“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll get your jacket to the drycleaner’s right away, if you want to clean up come upstairs, by Celeste, I’m so sorry...”
Somehow she found herself sitting in a plush chair, dressed in thick woolen slacks and draped in a fluffy towel. She remembered soap and nearly slipping on a tiled floor, lots of yellow light, but it was a blur — though not as much a blur as her heart was with all the palpitating it was doing.
The scent — it was overwhelming. Warm, earthy, black wood. Even his smell was elegant, and here, in his living quarters, it was a felt blanket that embraced her. There wasn’t much room here. That only served to amplify the effect.
It was starkly different from the crisp bright walkways of Sydneigh just a door away. Decor was sparse; the only things that distinguished it from the inside of a crate were a dirty carpet; a cramped-looking bed; a small desk, on which was a fluorescent lamp (on), a flask of water, a few books; a large trunk. She could see a stained sleeve quivering ashamedly from a crack in the lid. She looked up — yes, there was some kind of ventilation.
Ah — he caught her staring —
“You remember the heating unit on the ceiling downstairs?” said Percy, pointing to the strange metal box that sat inexplicably next to the desk. “The heat tends to leak upwards, so I ran a few tubes with water inside to, kinda, store the excess. Doesn’t warm the nights up much, but it’s better than nothing.” There was something stringy about how he talked.
“Oh. Okay.” Lilac nodded and huddled deeper into her cape. The towel was quite dry, and the feeling of the fabric was soothing. If this is his, then doesn’t that mean he wipes his body with this? She felt her cheeks burn briefly at the thought. So did her thighs, and she winced.
Her memory was clear, at least, about how much the shower had stung. Lilac had thin skin in the literal sense, and couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if she had not been in business attire, or if she had trimmed her fur — she suddenly felt self-conscious — it really did sting, and she hated pain...
She was cold. Shivering. Her chest hurt.
She looked at Percy, who seemed to be suffering from the trembles in his hind legs. His expression was — no, she didn’t want to look him in the face, but it wasn’t anything she had seen on him before.
Seeing him like this — this wasn’t him. She could feel the air thicken as she breathed it in.
She didn’t want him like this.
“Hey,” she said.
She felt him face her fully.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” She effected a smile, too toothy. She felt an eyelid twitch as her leg stung. “See?”
Percy’s voice was raspy. “I... I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.” She chanced a look at his eyes: they were wide, darting, and what she had taken for subduement in his voice morphed into panic. “I—”
“Percy. Stop.”
Her voice tasted like iron. She stood up, felt the chair bump into something as she pushed it back. Her suit was probably ruined, and under any other circumstances this would have filled her with indignation, but the weeks that had led up to this, and finally she had tried to break the silence — today was supposed to be the day they got out of this damn rut —
“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll just take my clothes and go.”
She felt so tired.
“Lilac — please, I’d do anything...”
“Anything for what?”
“To keep you here. So that you don’t walk away and never return.”
He was crying now. It wasn’t an elegant sight like it was in the TV dramas. His lips curled in an ugly way, and his nostrils flared as he sniffled.
“You’ve been asking so much if I’m okay... I’ll tell you what’s been going on.”
***
This was it.
“You may or may not remember an old pony who’s been around a few times,” said Percy softly. He was much calmer now, though his nose remained sniffly. Every so often he would reach for the box of tissues and dab, gently. “Ghastly sweater, drinks too much coffee in every sitting?”
Lilac tried to sound nondescript for what was essentially a confession to eavesdropping. “Mhm, I think so.”
“Yeah, he tends to be... loud. Anyways, his name is Fine Ground. He’s the supplier of all the coffee we — I — serve. Some from contacts, but most of it from his family’s own plantation. He is, I suppose, what you might call a ‘family friend’, what with our families having traded for two generations.” Percy smiled dryly. “Though my father hated him to his dying breath.”
“Why?” asked Lilac. “But you said—”
Percy held up a hoof. “I’ll explain. Actually, would you like some water? I would.”
He left. He returned. He took a sip.
She waited. His eyes had not left the edge of the table.
“I’m sorry,” said Percy. “I just don’t know how to start.”
“With the old pony. Fine Ground.”
“Ah. Yes.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” said Lilac, unintentionally croaking. She cleared her throat quickly. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m the one that should be apologizing. I mean... you’re my — I —”
“I?”
“I value you highly,” Percy said. “More than... anypony else. You’re a valuable friend. And — I think I have to be honest with you. It’s not fair to keep it from you. After you’ve been asking about it, even.
“Anyways... his kids were bullies, back when we were all young and expected to be playmates. They would string me up against a tree and leave me hanging, under pretense of us playing Cowponies and Buffaloes. One time they tossed me into a muddy pond when I cussed at them.”
Percy stared grimly.
“But, more often than not, they were not so creative, and we played Ogre. Which meant that I was the ogre, so I was only allowed to lumber while they pelted me with stones and twigs. If I ran at them, they’d hit me even harder, and I could never hit back, because I’d have ‘died’.
“I wasn’t allowed to go to school, you see; my father kept me in the cafe to learn the trade and to do simple chores. When he tired of that he sent me out to play, which was very often, given that he trusted nopony else with the cashier.” Percy shrugged.
Lilac nodded. What could she say, other than “I understand”? She did understand. Saying that she did was just trite.
“He wouldn’t believe me when I told him. Or showed him the cuts. Actually I think he didn’t want to do anything, even if he did believe, because Fine Ground was a big player in the Oatstralia distribution.” Percy paused. “Do you want some water? I can get you some water.”
Lilac shook her head dumbly. Right as soon as he got up, her throat itched.
He returned, lips glistening. The tumbler, half-drained, made a low, solid thump on the table.
“I was fed up with it, so I told Fine Ground himself. He just brushed it off, and when my father heard about it, he threw a fit. Broke my leg. Although it wasn’t that different from what he usually did.” Percy stretched back. “So there you have it. Fine Ground, asshole parent, returns to my damn cafe to whine about how his kids turned out exactly as he raised them.” His lips contorted into a bastardization of a smile, yet his tone was still light — impassionate. “And I am angry. Angry at him. Angry at myself, for not being able to tell him to never set hoof in here again.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” croaked Lilac. Yet, there was still a missing piece in the puzzle...
As if he read her mind, he continued: “My mother — well, nothing much to mention about her. She would hug me and cry with me after the more horrible nights. Sometimes she slipped chocolate into my lunchbox. But that... how was that compensation? She didn’t love me enough to ran up to him. So I thought. She did try to take me away, though she had nowhere to go. You know... I’ll never forget the look on her face.”
Percy got up and turned to look outside the window. “They called the cops on us, and she was sent to jail. I was crying, and I thought she would be too, but she actually looked relieved. She wasn’t laughing or anything, but it was the first time she didn’t look sad.”
Lilac bit her lip. Percy looked over, waiting for her to say something, but when she had made it clear that she was out of lines he sighed and sat back down.
“I did freak out a lot when I burned you. Not just because you were a customer, but, well...” He shuffled his hooves. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”
“I think so,” Lilac said.
Percy smiled thinly. “I’m sorry. I know it’s pathetic, and probably weird, but you’re the only friend I’ve had in a long while. You’re... important to me. Which was why I, uh, lost it. I don’t like burns.”
He lifted the leg of his pants gently. Lilac couldn’t help but gasp at what she saw: it revealed an ugly, welted patch of dry flesh. The fur had fallen out, leaving only rough, reddened skin.
“My dad decided that I wasn’t learning the trade fast enough. You see, the Serattis and the Grounds had this feud. Rivalry, maybe. We used to both be proud, coffee-growing families that would compete to supply Sydneigh with coffee. But two generations ago, somepony's cutie mark went awry."
The thin smile resurfaced. "That was my grandfather. He had no talent whatsoever in growing or running the plantation. He could brew amazingly, but that wasn't good enough. Couldn't beat the Grounds if you had to buy produce from them. Unfortunately, he was the only son, and so within five years, the Seratti farms failed.
"My mother told me about this, that my dad had it rough. He was the son of a failure, and my grandfather took a lot of his frustration out on him. He was the one who founded Cafe Seratti — the dying connections to a once-proud legacy — my father didn't want anything to do with it, but he was locked in by both his family and his cutie mark.
"But it's not like we could break ties with the Grounds. They had basically monopoly over the supply, and to convince them to keep selling to us, they had to grovel. My father was so angry, all the time... he probably snapped because of it all."
He pointed to himself. "And so you have me. The victim of perpetuated circumstance — sounds so dramatic when really, all it is is that I'm descended from scum." He sneered. There was a tremble in his voice. "This cafe, and coffee brewing, is all that our family had. My father was obsessed with it, and pushed it on me so that I could keep it alive. Whenever I messed up — and it was usually with the froth cap — he thought it motivational to scald me with the can.” He rolled the fabric back down. “I learned quickly, all right. Even won an award for it when I was thirteen.”
Percy sighed. “Anyhow, long story short: I’ve been on edge lately. It’s no excuse, I know. I just...” He hung his head.
“I guess I’m begging you to not be mad. Because you’re my friend. My only friend in a long, long while. Everything's just falling apart, and I'm so afraid that I'm going to crack like they did, and...”
He made another attempt at a smile. It was the most miserable thing Lilac had ever seen.
“I’m not really all right. Thanks for asking.”
The air was so heavy. It was snaking around her throat. Whatever words she had — no, she didn’t have anything to say.
This was every college presentation, every reading in front of the class, every music recital she had to do for her family. Even if it was just one pair of eyes, they were Percy’s, and that weighed more than all of the others combined.
The room was so, so small. How could Percy stand to live in it? No air, no light — just the spilling orange from the setting sun outside, as Thursday retired to put on its evening dress.
Her hooves were clenching hard on the towel. It was her only comfort, soon becoming her only sensation. She used to hug it to sleep, until her mother had taken it away, when she had grown too old for it. The look in her eyes — no, she couldn’t remember any of that. Not even her mother’s face, even.
But this was different. Unlike all those other times, she had the freedom to do one thing — and that was run.
Lilac got up, almost choking as she said: “Sorry. I need some time to think.” And before she could get a response, she left.
***
You idiot. You yammering stupid idiot.
Lilac couldn’t sleep. She was drained, but her body refused to give in. Her mind hammered away at her, with memories she had thought she had lost, memories she had wanted to lose, and nothing but the sad truth. It was like a burst dam, and now everything was destroyed.
You worthless creature.
When she turned thirteen, the year she had to leave her friends for the inner-city high school, the wish she had made on her birthday cake was to be kind — to be the best that she could be.
When she turned fourteen, it was to be able to make friends with these trendy mares, with their drama discussions and their makeup, who always looked at her in this different way, even when she was being one of them. When she had bought the same makeup, watched the same idiotic shows, laughed at the same dumb jokes Pepper Presto and Sammy Seville did.
When she turned fifteen, she had wished for Pepper Presto to get pregnant with the senior stallion she flaunted all the time. It was only fair. It was only biology. Why couldn’t that happen? So that she would be shamed — ground into the dirt like the filth she was.
Lilac had ran out of eucalyptus. There were pharmacies open at this time, but they were all so far away.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had celebrated her birthday with a cake, or with anyone else for that matter. A postcard in the mail without fail from her mother — that was the closest it got.
It was such a worthless thing to think about. Fitting for a worthless mare. Just a birthday — a stupid tradition that Lilac had thought she had gotten over. Just one day of a year, no more special than the rest, just because it was her first. So there was no point in feeling down for not being able to enjoy it, right? Lilac was a grown mare. She was supposed to move past that. See it for what it really was — just commercialization, a scheme to sell frosting and cream...
But she hadn’t.
And that was the truth: her whole life was her birthday, day after day of fooling herself into thinking she was over things that she wasn’t. Just following the routine. Pin the tail on the donkey; finish your homework. Sing the birthday song; choose the Bachelor’s of least resistance. Cut the cake and divide it amongst whoever had bothered to respond to the invitations; smile and wave to the co-workers, and still keep talking about the most useless things—
Idle conversation. After all these years, Lilac hadn’t managed to escape from even that.
Style over substance. This was the summary of her life: the books she read, her alicorn-damned apartment, every single “choice” she had made to re-make herself into the pony she wished she could be. It just wasn’t her, but now that she had made the decisions it was all she had left — some vapid character sheet. She wasn’t interested in anything she did — maybe not even her bloody coffee habit. She liked coffee, but if that was all she liked what good was that?
What was there really? Who was she, even?
And that was the truth: she wasn’t anypony special. If she wasn’t even anything, she couldn’t expect to love, let alone have a relationship with somepony — even somepony as broken and perfect as Percy.
Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him. It was fate, surely, the only small sparkle in her life, that after all these years she had found somepony who could relate to her, with whom she could share pain and just be herself...
But that was just another lie. Percy just happened to be there. And that had been good enough to fill the void. Maybe her feelings for him were real and substantiated, but the risk of her being wrong was much too much. Not when the both of them were like this.
Yet beneath even that layer, she knew that she needed him, and he needed her. He had been honest to her. That had never happened. From the sound of it, she was the only pony he had told this to... and she had just walked out on him.
Lilac had tried so hard to be independent, to not need anypony. She had thought she had succeeded. But maybe — maybe opening up wasn’t such a bad idea. Not if that pony was a friend like Percy.
In that moment, Lilac saw, for the first time, a choice, and took it.
***
After a series of pathetic tapping on the door, Lilac called out his name, hissing it like a spectral cat until she could hear him shuffling down the stairs to open the door. While the rest of the coffee strip was open for business, Cafe Seratti had always closed at six o’clock. It was embarrassing, knocking on the door of a closed shop while the night-time wanderers shuffled along, but also exhilarating. It was purposeful.
“Lilac?”
Percy looked like he hadn’t slept either. His eyes were swollen, and there was a dry quality in his voice.
Lilac took a deep breath. She wished she had put on at least some foundation before running over, but that was how things were. “Can I come in?”
Percy nodded and stepped aside. The smell of soup wafted around her nostrils.
“Something smells good,” said Lilac. “You both brew and cook?”
“It’s takeaway from down the road,” said Percy.
“Oh.”
“Would you like some? There’s also the pastries from the day, though I understand if you’d rather not.”
“I’ve always wanted to try those, actually.” Lilac faked a smile and moved to the counter; she hadn’t noticed when he had shifted to his usual side of the counter, too.
“The pecan slice is my favourite,” said Percy.
“I’ll take that, then,” replied Lilac.
The platter landed gently in front of her. The glaze on the pecan slice had set in after a full day of display, giving it a clammy look — yet it also promised delicious sugar, and Lilac was more than happy to take a delicate bite out of it.
Buttery pastry. Cinnamon and pecan filling. She remembered that she hadn’t eaten much, either. The next bite was swift, and considerably less gracious.
“Want some coffee?”
“No, just water. Percy, I need to tell you something. Do you mind coming over here?”
Percy turned to her, expression blank, and took a seat beside her. The two feet of lacquered wood separating them was no more. They both faced forward — Lilac wanted it that way. Not having to look at him made things a little easier.
Lilac closed her eyes. He had come clean. If they were to stand on equal ground once more, she had to tell him everything.
***
She had missed a few points, and couldn’t help but think over them when instead she had to figure out what was next. She simply hadn’t thought that far.
“Uh. Thanks for the pecan slice, by the way,” she added.
“It’s all right,” said Percy. He exhaled, and his shoulders fell a little — how long had they been tensed? Lilac’s eyes were peeled now. It was like those old detective shows, where the lead was always just that more observant than the rest, hunting for clues in impossible places. Even the most insignificant wobble of his eyebrows could speak volumes, even if the voluminousness was relative to the blank draws of now.
And yet nothing was showing. Either Percy was truly nonchalant, or he was playing the silent game, one honed from years and years of neglect.
Oh. Right.
And it stung her pride, but she realized that she was going to have to do the heavy lifting this time. It had always been Percy who initiated, who always had some little firestarter to get their conversations going. She had no practice and possibly, even, no skills, but if she could just dig a bit deeper...
“I,” stammered Lilac.
Percy tilted his head towards her.
“I... I’ve always been afraid. I managed to see it last night. After you told me your problems, it helped me figure out that I was hiding mine. It explains the anxiety, the headaches...” Lilac clenched her hooves together on the counter. “I’ve always been insecure. I did things that would hide it away, hide myself away, so that nopony could see and make fun of me. And bit by bit, it took over my life. Who I am. Just like how your hurts took over you.
“But when I met you, even before yesterday, you were different. I actually liked being with you! I — I like you.”
Percy’s ears flickered.
“You mean... You mean like-like?” he asked.
Lilac nodded and bit her lip.
“But that’s not important. That’s not the important bit.”
“But I want to say that I also—”
“No! We can’t!” Lilac looked up desperately. Hurdle number one was coming up, and she had to make a perfect leap. “Because... we’re not ready.”
Percy frowned. It suddenly occurred to her that he hadn’t done that often — not even when discussing his hatred for his father.
“I need you,” said Percy plainly.
“I know,” said Lilac, her heart soaring at a million miles an hour. “But what we really need is help.”
“You mean... help-help?”
“I mean counselling help. But gosh — just let me finish. I was saying — you!”
“You mean, me-me?” said Percy, grinning.
“Cut it out,” said Lilac, though she could not control her laugh. It would have been a gloriously short turn to end on, but she had to get it out into the air. “No. You. Us... it was real. It was the first real thing I’ve had in a long while. You were somepony I was really interested in. Not fashion, or public opinions, or... or even coffee. At least... I believe. I want to believe.”
She stared into his eyes. They weren’t particularly translucent in the dreamy way some were. She wasn’t sure if she’d use the word “pools” to describe them. Probably not even “exotic”.
That is the point, though, isn’t it? she thought to herself: I don’t need these words any more. It is what it is, and I can call them like that.
She faltered briefly, but braved her way back up his chin to the two: beautiful, simply because they were his.
She swallowed and continued. “I may have fallen for you because of my issues. Because I was lonely. But I gave it a lot of thought, and I’m certain that at the very least I want you as my friend. Too. Like you do... right?”
Percy nodded encouragingly.
“And I know I can make this decision because I gave it a lot of thought. Me wanting to be friends with you isn’t just because of my emotions, or because that’s how the flow goes.” Lilac felt her throat go sore, and tears welled up in her eyes. “It’s because... we talked. Because we did something real. And I can’t imagine not having you in my life — friend, or more.”
She took a jagged breath and hid her head. “But I can’t even be one hundred percent sure about that. I’m not ready to... to live the way I want to. Which is why I’m going to make an appointment with a psychologist tomorrow morning. And — and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way — but are you interested in coming with me?” Lilac wiped away the trickle from her eyes and tried to flash a smile, raising her head like a gasping swimmer. “We could probably get discount rates.”
Percy’s gaze flickered, in that small way whenever he was thinking hard about something. It wasn’t more than three seconds before he said: “Yes, please.”
“Really? That was pretty fast.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for ages.” Percy shook his head and passed a tissue to Lilac from the far end of the table, which she graciously accepted. “But I could never find the time... or perhaps it was something else. And look how that turned out. Going with you sounds like a great idea.”
Lilac sniffled. “Yeah. I read about it in a magazine. It’s easier to follow through things if you have a friend to keep you accountable. But, you know...”
“The whole no friends thing,” finished Percy.
“Yeah,” replied Lilac.
“You know, I was going to tell you that I like you too,” added Percy.
She wanted to reach out and grab his hooves.
“Maybe after we’re both sorted out, we could see how it goes,” said Lilac.
Percy laughed and sighed. “Agreed.”
And now they were past the home stretch. That was it. Finito, fertig, terminado — the feeling of elation washed over Lilac, and she suddenly felt like a thousand pounds.
Percy must have noticed — he raised a hoof and patted Lilac gently on the head. A surge of warmth and shivers rippled from her heart to her hooves.
“You wanna stay the night? Not like — you know — I’ll sleep downstairs, I mean.”
“No, no. I’ll be fine. My place isn’t too far.”
No, not the end, the small voice whispered. This is the beginning.
And not in the sappy way, either, hissed another voice. You're still broken. He's still broken. There are still loose ends—
But those don't matter. And this, Lilac realized, was herself. We made a step forward. And... that's good enough for tonight.
“Then I’ll make you something for the road. Just enough to keep you awake for the trip.” said Percy, getting up and winking at her. “I think a flat white with sugar syrup sounds about right.”
“I’d love that,,” said Lilac, slumping on the counter with her legs for pillows. “I do have one last confession to make.”
There was the rumble of the coffee machine coming to life, and the whizz of bean-grinding blades. “Go right ahead.”
“I don’t really like the milk foam in coffee.”
Lilac looked up at him and bit her lip. Percy returned a cheeky grin of his own, and waved his scalded leg.
“What a coincidence. Neither do I.”