//------------------------------// // Chapter: 3 // Story: Appearances // by Chapter 13 //------------------------------// I wanted to come home to an empty house. I wanted to get home, look around, and see nothing amiss. I wanted to be able to look back at these few days years from now and laugh, chalking up it up to a bad reaction to… something! I wanted… I wanted things to go back to how they were. Simple. No horse in my house. No constant mental turmoil that I may be crazy. No crying. No feeling weak. Just… Just normal. I didn't come home to an empty house. Several hours of uneventful work had left me in a tired, zombie-like state, ready to pass out on the nearest soft object. When I opened the door, I saw her, sleeping peacefully on my couch. My first thought was not why she was still there, but why she still wasn't sleeping in the room I had given her. Had it been because of my overreaction earlier that -- well, at this point it would be the previous day? I didn't focus on the question, just putting it off into the back of my mind with the others. I threw off my jacket, pulled off my boots, then walked over to the horse sleeping peacefully. Her chest rose and fell in a gentle, harmonic motion. It was peaceful to watch (if not a little creepy) and I felt a ghost of a smile befall my lips. It didn't last -- a yawn reminding me of my growing fatigue. I walked over to the spare room, pulled off the comforter, then walked back and gently draped it over the horse. She stirred but didn't wake. I watched for a little bit longer, then walked over to my own room and flopped down on my bed. Thought my body called for sleep, it didn't come. Instead, my brain drove it off. Questions all revolving around my unwanted guest filled my mind: how long would she be here, could I send her back, was she even here? I though on each of them, but still breached no answer. In all honesty, I was farther from the answers now. Questions. The only thing constant about these past few days. I pressed my fingers into my temples and tried to relax. I needed sleep. Answers wouldn't present themselves to a tired mind. It took a while, but I felt my mind calm. Sleep slowly gripped my mind, dragging me into the backend ether of irrational thought. The air around me smelt of dried sand. My eyes burned slightly from the blaring sun despite the darkened sunglasses. I could hear the crunch of sand beneath my boots with each step, accompanied by the ambient sounds of the afghan desert. Zack was at my left. I turned to my fellow marine. He wore the same outfit as me: a standard desert camo body armor with an m16 held at the ready. “So, what you going to do on leave?” he asked me, then used his had to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked around. I shrugged, not putting much thought into his question. “The usual, I guess: say hi to my parents, sleep in, and maybe eat some real food.” He chuckled. A humble, yet professional chuckle. “You really need to spice it up. You do the same thing, over and over again. Where’s the fun in that?” Again, I shrug. “The point isn't fun, Zack. The point is relaxation so I can have a clear mind.” He turns to face me, but still stays at pace. “But don't you want to have fun?” “This is fun?” I didn't mean to word it as a question, but I did and didn't make an effort to correct myself. I hope to myself he didn't notice. “That a question?” Shit… “Look, Alex, I know you’re all marine and no play, but it's not good for you. This takes a lot out of you, y’know? If you don't take a break, get your mind off this, you’re gonna put a bullet through your brain.” A guilt washed over me at his words. “If I goof off… if I don't take everything seriously… someone dies.” He signed, then turned away. “But if you don't, you die on the inside. You lose your humanity. You lose the part of you that we want to protect. I'm not saying go crazy and go to a strip clubs or something like that. Just… take a walk on a beach. Go on a date. Do something normal that’ll remind you of what we’re trying to protect.” I look down. “Nothing is that simple anymore. You know that, Zack. I know you do.” “Which is why I'm telling you this,” he replied almost instantly. “Take the effort to make it happen. That’s an order, Marine.” I chuckle, a small smile gracing my lips. “I still outrank you, man.” He rolled his eyes. Silence graces us as we continue our patrol. Peace, though fleeting, exists for those precious few moments. All hell broke loose after a single wrong step… My eyes slowly crack open. The tail end of the nightmare still shadows in the corner of my mind, but it fleets as the seconds pass by. All that truly remains is the sense of fear, sadness, and slight anger. I'm accustom to the emotions, having felt them almost every morning. They don't affect me like they used too, time making them gray, but they’re still there. I shake my head, then push off my blanket and roll out of bed. A few minutes later, I’m dressed and heading into my living room, slogging forward like a zombie. I look to my couch, see the snoring lump, and only let out a soft sigh. I walk into my kitchen and prepare myself a simple breakfast: toast and eggs. I pull out one of the boxes of sugar-filled pastries and throw it onto the couch, waking its single occupant. “Who, what?!” I hear the horse scream, then gasp. “Oooooh!” I crack as smile as I carry my plate of fresh food to my small table. I can hear the faint crunching and following moans as my guest digs into her breakfast. “Sleep well?” I ask, then take a mouthful of egg. The crunching stops. “Actually, yeah. This couch is reaaaaaaally comfy.” She paused. “Hey, where’d I get the blanket?” “I threw it on you when I got home,” I mutter, then take another bite. “Are you ever gonna use the room I gave you?” I hear her get up from the couch, followed shortly by the sound of hooves approaching me. “To be honest, I'm more used to sleeping on a couch than a bed.” I look up and see the horse take a seat in the chair opposite me, pop-tart box held at her side. “Okay, I guess.” I shrug. “Your choice.” A silence reigns as we both eat our food. “Are we friends?” I look up, confused by the question. “Huh?” The horse looked down, trailing her hoof in circles on the table. “I mean… yeah, are we friends?” I think for a second, then shrug. “I guess? I don't know what else to call us.” I could actually think of several words for our predicament, but none of them are actually worth saying. In my opinion, at least. “Oh, okay…” Her expression falls. I notice. “Vinyl… You okay? Is it still about, y’know, not knowing how to get home?” She sighs. “Kinda. It's more, like… I've been thinking and… and I don't know how many ponies will miss me. Do they even know I’m gone? Is anypony even looking for me?” I bite my lip. These aren't questions I know the answer too. “I’d think so. Don't you have close friends and family?” “Yeah, I have friends and family, but…” But? “But not close. My parents never… they aren't really into my work, and my friends, well… I don't really have any close friends...” Really? I think to myself. For some reason, I find this strange. I mean, her personality isn't my cup of tea, but I still would consider her a likable person, er… pony. I risk a question. “If you don't mind me asking… why don't you have any close friends?” “Work, mainly,” she says plainly. “Being a DJ is a pain in the ass. Fun as all hell, but it takes a lot out of you. You can't take a break or tune anything down or you’ll be replaced by somepony else. It's a cutthroat industry. As a result, well… usually, I'm by myself, working on another set or getting ready for another gig.” I gain a founder respect for the house DJ at my club. I go to speak, but can't quite find the words. Lucky for me, Vinyl speaks first. “It’s okay, though,” she continued. “It is what it is, and I like what it is. I like my job.” “But you are lonely, right?” She deflates. I mentally kick myself. “Y-yeah…” I watch as the horse in front of me sniffs, then wipes her nose with the back of her hoof. Her posture slumps, and I can see the sadness in her eyes. Sadness and… Oh, oh no. Vinyl starts to cry. She presses her hooves into her eyes, hiccuping as salty droplets flow freely. I bite my lip, looking on almost matching sadness. Part of me wants to react, to comfort her, but I can't quite figure out how. Do I say comforting words? Do just let her cry it out? Do I… do I hug her? She continues to weep; a thick feeling of guilt growing in the bottom of my gut. Not being able to take any more, I mentally crush my feelings of insecurity and decide to just act. I scotch my chair over to the crying horse, wincing as it scratches the floor. Once I'm right next to her, I hesitantly reach my hand up and begin to run it down Vinyl’s back. Her fur is soft, softer than anything else I’d ever touched. Vinyl shivers at my first contact, but doesn't seem to mind afterward. I awkwardly run my hand up and down the crying horse’s back. Not knowing if I was doing it right, I tried to gauge her reaction. She didn't push me away, which was good, so I guess I’m not hurting the—gleck! My eyes go wide as Vinyl turns and wraps her hooves around my stomach, now crying into my chest. Her grip is strong, stronger than I’d imagined, but I really did mind. Awkwardly, like the entire situation, I slowly wrap my hands around the horse and pull her close. “Uh… There there?” I nervously say, patting her head. “It’s going to be okay…” Vinyl’s cry dies down. She lets out a loud sniffle but doesn't remove her head from my chest. “I’m a loser, aren't I?” I was taken aback by those words and look down even more concerned at the pony in my arms. I was about to ask her why she had just said that, but decide against it, instead trying to be comforting. “No, you aren't, Vinyl. You’re not a loser.” She sniffs again, her head still pressed tightly into my chest. I feel her tears begin to bleed through my shirt. “Yes I am,” she says between sobs, “Look at me! I'm a crying wreck and… a-and I’m a friendless loser! Even my parents think I am!” I hold the horse tighter. “No, you're not, and I'm hard pressed to think your parents truly believe that.” Vinyl laughs. Not a happy one, but an empty, half sarcastic one. “No, they really think I am.” She leans back and pushes me away. I let her leave my arms. She looks down, avoiding my gaze. “I… I dropped out of high school and… and they called me an idiot. I just… I couldn't take it. I wanted to just… I wanted to be a DJ. I wanted to just go out and party, not having to care about grades and social crap! They said it was stupid, that I was throwing my life away.” She sniffs, wiping her nose on the back of her hoof. I reach over and hand her a napkin from the table. She smiles, then blows her nose. “They kicked me out, calling me a loser and an idiot. I… I wandered for a bit and… and I did manage to make a name for myself.” I smile slightly. “That’s good, isn't it? You proved them wrong. You managed to make a career and work your way to—” “To a shitbox,” Vinyl interrupts, dejected. “I didn't lie before when I said I didn't have any friends because of works, but I also didn't tell you the entire truth…” She goes silent. I wait for her to be ready to continue on her own. “I not a famous DJ. I’m… I’m not terrible, but I’m not famous. I just… I have to take every gig I can just to make ends meet. I mean, I live in a shitty apartment in the middle of Manehattan, I’m pretty much broke, and due to my intense job schedule I barely have enough time to breathe!” She smacks her hoof into the table. I catch my glass before it tips over. “I’m a fuckin’ broke loser! This isn’t what I thought it’d be like! I thought… I thought I would be able to party every night, get paid bank each gig and… and…” Her anger subsides; the sadness returning. “And t-that I would be… famous. That I… I…” I reach over and pull Vinyl back into a hug. She doesn’t object, pulling herself deeper into the embrace. All the while, I try to process the mare’s words. I run my hand through her main. “It’s okay, Vinyl… It’s okay,” I softly cooed, trying to sound comforting. “M-my parents were right! I should have… I should have listened to—” I cut the mare off by pushing her away so we see eye to eye. She tries to turn away, but I use my hands to keep her eye contact. “Stop it, Vinyl,” I say sternly. “Just… just stop.” “B-but!” “Please?” “...” I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Look, Vinyl, I know what it’s like to have a dream turn out not how you planned. I… I went into the army thinking that I would be some superhero that would save the day, but I was wrong. I was a fool. An ignorant, stupid fool. I’m not gonna lie and say you aren’t an idiot too because you are. Dropping out was stupid. Your parent’s were right.” I take a deep breath. “But that doesn’t make you a loser. You followed a dream and it crashed in on itself. Shit happens. All that matters is that you tried. And, even more importantly, that you didn’t give up. Most people would have caved, but you didn’t. It’s probably too late to back out, but that doesn’t mean that you’re stuck. Keep going, keep trying. Don’t give up. You can only be a loser when you give up.” I look down at Vinyl and notice her tears have stopped falling. I smile, slightly, but inside I still feel horrible. A new feeling of guilt washes over me as I think about my own words. Did I give up? I ask myself, then shake my head. That was a question for later, now is for Vinyl. “You are not a loser, Vinyl, because you never gave up. Your dream crashed before your eyes, and you still kept going. That takes guts, determination, and a decent amount of stubbornness to do. Things may suck now, but it’ll get better. If it doesn't, just try again. Life won't change if you don't make it. I can't say for certain what you should do, but I do know for a fact what you shouldn't do, and that's give up.” Vinyl lifts her head. She looks to me and smiles slightly. It's a forced smile, I can tell, but I can still see some genuine hope hind it. “I… I guess you’re right,” she says weakly. “It's just that… it gets so hard, sometimes. Like, I work my ass off almost every day and barely have anything to show for it.” “Do you like your job?” “Well… I like performing, yeah — that’ll never get old.” She sighs. “It's just too much.” I nod. “Yeah, life can get pretty tough sometimes. Just take it as it comes, one day at a time, and never let your dream die.” Like you did? My eye twitches at my internal voice. Vinyl doesn't seem to notice. “Yeah… you’re right,” she began, wiping her eyes with her hoof. “I just… I guess I just needed to hear it from someone.” She looks up to me with an unforced smile. “Thanks.” “Anytime,” I reply, with a smile. “Sometimes we all just need to be reminded about what we’re fighting for.” Like you did? Vinyl chuckles. Her eyes are still red and puffy, tear stains running parallel down her face, but it no longer radiates the sadness it held before. She reaches up and feels her tear stains. “Y’know, I think I’m going to go and clean up,” she began, getting up from her chair. “Thanks again, Alex.” She walked off, I smiled. She closed the door, I still smiled. I heard the shower turn on, my smile fell. I let out a huge sigh, then looked down at my hands. I was happy that I had managed to, somehow, help Vinyl, but it had also caused some horrible thoughts to surface. I gave up… I forgot what I was fighting for… I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. I never gave up. A marine never gives up!” You did. I growl. Shut up! Oh? Are you talking to me? Yourself? Wow, you really are crazy. I press my hands into the sides of my head. Shut up, shut up, shut up! Avoiding your issues, eh? Deciding to push it off? That’s just the attitude that got Zack kill— “Shut up!” I smash my hand into a nearby wall, punching straight through the drywall and pounding a wooden support beyond. Pain erupts from the appendage as I make contact with something hard beyond, most likely brick or concrete supports. I pull it out of the hole, my knuckles bleeding. “Shit…” I mutter to myself, then squeeze the wounded area with my free hand. I hiss, it hurting like all hell, but not enough to be broken. Good. I stand up, my anger fading, the voice silent, and head over to one of the drawers in the kitchen. I open it and fish out tweezers, some medical tape, and antiseptic wipes. I use the tweezers to pull out the splinters, then wipe down the area. I hiss, a deep cut from what I believe to be caused by a nail hurting the most. After that, I wrap down the affected area and with the tape, then return everything to its proper place. After this, I begin to clean. I clean up breakfast. I clean up the couch. I clean anything that I can to keep my mind and body busy. I hear the shower running in the background, accompanied by what I believe to by Vinyl singing. I ignore it. I ignore everything. The shower turns off. Vinyl soon trots out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head. At the moment, I had finished my cleaning spree and was sitting next to my record player, a simple symphony singing out of its speaker. Vinyl walks up to me. “Not my cup of tea, but it ain’t bad,” she remarks, then uses the towel to finish drying her mane. “You got anything else, y’know, better?” My lip twitches. “I’m listening to this. Just… just use the MP3 player if you don’t like it.” Vinyl raises an eyebrow. “Hey, you okay?” “I’m fine,” I mutter. “Oh… okay. In that case, I guess I’ll just… watch TV.” I hear her walk away, and into my room. I remain next to the player, trying to focus on the music. Trying to drown out the screams. I recover about an hour later. My mind had settled, the voices subsiding. It wasn’t the worst episode I’d had, but it still wasn’t pleasant. For years, they had been happening. I can’t remember when I had my first, nor did I know what caused them. There was just too many possibilities. This was the crazy I was used too. Not a talking horse, but the screams of the dead or flashbacks. I got up, turned off the record player, and carefully put the vinyl back where it belonged. After that, I headed over to my room. Vinyl lay on my bed, watching… something. I didn’t know what, exactly, but I honestly didn’t care. She looked up and gave me a soft smile. “‘Sup?” she asked, then looks at my bandaged hand. “Yo’, you okay?” I gave her a weak smile of my own, then walked over and sat down. Vinyl made room. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… hurt it.” “Alright, then,” Vinyl began, seeming to get the hint I didn’t want to share. “Actually, I got a question.” Or not. “What do you usually do?” Huh… don’t expect that. “Like, in my free time?” Vinyl nods. “Well… usually, I run, or walk, or… well, not much exciting, I guess.” “That’s boring,” she commented. “Don’t you have any hobbies or… anything?” “Besides running? Well… no, not really.” I sigh. “I never had time when I was in the service.” “Well, what about before?” She sat up more straight. “I used to play baseball.” She tilts her head. “It’s a sport,” I explain. “Oh, well, where I’m from, we really only have hoofball,” she comments, then adds, “Anything else?” “Well, I…” What did I do? I was… I remember playing games and stuff when I was really young, but… I can’t really remember much else. “I don’t know, to be honest.” Vinyl goes quiet for a second. “If you don't mind me asking… what was it like in the army?” I freeze. Should I tell her? If so, what should I say? If I did… what would she think of me? “It was… it was tough. I had to make decisions I know are right, but I wish I didn't have to make. I… I've seen things, done things, that never should have to happen…” I take a deep breath. “Us humans can be monsters, Vinyl.” I lower my head. “We can be real monsters…” I look down, dejected. One of my therapists had told me I had ‘survivor’s guilt’, that I felt bad that I lived instead of them. I couldn't disagree with him about that, but I also could agree. It wasn't guilt that I felt — it was shame. I think Vinyl notices my shift in demeanor, as she instantly changes the conversation. “So, uh… what time are you going to work?” I look at my alarm clock. It’s currently ten in the afternoon, and I had to be at the bar at twelve. “In two hours,” I say. “Gonna have to leave you alone, again.” She lets out a groan. “Ugh! Do you know how boring it is without you here?” she asks, throwing her hooves up in an exasperated sigh. “It’s, like, freakin’ torture!” I imagine that she’s probably right. Well, past the dramatics. I go to speak but am cut off as she does first. “Oh, wait! I have an idea!” She turns to me. I raise an eyebrow. “How’s about you take me with you!” I almost choke on my own spit. “W-what?!” I sputter. “Vinyl, no, that would be really stupid! Someone would see you, for sure!” I watch the horse deflate, grumbling to herself. “Oh, come on! I’m bored to tears here!” “Would you rather be entertained to dissection?” Vinyl grumbles to herself again, but this time remains quite. “And don’t break anything!” I yell back into the apartment. Two hours went by like nothing. Vinyl complained about being left alone, again, and I reminded her that her idea was freakin’ stupid… again. I closed the door behind me, locked it, checked the lock, then checked it a third time. Once I was sure that it was locked, I turned around and headed down the stairs. To my surprise, I didn’t bump into Mrs. Murphy on the way down. She almost always there to say ‘bye’. I take this as more of a surprise then a concern, as it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, and simply wave it off. The walk to the club was short and uneventful, as usual. The afternoon sun shone down on the almost deserted streets of Southie, somehow managing to bleed past the almost constant cloud-layer. My boots trudged and crunched through the thick layer of slush on the ground. We have a saying here in Boston: “Don’t like the weather, just wait a minute.” The sea-side effect caused the weather to be quite sporadic; storms coming out of the blue and really patchy, strange weather. We could get eight inches of snow one day, then have it all meant the next in some strange heat-wave. It was currently warm (well, warm by our standards) at a balmy fifty degrees, but I had no doubt it’d drop back down by tomorrow. As I said: “...Just wait a minute.” I approached the front door of the club. The sign said, ‘closed,’ but that would be changing soon. I pushed past the door and into the almost barren interior, save for its single occupant. Patrick takes down another barstool from then turns to face me. “Ah, there you are,” he began, straightening out the rest of the chairs. “Don’t think it’s gonna be a busy day today since the Sox are outta town, so better get ready for a borin’ night.” I take off my coat and put it on a rack that hung next to the door. “If you think it’s gonna be dead, then why open?” I ask, heading over to assist my boss. “I said not busy, not dead. This is a business I gotta, lad. Try and stop me from makin’ money!” I laugh at the eccentric Irishman, heading into the back. “If I stop you from making money, then I stop you from paying me. Believe it or not, but I kinda rely on the income.” “Eh, you’d manage. I hear that the circus needs a new strongman!” I roll my eyes, then pick up four kegs (two under my arms and one in each hand) then head over to the bar. Patrick looks at me as I approach, then shakes his head with a light chuckle. “I was just kidding about the strong man job, but… I think you should consider it as possible future employment.” I place the kegs down behind the bar. “Oh, for when you fire me? Come on, Pat, you know you can’t replace me.” He laughs. “Oh, don’t be so sure, lad! Everyone’s replaceable, even you: it’s called a rhinoceros!” Pat burst into laughter, and I can’t help but join him. The bar gets set up, the booze gets stalked, the bartender and DJ show up (I give him a pat on the back), and I’m currently at my station. People begin to funnel in at a decent rate. Nothing impressive, but I’ll agree with Pat that it was worth staying op— “Pssssst!” My head jerks up as I snap out of my head. I look around, only to find nothing. Okay… that was stra— “Pssssssssst!” I turn toward the neighboring ally. I raise an eyebrow. “Uh… Hello?” “Psssssst! Over h-here!” What the… oh, hell no! I swear to god—I stomp over to the ally and look inside. It looks fairly barren, having only a dumpster and a fairly large snowbank way in the back. I stomp my food, and say through clenched teeth: “Please tell me that isn't you.” “…I-It's not me!” My eye twitches. I walked over behind the dumpster and see… yup, I see a trembling—wait, no, she’s shivering. My anger fades. “Suprise?” I take off my coat and put it on the shivering horse. “Vinyl, what you fuck are you doing here?!” Vinyl snuggles into my jacket, apparently too cold to care that I’d caught her. “I-I got b-bored and w-wanted to follow y-you... S-Sorry?” I rub my temples. She fucking followed me? Wait, that means that she’s been outside for… “Vinyl, come with me,” I say, motioning for her to follow. “O-okay. Just as s-soon as I can f-feel my h-hooves,” she shakily follows me, holding my jacket as tightly around her as possible. You fucking idiot, Vinyl, I think as I approach the back door. I get to it and motion for Vinyl to with here. She does, and I quietly open the back door. Luckily, Patrick keeps this door unlocked. Even more luckily it leads to the way back storage, which we hardly used. I scanned the area, a small rectangular room piled with boxes and other crap, and sigh in relief when I don’t see anyone. “Okay, Vinyl, the coast is clear,” I whisper. Vinyl shoots past me and into the relative warmth of the inside. She runs around until she finds one of the heaters and instantly hugs it like it was a gift from heaven. “Oh, t-thank C-Celestia, heat!” I walk the rest of the way in, then look sternly down at Vinyl. “What the hell are you doing here?! I told you to stay at home! You could have… did anyone see you?!” Vinyl, still hugging the heater, mumbles, “Don’t w-worry. No one s-saw me.” My eye twitches. I take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay… okay. I need to go back to my post so you… Just stay here and don’t get caught, okay? I’ll check on you whenever I can.” I grab my jacket from Vinyl, almost having to tear it from the mare, and then stop outside. I mumble as I walk up the ally bad back to my sop— “And where have you been?” Shit… I walk up to Pat. He doesn’t seem mad. More concerned than anything, if I had to guess. “Where the hell have you been?” he asks. “I’ve been waitin’ here for a while, and lord knows how much longer you’re gone before that.” I bite my lip. “Sorry about that, Pat — just needed to take a leak.” I hated lying to the man, but I feared what he would say if he knew the truth. He regards me closely. “Alright, Alex… but tell me the next time ya have to so I don’t leave the door unguarded. Yer just lucky I haven’t found a reliable rhinoceros dealer, yet.” He cracks a smile, then pats me on the back. “No worries, lad.” I force out a smile. “Thanks.” He nods to me, then turns towards the door and mumbles, “Cold as all christ out here,” and walked back inside. I let out a long breath. “Holy fuck, that was close,” I mumble to myself. It was close. Too close. And now I had to worry that Vinyl could get caught. To be fair, though, Patrick would probably call me to take care of her before anything else, so I guess I still had that little buffer to rely on… I hope. Each second that goes by after that moment feels like an hour. People come and go, and I keep looking at my watch. It’s been about an hour since I left Vinyl in the backroom. Since I haven’t heard screaming, I’m guessing she managed to remain hidden. I poke my head inside of the club. I look around and see Pat over the bar. He notices me. I pick up my phone and point to it, and he seems to understand what I mean and waves me off. I close the door, thank god that he bought my lie, then run over to the back alley. I swing open the door and poke my head inside. “Vinyl? I whisper, stepping inside. I look towards the heater and… no Vinyl. Fuck! I run around the back room, searching everywhere for the white unicorn. When I come up empty, I nearly have a panic attack. Oh fuck… oh fuck! I run over to the door that leads to the main club. I swing it open and am instantly blasted by the club’s main bass. I walk forwards, only to stop and sigh in relief. “Hey, I’ve been waiting for you,” Vinyl screams, her head bouncing to the beat. “This DJ is pretty kick ass!” I reach forwards and grab Vinyl, putting her under my arm and running back into the storage room. When I close the door, I put down the horse and look her dead in the eye. “Have you lost your fucking mind?!” I scream in a hushed whisper. “If anyone walked over there you would have been found out!” Vinyl waves me off. “Eh, I was fine. I was close enough that I could’ve slipped back without anyone noticing me. Hell, my method’s already worked several times.” My eye twitches, and I hope I don’t pop a blood vessel. “Hey,” she begins, putting her hooves up innocently. “I just wanted to sample the music — can’t blame a DJ for loving her craft.” “I can, will, and am blaming you!” I all but scream, then rub my hands into my face. “What the fuck am I doing to do with you?!” “Uh… protect me?” she asks. “You’re not making that easy!” “Hey, I could have died from boredom. I saved myself, dude.” At this point, I’m shaking. “You are insufferable!” “No, I’m a pony.” “Aaaah!” I scream, then stomp back over to the door. “If you get caught, I will kill you!” I say as I exit. Vinyl just smirks. The rest of my shift goes by painfully slow. I managed to sneak out a few time to check on Vinyl, who was usually listening to the DJ. Now, I can’t blame her for being curious, but I can yell at her for being an idiot! I called her an idiot a lot in those few hours. She… she didn’t care. Anyways, my shift ended, and I got Pat to let me lock up. I did the usual: check to make sure everything was secure, put the chairs and crap up, and, of course, lock everything. Then, I went to pick up confront Vinyl. “Never do that again, you hear me? Never. Do. That. Again.” Vinyl lowers her head. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… I was really bored and… and I wanted too… I just…” She sighed. “If I’m going to be stuck in this world forever, I don’t want to be stuck in that house for all of that time.” I soften at that, some of my anger fading. Some. “Vinyl, we don’t know that we can’t send you back ye—” “Seriously, Alex?! How can you say that?” Vinyl outbursts, standing up and trotting closer to me. “I’m stuck here. You are fucking clueless, and I don’t know shit for dick about magic other than picking things up. Between both me and you, we’re fucked!” I open my mouth. No words come out. “See, even you can’t deny it, now. I’m stuck here. It’s something I’ll accept… someday. For now, I want to make the most of it, even if it ends in me getting cut open or something. I want to live, not be trapped.” I find the words. “Okay…” I say softly. She smiles weakly at me, then motions with her head towards the door. “Now, come on, let’s get back home.” I nod. Somehow, that realization hit me harder than it did her. Or… was she hiding it? I didn’t know, I just followed. We walked home without any trouble. When we got back, Vinyl took the couch, again, and I headed back into my bedroom. Neither of us got a good night sleep.