Life Could Be A Dream

by TheAmazingMe

Life and Lies

Why hadn't I seen this coming? After all, Div got the tip-off about my leaving from them. But, especially after my fight with Div, I was least prepared to see my parents waiting for me outside the station. With a will, I rubbed the last few tears from my eyes and walked up to them.

Mom looked around. “Where’s Div?”

Oh I was so not ready to deal with this. How could I tell them about our fight? How would they take it if I told them about my feelings for him? I looked down shamefully. “He…I…said goodbye to him at the apartment.”

“Darn! He was supposed to talk you out of going.” Mom said angrily. I looked up at them. Mom's eyes showed signs of crying. Dad’s face was unreadable. I knew I would feel horrible saying goodbye to them. If only things had gone like I planned; I explain myself much better through a letter than I do face to face.

“Sorry, Mom, I’m still going.” I said, putting all my resolve behind that statement.

Mom's eyes welled up with tears. “But, why…?”

My dad interrupted. “Dear, you said if Div couldn’t convince him…”

Mom stomped her hoof foalishly. “Don’t you try holding my words against me, Second Story! This is my son we’re talking about.”

She turned on me. I could taste the maternal guilt trip headed my way. It was bitter. “You can’t just go! You’ve just started getting to know your father again. It took ages to get him to the point of retiring.”

“Not exactly selling my good points, dear.” I was starting to realize where my warped sense of humor came from.

She ignored his interruption and pressed on. “We finally have the time together as a family. You can move back in with us! We’ll weather whatever storm you’re facing together!”

Dad spoke up again. “This isn’t about us as a family, Lovely. He needs to take care of his career. You heard about how big this opportunity is from Hardy.”

“And where do you think he learned to put work ahead of his family?” My eyes widened. Mom rarely argued with anyone like this, let alone her husband. She'd always made allowances for him; I thought she barely even noticed when dad wasn't around.

For his part, dad looked remarkably unperturbed. He didn’t even flinch as she blew up in his face. Instead, he persisted in trying to stop mom’s guilt trip. “Your son is an adult, whether we want to recognize that or not.”

“He doesn’t have to go, though. He could…” Mom looked on the verge of more tears. I really didn’t want to see my mother cry. I was sure I’d lose my resolve.

Dad tried giving me a reassuring look. “We didn’t raise him to be the type of pony to live off of others, even us. If he doesn’t take this opportunity, who knows when the next will come up?”

It was an eerie feeling, to think my dad understood me better than mom in this situation. Although the guilt I had from making them believe this would advance my career was very high at this point.

Mom couldn’t speak, she shook with silent sobs as tears streamed down he cheek. I stepped up to hug her, but she didn’t see that and reached for dad. He embraced her tightly. I looked up into his face and was shocked beyond speech to see there were tears in his eyes too.

I worked my mouth to try and say anything but the words wouldn’t come. Dad reached over and closed my mouth. I looked at him and he smiled with tears in his eyes.

“There are some sacrifices one has to make in order to accomplish one’s goals. Do you have a goal in mind, Ly?” Dad asked.

A lump rose in my throat. It was hard to speak, but at last I managed. “Yes, sir.”

Dad beckoned me in with his free hoof. I shed a fear tears on his coat for the first time I can remember. He didn’t seem to mind the tears. I felt his forelimb around me and then another as mom hugged me as well.

I felt a leaden weight in the pit of my stomach. How could I do this to them? Couldn’t I trust them enough to live with them again? I found my resolve wavering. Luckily, Dad released me and he and mom stood side by side.

He looked at mom and I, both still in tears and he sighed. “Would you two lighten up? It’s six months, not six years! Your mother and I are in good health and, as long as you haven’t missed your train, we will all be back here again before we know it.” I nodded quietly. I looked at mom, she stepped forward to hug me again.

“I know it will be hard, but promise me you’ll write. A postcard, a sentence, whatever, as long as I hear from you.” Mom insisted. She released me to look me in the eye.

I nodded. “Yes, Mom. I promise.”

She bopped my nose. “Good colt. Now go and remember to have some fun, too.” I adjusted my saddlebags and headed inside the station.

Thankfully, the bags hadn’t shifted, so my altered cutie mark went unnoticed by my parents.

***

“Mr. Inkwell, with Vanhoover just a few moments away, there are things we need to go over.” Open Schedule, a light purple mare only just bigger than a filly, was trying in vain to get me to focus. Her accent reminded me strongly of Silver Platter. She’d introduced herself as my coordinator. Every writer on the trip had one, I was assured. Her job was supposedly to make my life easier on this trip. This had yet to pan out for me.

Quite frankly, the little mare was a nuisance. It was tough to go anywhere without catching a glimpse of her two tone pink mane. I’d already gotten an earful about eating by myself. Just yesterday, I heard a lecture about going off alone. All this while everyone was stuck on a train! I was beginning to feel like a colt on some long term field trip.

“Ms. Schedule, nothing would give me more pleasure.” I said drily, rolling my eyes for full effect.

She ignored my sarcasm and ploughed on. “Mr. Neighson was quite insistent that we test the limits of your abilities in the first few stops. I have an interview set up for you with a gallery owner in downtown Vanhoover. Since you’ve experience working with a monthly magazine, I trust you are familiar with the kinds of deadlines and editing cycles it takes. Given our rather tight itinerary we'll need this article completed by the time we hit the next city. The deadlines get a little more forgiving after this point. GCQ isn’t expecting much in the first few installments, but you’re going to be building up a feature article based on your travel experience over these next six months.”

It all sounded familiar. I was less than thrilled to have to do an interview article again. “Is that all?”

The small mare took a large breath and looked me in the eye. “A small word about attitude, Mr. Inkwell. I can appreciate a good joke every now and again but your behavior towards me has been less than professional and I will not stand for it. To be frank, you’re moody, sarcastic, and completely unsuited to write for fashion. This industry is neither kind nor forgiving. If you can’t put on a happy face and make nice with ponies, you’d be better off writing biographies on historically significant ponies.”

I winced at the thought of dusty libraries. “You may have a point…”

She cut me off with confidence. “I know I do. I’ve been in this business for quite a bit longer than you realize. Even the phony ponies do better than the tortured writers.”

Ouch, I thought. “Please, I’m sorry. I let personal issues get in my way and it was very unprofessional of me. If I might make one small request?”

She arched her eyebrows in surprise. “One does not usually make apologies and requests at the same time, but given that I expected you to blow me off I’m inclined to listen, Mr. Inkwell.”

“Please call me Li- Blot, Open.” I could have kicked myself at the near miss. “Mr. Inkwell is my father.” I watched her expression go from surprise, to insult at using her first name, to a hint of a smile, and then back to seriousness. It was quite a feat of facial gymnastics.

“That would be unprofessional, Blot.” The slip caused her to raise a hoof to her lips. “I-I meant…”

“We’ll have a lot of time together, Open, I would rather hear my name.” Even if it wasn’t really my name, I thought.

“Perhaps a little bit of unprofessionalism is warranted, given the circumstances. Fine, Blot, shall I give you the rundown on the first stop?”

Vanhoover was larger than anticipated, with all sorts of ponies and even non-ponies. I tried not to stare at the first minotaur I saw, luckily Open steered me away before I attracted its notice. Open led me through the city as though she'd walked its streets her whole life. Then again, with what little I knew of her, maybe she had.

I'd thought we were heading straight for the gallery, but our first stop was a bistro. "Um, Open?"

I could see her barely suppress the urge to correct me. Instead, she held the door open and gestured me inside. "You might enjoy the food from the dining car, Mr.- I mean Blot. However, I tend to enjoy fresher offerings. Try the fruit, you won't regret it." She said as she handed me a menu. We sat ourselves at a small booth and looked over the selection. There was a plethora of fruit-centric options, so Open's advice wasn't exactly helpful.

I looked up at her. "Half this menu is fruit."

She looked over her menu with just her eyes, but I could tell she was smiling. "Oh, is it? Then I guess I won't be wrong."

"Look at you. Telling jokes." I was mildly proud of her, on top of being annoyed.

The waiter came and took our order. I decided to go with grilled pineapple on a pile of hay fries. Open ordered a grilled fruit kebab with a sparkling grape cider. The silence between us turned awkward and we took turns looking at our hooves.

Finally, I ventured a question. "So, where are you from?"

"Liverpone, Great Bittain." That explained the accent.

"My father's...friend grew up in Great Bittain." I backed off calling Silver a butler. I'm sure plenty of ponies had butlers from Great Bittain in Canterlot, but I didn't need to give away any clues as to my identity. Well, that and I had never been comfortable with the idea of personal servants. Although dad and Silver were good friends. Call it a half-truth.

Silence had fallen between us again. "So, are you going to keep lying to me, or am I not supposed to call you on that?" I had to hand it to her, she didn't avoid confrontation.

"What are you..."

She cut me off. "Look, whatever reason you have for hiding who you really are is your own business, I guess. I just thought I should tell you that you are a horrible liar." It wasn’t my first time hearing that.

I sighed. "You're not going to rat me out?"

She spread her hooves. "Do I look like a rat to you?"

I bit off a retort about her size. "Fair enough. My reasons are my own. It's not that I don't trust you to keep a secret..."

"Liar." She pointed out.

"How do you know?" I asked sincerely.

"You never maintain eye contact. At first, I thought you were just shy. Not saying you're not shy, but there was another part to it. Anytime you're asked about your past, you avoid the question. You also play with your hooves when you lie."

"I do not." I said defensively, trying to keep my hooves still.

"I guess I could teach you how to lie better, since you insist on doing so." Open remarked idly. "You have a lot to learn, so we could start now, if you like?"

Looking around, I decided it couldn't hurt. "Okay. What's first?"

Author's Note:

Another shortie. Playing the next few by ear...or eye. Anyways, thanks to all those who support this work. The upvotes and comments make it real easy to want to continue!

Comments

[Skarsnik]

Is she hitting on him? That could be funny at least :)

[disuser]

More sexual tension, and a plot twist to boot! M. Night Shamalamadingdong is strong with you...

Also, does anyone else find it ironic that Life is taking advice on lying from a (I'm assuming) liar?

Foreshadowing!

[TheAmazingMe]

6176185 As Rowdy Roddy Piper once said, "Just when they think they know all the answers, I change the questions!"

[Anzel]

Ponies teaching ponies to lie! The horror ;D

[Crystal Wishes]

I knew I would feel horrible saying goodbye to them. If only things had gone like I planned; I explain myself much better through a letter than I do face to face.

Ugh... I feel you, Life. I'm awful at face-to-face confrontation. Actually, I'm awful at confrontation over the phone. Or on the internet. ... I think I have a problem.

My dad interrupted. “Dear, you said if Div couldn’t convince him…”

Mom stomped her hoof foalishly. “Don’t you try holding my words against me, Second Story! This is my son we’re talking about.”

Hah! Never use logic with a mare. They just throw it back in your face with emotional reasoning.

“You can’t just go! You’ve just started getting to know your father again. It took ages to get him to the point of retiring.”

“Not exactly selling my good points, dear.” I was starting to realize where my warped sense of humor came from.

Okay, this made me snort-chuckle aloud. I'm in the same boat with my own father. For better or for worse, my sense of humor came from him, too.

“And where do you think he learned to put work ahead of his family?” My eyes widened. Mom rarely argued with anyone like this, let alone her husband. She'd always made allowances for him; I thought she barely even noticed when dad wasn't around.

Whoa, Mama Lovely. Them's fighting words. But good on her!

Mom couldn’t speak, she shook with silent sobs as tears streamed down he cheek. I stepped up to hug her, but she didn’t see that and reached for dad. He embraced her tightly. I looked up into his face and was shocked beyond speech to see there were tears in his eyes too.

Well, there goes my amusement... Now I just want to cry again. On so many levels. Mama Lovely crying, not seeing her son and instead going to Story, and then the tears in his eyes... ugh.

It all sounded familiar. I was less than thrilled to have to do an interview article again.

Me, neither, if it goes as swell as the previous one did. Next he'll need a secret identity to hide from his secret identity to hide from his real identity!

She looked over her menu with just her eyes, but I could tell she was smiling. "Oh, is it? Then I guess I won't be wrong."

Ooh, this one is feisty! I like her! Can we keep her? Will we keep her? Wait, is she going to turn out to be cruel with ulterior motives?! am I never going to be able to trust a mare again?

"So, are you going to keep lying to me, or am I not supposed to call you on that?"

......... Busted. She does seem pretty darn quick on the wit, though, so I'm not surprised. He's also not a great liar. Sorry, Life, but you know it's true.

I just thought I should tell you that you are a horrible liar." It wasn’t my first time hearing that.

I just told you that five seconds ago!

"I do not." I said defensively, trying to keep my hooves still.

Don't you hate when someone points out a habit of yours and all you can do is focus on how you're about to and trying not to do that?