapevine says
"Don't let this take over your life, Cloud. There are plenty of creatures that don't have cutie marks that lead successful lives. If they can do it, so can you." She talks to me as if I'm a little foal, a late bloomer amongst a class of aptly tattooed flanks. I remember being bullied. I remember fighting the bullies. I remember the suspension that I and the bullies promptly got. I remember them taking me to a cherry forest after school on our first day back, beating me up and calling me names. I remember them leaving me there, too sore to move. I remember finally getting back home and being sent to the hospital as soon as my mother saw me.
Grapevine sits up abruptly.
"Cloud, are you crying?!" She gasps. I bury my face in a pillow, silently letting the waterworks flow. Grapevine extends her right wing and gently rubs my back, attempting to console me. I feel so weak to be crying now. I feel like some soppy mare crying over a trivial matter, even though I myself know that it's anything but trivial. "Cloud, it's okay. Cutie marks aren't important!"
"It's not just that!" I snap. I instantly regretted my sharpness. I soften my tone and say "It's the mane, too. And my body."
"What's wrong with your mane and body?" Grapevine says a little too innocently.
"I have a girly, pink mane and the build of a mare."
"But that's very fashionable." Grapevine says, again far too innocently.
"Yeah." I say sarcastically. "FOR A MARE! In case you haven't bucking noticed, Grapevine, I'm a bucking stallion!" Grapevine recoils at my excessive swearing. My ears fall flat against my head. "I'm sorry, I just remembered a bunch of things that really upset me." Grapevine hugs me sympathetically and I hug her back.
"I love you Cloud. Please don't do this to yourself." she says. I nod and say
"I love you too." I begin pulling away, but Grapevine pulls me back in for a kiss. It's brief, but it brings me out of my misery immediately. We resume our snuggling from before and continue listening to DJ Pon3. I begin getting sleepy and I rest my head on Grapevine's forelegs this time. As I drift into sleep, I smile slightly, grateful to be able to talk to somepony about this.
Leisure day is awesome.