The Artist

by P-Berry

Chapter 4

It was a bright afternoon with ponies having a great time, but while they ran around playing with dogs or each other outside in the Manehatten public park, I was confined to the bench I had briefly found myself on the day prior. I was a bit unnerved once again, me being dressed in a white button down with the note left by fresh coat telling me to meet here for a picnic.

I had gathered the basket of sandwiches and even though she haddn’t asked, it was good to be prepared and hey, the more the merrier. However I wasn’t very merry because unlike our last date where she held out for fifteen minutes before showing up, this time she was topping out over an hour.

I didn’t want to think anything bad of her. I was even doing my best giving her the benefit of the doubt: She could have had something unexpectedly come up, it could have been an emergency, somepony might have died or she could had suddenly been kidnapped by the Manehatten drug lord Crawl Revingrad.

Oh the name just sent shivers of terror down my spine; Thee infamous Crawl!!! Elusive and a hippogriff to be dreaded. Cross him and it will be the cross you’re buried beneath, often times an empty grave as most ponies are never found.

However I was more sensible than that and could infer that she hadn’t in fact been kidnapped but... “Why is she so late?” I asked once again as I raising my head to once again scan the park for that familiar face of Fresh Coat hoping that she was just lost or didn’t know where to find me.

I wanted to get up and look for her, but then again I feared that she might miss me in this particular spot, so I stayed.

Thankfully nobody paid me much attention. Just a stallion afterall… sitting in the park with a picnic basket… alone. I whimpered to think that she left once again, the reality was starting to set in, but what was the cut off? An hour and a half? Maybe two? How long would I be sitting here before I give in and just left?

It was a great day, but to me it felt like an overcast and soon it would turn to a downpour as I trod off back to my apartment with my tail between my legs.

Was it me or was it her? Could it be me, it was a hard question to answer as I was polite and kind and on time, or was it her? Was she the kind of mare that liked being mistreated, to be called names and demeaned?

I shook my head. No that wasn’t her, it was just my mind getting to me again. She was nice and she appreciated me for being me. Something that was also backed up by that kiss she gave me too.

I liked her. I mean of course I liked her, why else would I be here? But what I mean is I really like her and although it wasn’t said aloud, I would dare to say I liked her more than just a friend and it was something I hoped she held the same opinion towards.

Straightening myself up I decided that I would politely wait another thirty minutes. If she didn’t show up I would simply accept that something greater had come up and think nothing of it. After all it’s what a good friend would do; be understanding and mindful of other ponies priorities. If she had something more important, then by all means I shouldn't keep her from that even if the note told me to meet her here.

She may have even been half drunk when writing this and had forgotten to take her own schedule into account. After all she does paint walls for a living, maybe she just had another client. Whatever the case I wouldn’t let this abandonment get to me. I was better than that, I wouldn’t jump to conclusions and I wouldn’t get all riled up about it.

So beginning to relax I began to count the minutes until I conceded to leave. Intent on passing the time my gaze began to wonder as it casually fell over other ponies enjoying their time in the park: I could see foals running about, playing with a ball, an elderly couple sitting on a bench on a sidewalk opposite of my side of the park, and coming my way a group of younger bucks laughing about as they drank what, based on the brown glass bottles, must have been beer.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves quite a bit as they numbering four to their entourage and as they passed me swooning around and drinking even more I casually said with a smile on my face, “A bit early to be drinking, huh?” I had nothing better to do, so talking with a group of stallions that seemed easy-going seemed like a fine idea to say the least.

However, when I dropped my remark one of the bigger stallions turned my way, his smile lowering to a frown only to sinisterly warn, “Shut the hell...up.”

I put both my hoofs up to indicate I meant no harm verbally or physically and simply said, “Sorry, I-I was just sayin.”

However, this stallions wasn’t pleased. He marched up to me, getting too close for comfort as he pressed his chest close to mine with his muzzle looking down on me doing his best to intimidate me. “Keep your shit to yourself,” he said placing a hoof no my chest. “Got that?”

Now I wasn’t exactly up to fight or turn my mediocre morning into something of a hefty hospital bill, so I continued to cower out and say, “H-hey, alright, alright! I’m sorry.”

“Get the hell off him,” one of his buds called. “He ain't worth the nail of my hoof.”

The buck standing over me looked back to his group then back to me. With one hefty shove of his hoof he nearly knocked the wind out of me as he sauntered away while his buddies patted him on the back, calling him a ‘bad ass’.

“Asshole,” I muttered as I pushed myself back up to my haunches. If I really wanted to I would have totally beaten the shit out of him of course. However, I still had my date to show up to and I didn’t want to have to show up saying I committed second degree murder with bloodstains on my white shirt, so of course I had to let him off easy.

Anyway, now my morning had gone from poor to even worse and I was only in five minutes to my thirty minute proposition. It didn’t seem to be going great already, however, as I eyed the group of bucks as they made their way away from me dreaming up of all the ways I would've laid it down on them if they took it one step further I heard a particular set of hoofsteps approaching from behind.

Looking I found it to be the familiar shape of the beige unicorn walking her way down the path towards me.

Needless to say that I first and foremost, felt relieved that she had shown up after all. Even though that relief was quickly joined by surprise as I realized that, contrary to my expectations, she wasn’t wearing her dress anymore. In fact, she was only dressed in her ballcap again, reminding me of that day she had shown up at my doorstep to paint my living room.

I couldn’t deny that I felt a little disappointed at that. Of course, she was free to wear whatever she wanted to wear, but after coming to our last ‘date’ wearing a dress, and especially now that I had put on a button-up shirt, I had half-expected her to wear something at least somewhat fancy too. In fact, now I actually felt a little out-of-place -not to say stupid- sitting here in my fancy shirt.

But I did my best to not let it show, focusing instead on the fact that she had shown up after all and not stood me up like I had apprehended. One thing still… I hope she didn’t see that confrontation I just had. I totally would have served their asses up on a silver platter but to have her see it probably wouldn’t be the best thing for our relationship.

“Hey,” I said with a smile as she came closer. I could tell that the last night still lay heavy on her back, and contrary to our last get-together, she wasn’t wearing any make-up, neither had she bothered to style her mane - she looked as casual as ever.

“Hey buddy!” she greeted me cheerfully, raising her hoof. “How’s it going?” I quickly got up from the bench, expecting that she wanted to give me a hug - in light of last night’s events, this seemed like an appropriate greeting.

However, before I could put my forelegs around her, her hoof shot forward, bumping against mine in a quick hoofbump. “Badaboom!” she exclaimed, pulling her hoof back as if it had exploded against mine, then giggling. “How you doin’ man? ‘s been a while.”

“Uhh…” I muttered, my hoof still outstretched, almost petrified to the denial I’d inadvertently received. What exactly was that? Was she … still drunk or something? -or did she really think I was gonna hoof bump her?

“Come on, let’s have a seat over there,” she invited me, pointing her hoof in the direction of a free spot on a nearby meadow. “Iu’m starving!” she affirmed with wide eyes, “You brought some sammiches, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” I replied, my look going back to the picnic basket, “I… I actually did.”

“Sweet. That’s my man.” she said with a grin, punching her hoof against my shoulder, “I’ll be waiting over here.”

“Uh, okay.” I muttered again, my horn lighting up, magic picking up our basket as I followed her.

We walked for a few moments, then Fresh Coat stopped on a spot underneath a big tree and sat down. I set down the picnic basket, then lowered myself to the ground next to her.

“So, what’s good?” she asked, laying down and relaxing, “Anything new?”

“N-not really.” I replied timidly. Seriously, what was she expecting? It’s been maybe five hours since we had last seen each other. -or… since she’s seen me.

“Huh.” Fresh Coat said with a huff, raising an eyebrow, “And here I thought you had some interesting architect-story to tell me.” She paused for a moment, reflecting, “What’s with that school-project-thing you told me about yesterday? Any progress on that?”

While I couldn’t deny that I felt at least a little bit fluttered that she still remembered what I had told her yesterday, her odd questioning and general behavior still rendered me rather confused, so I just shook my head. “N-no, not yet.”

The painter mare leaned back on the grass, giving me a smirk. “Not very chatty today, are we?” she chuckled, “Still a little drunk, huh?”

‘More like not drunk enough.’ a voice in my head hissed, but I shook my head. “Y-yeah.” I quickly affirmed, “Yeah, I think I might have had a little too much last night.”

“Hehe, tell me about it.” she chuckled, “I can’t deny that I was a little shitfaced as well.” her chuckle grew into a full-fledged laugh as she continued, “Remember when I kissed you!?” she asked, almost choking on her own breath.

“Yeah…” I muttered, feeling myself blush for some reason, “Yeah, how could I ever-”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” she apologized, still chuckling lightly, “I tend to do crazy shit like that when I’m drunk. Just kissing random ponies and all. No hard feelings, right?”

Ouch.

Random people?

That one had hurt. That one had hurt a lot.

“Hehe yeah.” I replied, forcing out a chuckle and putting on a fake-smile, “I-it’s cool. No big deal.”

“So,” she said.

“So,” I less enthusiastically replied.

“Sandwiches?” she asked. I nodded my head making a point not to vocally reply. “Alright!,” she cheated. “Follow me, I know just the spot.”

She took me to a spot underneath one of those lone standing trees they normally plant around the park for just the occasion or simply a place to get out of the sunlight when running around all day. I had also brought the red and white checkered quilt for us to sit on. She was the first one to snatch it away before I could do anything with it leaving me with the food to set up.

As she laid down the blanket I placed the basket over it before taking my seat second. “Alright!” she said as she took her place too. “What kinda sandwiches you got?”

“Uh” I said rubbing my chin as I opened the flap nearest to me. Recaling in my mind I answered, “Peanut butter and jelly, uh, Mozzarella and lettuce sandwich

“Oh, I like those!” she said before opening the basket and tearing into the first one her magic got a hold of.

It was a lettuce sandwich topped with an olive and toothpick for fancy points on my part. Taking the the toothpick she first ate the olive as I found my first sandwich; It was the mozzarella one, sadly without an olive.

“Mrmm, drs’s gurd,” she said with a mouth full of sandwich. “Bet these are store bought, huh?” she joked.

“No, no, I made them,” I answered taking a bite from mine as well. I hadn't quite looked her in the eyes when I said that, more like towards the ground staring dully off into space.

“Well it's really good,” she reassured. “Can tell you actually tried with this. Not like those toasted… things you did last time, right?” she giggled.

“Hehe,” I laughed but it was more of a sigh. “Yea.”

Man if I ever felt like downer it certainly was now. I don’t know why I was just so upset. It could have been with Fresh Coat, but I didn’t want to admit it. I mean I know she was late for about an hour, and that I had dressed up only for her to show up casual, and that she had snuffed out a hug for a hoof bump and that she had said she was drunk when we kissed, and that she had said it was silly and… wait... Was she going to dump me?

Fuuuck, she was. She definitely was! All the signs were there, I couldn’t deny it!

But I did want to deny it, I wanted to think she was being all friendly simply because she was in a good mood or something, I dunno, but she really played every thing off as if we were mutual buddies or something. Again I didn’t know, I wasn’t a dating expert but I was good at picking up on signs and oh was she just a scrap yard littered with them.

These doubts weren’t healthy, I wanted to be cheerful and uplifting as she was but if she was going to just sit me down in the friend zone at least tell me straight up. Don’t beat around the bush don't be all friendsy with me.

Of course I never actually said that, instead I sat there eating my sandwich acting like nothing was out of the ordinary just as she was. I could only internally sulk as I waited for what I knew was going to happen.

“So,” I croaked, trying to start a conversation that would in some way lead to me asking if we were just friends. Yea smooth me, beating just as hard around the bush as she was. Soon it would be nothing but a dirt pillar topped with an untouched, undisturbed shrubbery. “Wha-what have you been doing lately?”

“Oh you know,” she began as she waved a hoof. “This, that and just hanging out in general.”

“Oh.” I replied, feeling my head sink. “Cool.”

‘Sweet Celestia,’ I thought to myself, ‘please, just make it stop. Cause an earthquake, make the sky fall, or just let me die, but please end this misery.’

“Yeah.” Fresh Coat said with a forced smile, apparently not sure how to go on with this conversation either. I looked at her, and felt my throat tighten up. So, this was it, huh? This was the moment where she would ban me into the friendzone forever. Rip my heart out and stomp it to pieces. I could already feel the pain.

In a desperate attempt to brace myself for the impact, I turned my head away from her, trying to ignore the unpleasant silence that was settling between us. However as I did my gaze fell upon a familiar entourage of bucks who were huddled about… looking in our direction. Why though? Did they suspect she was about to dump me? Where they about to laugh it up once she did?

No… They weren't looking at us, they were looking at… at her. At Fresh Coat, and not just her, but a particular feature too. They were looking at her butt!

In an instant, I could feel a familiar feeling of shame form in the back of my throat. I couldn’t really tell why at first. They were staring at her and not me, after all, but despite the fact that they were doing exactly what I had been doing less than a week ago, the idea of ponies staring at my ‘date’ like this made me feel uncomfortable. Not only uncomfortable, I was miffed; I was angry! What were these ponies thinking? How dare they…!

But I cut myself off, shaking my head. Fresh Coat was about to ditch me anyway and remembering that, extroverted as she was, she enjoyed having ponies staring at her assets, she probably didn’t mind the extra attention. Heck, for all I knew she might be playing with them; teasing them and ‘inviting’ them behind my back.

And really, if that was what she wanted, it would have been selfish of me to say something against it.

With a soft sigh, I shook my head again and turned my look away from the group of bucks, looking back at Fresh Coat instead. I could feel another red hot nail being driven through my heart as I saw that she was looking at them too. While there were no traces of that teasing smile she had given me back in my apartment on her face, the mere fact that she was acknowledging their existence and the looks they were giving her was enough to break my heart yet again.

I had to do something; I had to say something! Yes, maybe I couldn’t expect her to completely ignore them, but I’d be damned if I wouldn’t try my best to show her that I wasn’t that boring after all.

“So…” I forced myself to speak up again, my mind reeling and trying to hold on to what could possibly be my last chance. “When did you start painting?” I blurted out, feeling strangely proud of this sudden idea. Painting was, as far as I could tell, one of her favorite things to do and talk about, so this would surely make her forget about these lusty douche bags, right?

“Huh?” she asked, her look darting away from the group of drunk ponies and back to me, “Sorry, I was just…” her look went back to the bucks for a second, then shot back to me, “Nevermind. What’d you say?”

I bit my lip, holding back a cringe. I was losing her to them, wasn’t I?

“I-I was just wondering... “ I stuttered, “About painting … what made you… y’know... start?”

“Oh.” I could feel my heart beat a little faster as I watched her face light up, a smile breaking across her muzzle. “That just … developed over the years.” She gave a soft giggle - I was going to win this battle after all! “I remember filling dozens of pages of my notepad with sketches and comics back in middle school. Then I started attending art classes in High School because I wanted to make a living out of it, but then…” she shrugged, “I dunno.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering how she could have gone from a talented art student to a house painter, but just as I was about to question what ‘I dunno’ meant, I was cut off as one of the bucks from the aforementioned group had gotten up and walked over to us. And as fate willed, it was exactly that prick I had encountered a probably tens of minutes earlier.

The light brown earth pony stopped in front of our blanket and looked at Fresh Coat - the smell of alcohol hit my nose even from a three feet distance. Looking at my date, friend or whatever I should call Fresh Coat now, he gave her a grin that, if he were sober, would have been suggestive, but now just looked plain muddled.

“Hey there, sweetie.” he slurred at her, “Watchu doin’ in a place like this? Want some company?”

Well, this was it. I was done. I had tried, and had failed. I might just as well get up and go home now. He was going to hit on her, she was going to pull the ‘seductive painter’-thing on him, they were going to disappear behind the next best bush possibly with the rest of his entourage, and I was going to be left behind like a beaten, abandoned dog.

Really, it was like High school all over again. After several weeks of fighting with my anxiety, having finally built up the courage to talk to someone, I was in the middle of a struggling conversation with her, then some entitled jock would come along, hit on her, and just like that I would be forgotten again. I used to think that, being out of school for a few years, I had left these situations behind me, but it seemed my past didn’t want to let me go this easily.

Seriously, what had I done to deserve this?

However, to my very surprise, all Fresh Coat did was look at the intoxicated buck with a slightly confused look on her face. Then, after a moment or two, her look went over to me, then back to the buck, and I couldn’t believe my eyes as she slowly shook her head and said, “Uh, no thanks.”

“Come on.” the buck said, putting a hoof on her shoulder, leaning against her, “You don’t need to waste your time with this guy.” He tilted his head in my direction, “I know you want it. You want me too, but I’m sure like...” His voice devolved into a whisper before saying, “...horsecock even more.”

Again, Fresh Coat just shook her head, her voice a little more decisive this time. “No, seriously. Not interested. Screw off.”

I was baffled, my look darting between Fresh Coat and the drunk buck. This was the first time that a situation like this hadn’t ended with me sitting all by myself, and it took my mind a few moments to realize just that.

“Come ooon.” the buck continued his advances undeterred, leaning even further on Fresh Coat and softly caressing her cheek with a hoof.

This time, however, it seemed he had crossed the line. Instantly Fresh Coat raised her hoof and pushed him off and away from her shoulder. “Get off me!” she warned as she got to her hooves and stepped towards my direction.

The buck didn’t seemed pleased. It took him a few moments to regain his balance, but when he finally stood safely on his hooves again, he gave an angry grunt and glowered at Fresh Coat. “Don’t be a bitch!” he growled menacingly.

Finally I managed to break myself free from my stupor, and more instinctively than anything else, I took a step towards the buck just as he was about to come for Fresh Coat again. “Go the hell away!” my mouth shouted, long before my mind could think about it.

I didn’t really know what I was doing. To be honest, I never was one to stand up against bullies like this, partly because I wasn’t exactly a hunk of a pony, partly because many, many excruciating years in middle and high school had taught me that keeping your head low and and accepting your position at the lower end of the food chain meant not having to pull myself out of the trash bin every other afternoon.

“Shut the hell up!” he barked, his attention now focused on me.

If I were back in school, I was sure I would have wet myself by now. This buck wasn’t necessarily a lightweight, and it was clear that I would probably end up in a beating if I didn’t do as he said and shut my mouth.

But not this time. Not today.

I was boiling mad, not only because this buck was a prick, not only because he was advancing on my mare, not only because he called said mare a bitch and told me to STFU and not only because he was invading our time. I was mad because he just soiled my quilt! Granny's quilt!

All that other stuff added up too, but that was the tipping point when he set his dirty, grimy masculin, well kept, beefy, strong hoof on my quilt!

This was it! This was the final straw! Who did he think he was for stepping on my quilt like that!?
I had backed off all my life; I had accepted being the underdog, had always given in so as to not get in trouble, and had let ponies like him push me around all my life.

But not anymore. Now it was time to stand up, not only for Fresh Coat, but also for myself. It was time to declare war on the bullies, to show ponies like this that I wasn’t their personal punching bag, and to fight back! Now was the chance to make up for all these years of being pushed around, and Celestia damn me if I wouldn’t use it!

With spite numbing my fear, adrenaline filling my veins and anger making me feel bigger than I actually was I stepped up to the buck and, more shouting than speaking, growled, “Leave her alone and fuck off!”

“Don’t tell me what to d-” he began, but was cut off when I placed my hoof on his chest to push him away. Though he wasn’t cut off by my sudden force or my intimidating words, he was cut off because by touching him it seemed I had given him an excuse to lash out at my face, which he took full advantage of.

In an instant I was on the ground with one quick swipe of his hoof. I let out a forced groan as my head hit the grass, a stinging pain spreading across my cheek and a coppery warmth running over the inside of my mouth.

As Fresh Coat screeched in terror the buck positioned himself on top of me and, placing a hoof on my chest, effectively pinning me down while he used the other to deliver blow after meat-thawing blow to my face.

“Dumb Bitch, You Done Fucked Up!” he scoffed as he continued to wail on me as I did my best to defend against his attacks, raising my hoofs up, turning my face away which hardly changed anything for me.

“Hey, get off him!” I could hear Fresh Coat pipe up, though her voice sounded distant and blurred to me. Through my hazy and blurred vision I could see her try to step in and try to stop the buck from beating me to pulp. Though he obviously had a lot more mass and power than her, and only with the help of her magic did she manage to pull him off me eventually.

It felt like an eternity, but in all honesty it was only eight seconds. It felt like I was hit hundreds of times but it probably was only sixteen savage blows and before I knew it, he was off running off to his mates who were hooting and hollering as they scampered off before any city officials with cuffs and legal HT could intervene.

Laying on the ground absolutely senseless to anything Fresh Coat fell over me, calling me by name, “Blank Slate! Blank Slate are you okay!?” She wanted to help, I could see it, but she didn’t know what to do and neither did I at the moment.

I was quite literally shit-faced.

Soon another pony had run up to us, another concerned mare. Then a stallion came, as well as a few of the fillies and colts who had been playing - the act that had just taken place had garnered a bit of attention as getting repeatedly pounded on wasn’t exactly a discrete performance. As a few more hurriedly gathered around and one stallion suggested calling the cops to Fresh Coat while a mare asked if she should call an ambulance.

However, as I slowly regained cognitive thought and my thousand mile stare into nothingness receded to just a few inches as I looked Fresh Coat in the eyes there was a collective gasp of relief.

“Blank Slate,” she said, her voice now calming, seeing as I was pushing my way up.

A few of the onlookers tried to ease me back down, but I didn’t want to lie on the ground. I had already been publicly humiliated and even though a kind stallion had folded up my picnic gear and handed it to Fresh Coat while I sat for minutes holding my face I still wanted to get away.

I was bleeding bad, everything hurt. My face had a gash in two places, below my jaw and upon my forehead. My hooves were were becoming equally as bloody as I held my face looking what I guess was like a leaking blood bag.

I coughed, “Fresh…”

“What?” she said, coming to my side with the picnic basket held in her magical grip. “What is it?”

“I-I need t-to go. P-please.”

“He needs a doctor,” a mare suggested.

Fresh Coat wasn’t quite sure what to do. On one hand she could take him to the hospital and they could take care of his wounds and on the other she could walk him halfway across the city back to his apartment and take care of him then. Neither seemed like quite the best alternative since hospitals weren’t exactly cheap and Blank Slate didn’t appear to be made out of money either.

But it was fine, all fine, as she knew a better place that was much closer and cheaper too.

“Comon,” she urged and with the help of another kind stallion Blank Slate was on his very own three legs, one of which was wrapped around Fresh Coat. With a parting thanks to the small crowd that had gathered, some of which who helped, Fresh Coat slowly hobbled Blank Slate out of the park and onto the sidewalk leading down a street, opposite of where Blank had come from.

“Where are we going?” Blank asked as he held his bleeding head up.

“Shhh, quiet.” she kindly ushered as they hobbled along the street. “Just follow me.”

Comments

[The Blessed One]

Magic... Why do Unicorns never use it in defensive reaction? If Blank would have kept calm he would have been fine, but nope, he panicked and turned into a turtle without a shell.

Another great, if brutal installment. I also want you to know that I'm miffed at Blank Slate, not you, MadDonut. I've written for Unicorns too, and I'm forced to write their actions based on their personalities, not what I think would be the best course of action for them. It hurts me to do it sometimes, considering you always want your star characters to be successful, but I applaud you for it.

Still, that whole dang time I was praying that Blank would remember the horn on his head. Turns out Fresh Coat is better under pressure.

[SteakBar]

It's a good thing that I forgot most of chapter 6, 'cause I read it without thinking, when there was only chapters 1 and 6.

[Deadmetal]

I've read this kind of confrontation a thousand times over in non pony and pony related fiction and I'm sure I'll read it plenty more in the future. But it still bothers me to no end how cliche it can be. Almost cringe worthy even. Still though, this chapter was well written none the less.