Uptown Girl

by Ron Jeremy Pony

If It's Love how can it be Wrong?

Uptown Girl

Tie in with Room for Rent

Chapter 1 ‘If it’s love how can it be wrong?’

The sights and sounds of the seemingly rural area wasn’t anything new to me; after all, Ponyville was a rural town, and I had thrived there quite easily. Still, this small town wasn’t quite the same as my small town. The houses were different, but even the differences had some uniformity to them. Not that the houses back home were really different from each other, but there was times that a residence would be brightly colored, or specifically designed to be simply pleasing. It appeared that most of the people here had designed their homes for function and not fashion.

A small sigh escapes my lips as look at bed and breakfast in front of me. Rainbow had been sweet enough to offer all of us a place to stay after the funeral, and while Pinkie, Twilight, and Applejack, who was unfortunately too late to attend the service at the funeral parlor, were staying with her I felt it might be a tad crowded. Instead I had asked if there was a hotel close by so we could enjoy each other’s company for the next few days. Rainbow had directed me toward this small bed and breakfast, and now I wondered if I really wanted to go into it.

I walked up toward the white and red house. It was a modest three story home, something that matched the conformity here, but it also didn’t seem to fit. Most of the homes I had passed, and this included the home Rainbow’s human colt friend had left for her, seemed to be well lived in. This home looked as though it was perfectly and perhaps even religiously kept up. Shaking it off I stroll up to the door, press the doorbell, and wait for someone to answer it. I stand, waiting, and nothing happens. There is no sound coming from the inside, but out here thunder is erupting around me. I push the doorbell again, and wait for somepony, or someone rather, to answer the door. Again I’m met with silence. An exasperated sigh escapes my lips and I go from ringing the doorbell, to knocking. It’s still polite, a bit forceful, but polite. I still hear nothing, and now there is lightening striking in the distance. If I were home I wouldn’t worry. I wouldn’t because I know the weather control pegasi would make sure that all of us were safe inside of our homes before they unleashed a massive storm.

This isn’t home, and these storms don’t wait.

“Please, if there is anyone in there I would like to rent a room!” I yell as I bang my hoof against the door.

Very few outside of Sweetie Belle know that I am afraid of lightening. The idea of that flash of light that could touch down if not handled correctly and end a pony’s life is frightening. Now, without anypony to control it my fear is more than justified. Another thunder clap, and another lighting strike cause me to drop down and cover my head.

“I should have stayed!” I cry out to myself.

A moment later I hear soft chuckle, and look up to see a person draped in a yellow slicker. He walks past me, unlocks the door, and then opens it. I watch as he pulls a chain and a sign lights up indicating that they are open.

“Sorry, I had to shut down the bed and breakfast for a while. A good friend of mine passed away, and after the funeral a few of us got together to remember him. I meant to be back a good deal earlier, but things got busy, and besides, this isn’t tourist season yet,” he says.

I nod and walk into the house. The outside might have been taken care of, but this… The floors look polished, the furniture is old, but preserved exceptionally well, and everything looks as though it was taken straight out of one of the pictures Simone had shown me of homes in the 1800’s. The gentlecolt, or rather gentleman, removes his slicker, putting it into a plastic tub, and then turns to face me.

There are moments when I am reminded this is another world. Things like the walk over here, the weather, and now as I am looking at this man who had suffered a terrible burn at some point in his life are these reminders. He sees me staring for a moment and his smile falters for a second.

“I know, believe me I understand that I’m not exactly the most pleasant being to look at,” he says.

“I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean anything,” I reply.

He shakes his head and smiles.

“It’s fine. Trust me, coming home after getting a little toasted by an RPG hitting the transport you’re in causes anyone to get used to the idea of people staring,” he says.

“RPG?” I ask.

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yeah, sorry, I figured that they had told you all about everything that’s been going on. RPG is a Rocket Propelled Grenade, and it’s an explosive device used to destroy an enemy target,” he says.

I look at him and shake my head.

“Why did that happen?” I ask.

“I was escorting a civilian technician on a stretch of road that was supposed to be in an unoccupied area. Instead a few seconds later our caravan is hit, and my transport, my Humvee is lit up light the fourth of July. I was lucky since I was blown free of it. All that really happened to me some burns across my face and my chest,” he replies.

“That’s terrible,” I say.

“Not really. I got discharged, spent some time recovering, and I found out who my friends were. The guy’s funeral I went to… He was a damned good friend. I wish that I would have been a better one back to him. It’s just kind of hard to deal with all of that tragedy, all at once. His kids, wife, and then his health all of it was gone in the blink of an eye. Hell, he didn’t really even tell any of us about his health. There was times he just wanted to carry his burden on his own,” he says.

I look at him and slowly I think about it and realize that I had seen him before. The funeral, Rainbow’s coltfriend’s funeral, was where I had seen him. I had been so busy trying to be there for Rainbow Dash that I barely thought to look around at the others in attendance.

“I heard a good deal about him,” I say.

“I imagine that it was from your buddy that was there with you. She looked pretty tore up about it,” he says.

I look at him with a questioning glance.

“You work around folks long enough you learn to read body language. Granted, reading a different species body language is a little different, but it was still there. She’s hurting something horrible,” he replies.

“I’m afraid it’s not my place to talk about it. A lady does not dive into the affairs of others. She is a dear friend, and while she has confided a great deal in me, I could not bear the thought of destroying her trust in me,” I say.

He nods, and the sound of thunder erupts again. He turns to see me shaking. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but a warm smile, a key, and an extended arm wasn’t exactly it.

“It occurs to me that someone who is lady like enough to want to get in out of the weather, keep her friend’s secret, and be patience enough to listen to me would enjoy a tour of the house, and of course being led to her room,” he says.

“That would be lovely,” I reply.

He lets me put a hoof into his offered hand and he leads me into the house itself. The first stop is a large den area with a very impressive private library. It wasn’t as full of books as the Ponyville library, but for a home, or bed and breakfast, it was quite large.

“This home is one of the oldest in the area. It dates back to 1845 when George Murrell moved here with his wife during the forced migration of the Cherokee people. George Murrell, having come from Virginia, decided to design the houses he remembered from his native state. The house was originally sat on a modest eighty acres, but over time the city and state have slowly ate the land up until all that really remains is six acres, and the house itself. All of the furniture in the home has been painstakingly reproduced in the style of the furniture of that time frame,” he says.

I look at it and while I can see that the patterns most likely are dated they are quite lovely. It looked as if every piece was chosen to accent the room, and I couldn’t help but see how it made the fire place, the hardwood floors, and the off white walls pop. I gently walked toward a couch and touched it. It was soft, nearly as soft as my bed at home.

“It’s lovely,” I say.

“Thank you,” he replies as he nods.

He leads out of the room and down a hall into a large dining room. The room itself has a large table, and from the look of the table I would say it appeared as if the table had been hoof, or rather hand, made. He stopped and let me look at it.

“The table itself is as old as the house. This table was made from the surrounding trees as a present. Unfortunately the treatment they gave wood at the time leaves something to be desired. I’m afraid the table does have to be lacquered and treated every couple of months,” he said.

Room by room he took me through the house, and the entire time I didn’t think about the storm outside. I didn’t even pay attention to the thunder and lighting. Instead I focused on the house, how beautiful it was, and finally he showed me to my room.

“This would be your room. Breakfast is at eight am, and of course you are welcomed to invite friends. Lunch is served at one thirty pm, and supper is usually about eight pm. I myself am a vegetarian, and I do hope that won’t be a problem,” he said.

“Oh, that won’t be a problem at all. I’m not fond of meat. Since so many creatures in our world can talk and communicate I can’t stand the idea of eating anything,” I say.

“Very well, I do hope that you enjoy your stay,” he says.

“Wait, what is the cost?” I ask.

“Oh, well, I wasn’t open when you arrived, and to make a lady wait for service, regardless of the situation, is unforgivable. So, your first night is on the house. If you like the room and service tonight then we’ll discuss the room’s cost tomorrow,” he replies.

I nod and watch as he closes the door. I trot over the bed and pull the blanket back. Gently I lay down and feel the bed nearly swallow me. It’s soft, almost like down feathers. I close my eyes to sleep, and nearly find it. Instead a moment later I hear the sound of someone singing. Slowly I get up and walk toward the sound until I find my host. He’s standing, facing away from me, looking at a picture of a young man, and singing such a beautiful song.

I listen as the words of loss, of longing, of desire fill the room, and the entire time I marvel at his singing. I step forward, almost entrenched with his song until he finally notices me and stops.

“Is there something wrong with the room?” he asks.

“No, I heard singing, and when I came down here I found you singing. You’re quite good,” I reply.

He smiles, pours something hot looking into a cup, and gently sips on it. He offers me a cup, and I nod. A moment later I find myself drinking a slightly odd, but pleasant, tasting tea.

“What were you singing?” I ask.

“It’s nothing really. Just a song I sung when I wasn’t quite so pretty,” he said as he motioned toward his face.

“I’m sorry,” I reply.

He shakes his head and looks up toward the picture.

“Do you mind if we talk for a while?” he asked.

I looked at him and nodded. He sighed and took another drink from the steaming cup. I watched as he leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. He breathed in and let out a small sigh.

“The military is a lot different now than it was when my father was in. Back then, back in the 60’s you didn’t dare come out,” he said.

I looked at him and tried to think of where I had heard that phrase before. It had been with a friend of Simone’s. Georgie, I think, had said that he had come out to his parents. I wasn’t exactly sure what he had meant until I realized that he was a colt cuddler, a homosexual. Personally I didn’t care that he was. It didn’t matter to me. Georgie was one of the kindest souls I had ever met and his, husband I suppose, was a very sweet man.

“Being a homosexual was looked down on?” I asked.

He nodded and took another sip from his cup.

“It was very looked down on. It was to the point that no had better know a damned thing about anyone being gay. If they did then there would be hell to pay. To be honest it was like that for a long time. Carl, the guy in the picture over there, didn’t like the idea that I wanted to serve a country that wanted me to hide part of myself,” he says as he drinks his tea, “he didn’t understand though. I loved him dearly, but he didn’t understand. My dad, grandpa, and great grandpa had all been in the military. Grandpa and Dad had been career military, and I wanted do what they did. I wanted serve in the military too.”

I touch his hand and smiles at me. What had unsettled me slightly before, the scarring, didn’t bother me now. Instead it felt like I was just talking to a friend.

“I served because I felt it was right to, and Carl broke up with me because of it. It hurt, but I got over it. I know that Bryant had given Carl a piece of his mind about doing that, but that was before… You know, I never realized what a good friend Bryant had been until I realized how much he needed all of us. This small town is a lot more accepting now, but there are still a lot of folks who won’t admit to family being gay. My Dad did because I know he loved me anyway, but I didn’t expect Bryant to accept that Carl was bisexual. It was hard for me to get past that, but his brother had a lot of redneck tendencies. Still, he was one of the more accepting people I’ve met,” he says as he wipes his eye.

“Rainbow Dash talked highly of him,” I say.

He nodded and looked toward me.

“I don’t claim to understand all that happened between them, but I’m glad it did. Bryant needed someone in his life again. I know that a lot of folks might not really understand it, but then again not a people really understand me or the things I do. Mom sure didn’t. She left home and joined the Eastboro Pentecostal Church when she found out that I was gay,” he says.

“She joined them?!” I ask feeling completely astounded.

He laughs and nods. I can see a little of what looks like sadness creep into his features. I know it must hurt terribly to have one of your parents betray you like that. It had to be so painful to know that they would rather hate you, all of you, rather than accept that you were different. I couldn’t help but feel thankful for my own parents. Granted, they did at times come off as a little uncouth, but at least they were honest and hardworking ponies. They accepted everyone, and they even liked Sweetie Belle’s little coltfriend Button. There was several unicorns who would frown on their daughters even considering dating an Earth Pony, but they are very accepting.

“I take it that you’ve heard of them,” he says.

“Heard is not nearly a word I would use to describe it. I was there when they attempted to picket Cherry Berry and Raul’s attempt at a public union. It was terrible, and the horrid things coming from their mouths… how could anyone be that intolerant?” I ask.

He shrugs and opens a case on the coffee table. I watch as he lifts it, stuffs a little tobacco into the ivory pipe he’s lifted, and then lights it. I hold back my remark about the smoke as he begins to puff away at the beautiful pipe.

“Most of them don’t know any better. They’ve been raised in hate for so long that they can’t seem to get out of it. Mom was the same. She made me come close to hating myself a few times growing up. I’d question what was wrong with me. I’d ask myself why I had to be so different, so weird. There were times I wondered if maybe I was being tested. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but it was Dad who finally reached me. He took me fishing with him one day, and as we sat there he told me that he knew something was bothering me. He knew it was something big, and if I wanted to talk to him I could. He also wanted me to know that no matter what happened he loved me. I still wasn’t sure about myself, what I wanted, what I needed, until a couple of years later. When I discovered it I came out to Dad, and then to mom. Dad stayed true to his word, and mom stayed true to hers,” he said.

I shook my head. I knew how my parents felt about fillyfoolers. Both of them didn’t agree with it, but I know that neither of them would abandon me if I had been born one. It only seemed to reinforce the notion that I am very lucky to have the parents I have. I walked toward him, hugged him, and felt him return it back to me.

“Thanks,” he says.

“It’s fine darling. So, do you still love this Carl?” I ask.

“I did, but it’s changed. For one, I don’t like how he looks at me now. He can’t help it, but it still bothers me, and besides… I did meet someone else,” he says.

I turn to see a batpony walking into the room. I study him for a moment before I realize it is a stallion. The batpony takes a seat next to my new friend and smiles at me. I can’t help but shiver slightly. The sight of their fangs is a bit unnerving.

“Guests Rick? I thought that this wasn’t the tourist season,” he teases.

“It isn’t, but this lovely lady had to wait for me to open the place. I thought we had agreed that you would run the front desk while I was out Star,” Rick says.

Star smiles at him, leans over, and kisses him before placing a hoof on his leg.

“I was sleeping like a baby, although I did miss having my teddy bear with me,” he says leaning into Rick’s side.

“I get it. Bed time is calling,” Rick says as he stands.

“And please, sing for me again,” Star pleads.

“Later, I think that I know a certain naughty boy who has ignored some of his chores, and I’m thinking of at least a dozen ways he can pay me back,” Rick says.

I watch them start to walk off, before I clear my throat. They both look back at me and I smile softly.

“The two of you are quite cute together, but I must ask, where did you meet?” I ask.

Star smiles brightly and takes a seat on the couch. Rick follows suit and sits next to him.

“I was getting off duty for Princess Luna. Being one of her royal guards I don’t get a lot of time off, so when I do I like to do what any other pony does. Take a little time, enjoy myself, and relax. Well, no sooner did I get off then I hear the Princess talking to someone. I followed the voice and there was this ‘human’ standing down from her, asking a few questions, and offering suggestions. I walked near them and heard him suggest a few things we could do to enhance the guard,” Star ays before smiling at Rick.

“First Lieutenant Star Shine was insulted,” Rick replies.

“Insulted didn’t even begin to explain it. I’m the head of Princess Luna’s private guards. I only answer to Shining Armor, when he isn’t ‘busy’ with Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. I couldn’t believe this human had the gall to say that we were lax. I walked over, asked him what experience he had,” Star Shine says.

“It was more like he walked over, demanded that I explain what gave me the idea to say that his guard was far too lax for their own good, and just who I thought that I was. I explained who I was, my experience in the military, and the fact that I had been a first sergeant in the military. From there it escalated into shouting match, then a drinking match, and sometime after that I believe we found ourselves in your bed didn’t we?” Rick asks.

Star Shine nodded and looked at the floor.

“I hadn’t come out yet about being a coltcuddler. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to admit it to myself,” Star Shine says as he looks at Rick.

“So, he decided to take some leave, come to Earth as a representative, and has since moved in here with me,” Rick says.

“It’s been wonderful, but I do wonder what will happen when I go back. I know it isn’t frowned on, not horribly anyway, but I’m afraid that some of my guards may want me to step down. There are several of them that don’t like the idea of coltcuddlers or fillyfoolers serving with them,” Star Shine says.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to retain your position,” I pipe in.

They both grin at me and Star Shine shakes his head.

“The other stallions and mares that I work with are very traditional. I mean they are traditional to the point of believing in herds instead of this fairly modern trend of one mare per stallion. The idea of having someone who doesn’t want to be part of that, and doesn’t even want to have a member of the opposite sex as a mate would ostracize me from them. I’d be the odd stallion out,” he says.

I understand what he’s saying, but I just can’t make myself believe it. I don’t want to believe that the royal guard could be so cold and uncaring. I knew they had to be strong and able to follow orders, but if Twilight’s brother was any indication I would have thought that they would all be gentlestallions.

“Is every Batpony like that?” I ask.

“Of course not, but those of us who serve Princess Luna are a little different. Our families have always served her since before she was banished. Tradition has maintained that we follow the ancient ways,” he answers.

I shake my head and then look at them.

“What would happen if you did come out?” I ask.

“Most likely I would have to leave the guard. If for no other reason than to keep peace among them,” Star Shine says.

“And he could live here with me,” Rick replies.

“Are you sure you would want a dishonorably discharged guardspony as your mate?” Star Shine asks.

“It wouldn’t bother me and you know it,” Rick says.

I watch them and suddenly I find myself inspired. It’s true there has been a tragedy, and I still feel for Rainbow Dash so much, but out of this tragedy there has been another love story rise. I smile and look at them both.

“Have you considered getting a civil union? I would rather call it a marriage, but for the moment I believe they are only allowing civil union between our species,” I say.

I see them both look at each other, and then Star Shine smiles again.

“I know that I would love to,” he says.

“If you both want to I would love to make the clothes for you. I did the dress for Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, and I have been told that I am quite good at stallion fashion as well,” I say.

They both seem excited about the prospect of doing so. I can’t help but feel the same way. We say our goodnights and I head upstairs to the room. I may have to go back to Ponyville in order to make the clothes, or I could call Simone. I know she wouldn’t mind helping out for something like this. She’s practically a mare, a woman, after my own heart. That decides it. Tomorrow I will call Simone, and if I know her she will be out here in a couple of days. Perhaps I can even talk to the girls… I stop there. I do want to help, but what kind of friend am I being right now. Rainbow Dash is crying her eyes out, suffering, and she has her friends here with her. I had actually thought about asking for them to help with the clothes. I can’t do that to her, to them right now.

“Rarity what were you thinking? If this would have been you would you really want to be dragged out and asked to help make something wonderful while you felt so terrible?” I asked myself.

I knew the answer. I couldn’t do this to her, but I still wanted to help my new friends. Simone would be the best answer, and I would still need to schedule some time with Rainbow as well. Besides, I do want to hear more about her coltfriend. Of everypony she had dated and been with, including Soarin’ from the Wonderbolts, this was the only one that seemed to be more than a mild infatuation. She was suffering like she was really in love with him.

Tomorrow I will go with them to breakfast, talk to Rainbow, and maybe, just maybe I will let them know about Star Shine and Rick.

Author's Note:

(Okay, this is going to be a three chapter add on with Room for Rent. Much like I Love this Bar this story is going to be a slightly more somber affair. Although I am going to say that there are going to be a few differences between the two stories.

Thanks for reading,

LF)

Comments

[Quill Waver]

I must say I am quite impressed with the way this is going.

You have some very minor grammatical errors; just a missing comma here and there is all, though. You prose is solid and your technique is well in this, and you have my attention for more. You are able to make the characters come to life and convince me about the situation.

Starfall's Score:
8.7/10. Well-written. This story is just shy of a written nirvana.

[Jack Kellar]

"Room for rent"? That's not on your story list

[Ron Jeremy Pony]

4305179

No it's not. Drax99 has opened up his 'Room for Rent' Universe for spinoffs. I've completed one (I Love this Bar), and am currently writing two (Uptown Girl, and Be Careful what you Wish for). He said that as long as the story reflects the feel of his own story then it can be considered cannon in that universe. Ergo everything that happens in I Love this Bar happened in the 'Room for Rent' universe, and the same can be said for Up Town Girl and when I finally publish it Be Careful what you With for.

Thanks for reading and reviewing

[Winter Quill]

I found it rather enjoyable so far, and the setup is rather interesting. I think this is a nice follow up to the last story and I'm looking forward to seeing more.

[Chaos Theory]

This story isn't half bad, I'm glad I gave it a chance. I don't understand the lack off interest and the dislikes though.