Chapter 5
You ever, like… wake up those days and it turns out you slept on your foreleg and it’s completely dead and feels like a sack of bricks hanging off your body? Well that was how my face felt except I actually felt every aching sore spot and it hurt like hell.
Coming around wasn’t easy although the stars were pretty, and where I had been led to, well I wasn’t exactly sure as for most of my journey I was half-conscious as I was led down a few streets, up an elevator, down a corridor before passing out on some couch I think. Then again it could have been a pile of cardboard for as well as my body felt.
Where had I come from? Well that much I knew… I think… no I’m sure, it was the sidewalk of St. Getyourasswhooped on the outskirts of Freeasskicks Equestria. Population: assholes.
But let's not beat around the bush any longer, I was in a terrible state. I was bleeding from my face, mouth and probably my ears for all I knew. If it wasn’t for Fresh who knows how long that buck would have pummeled me into oblivion, but where had she taken me?
My vision was a bit fuzzy but I could clearly see the room was completely white. For a brief moment I found my mind suspecting that Fresh Coat had taken me to her place. However, looking at the plain, simple bed I was lying in, and feeling that all too familiar smell of sanitizer and cheap flower bouquets hit my nostrils, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was in a hospital.
That itself was, given what had happened earlier, no real surprise. In fact, I was rather relieved, knowing that, despite me getting thoroughly beaten up, I wouldn’t end up bleeding out on a dirty sidewalk after all. However, that relief was short-lived, as, with my vision clearing, I realized that I was all alone in the sterile-looking room.
Frankly, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I was alive - hurting like hell, but alive. And yet, the absence of a certain beige unicorn mare in my room was something that made me want to shiver all over again.
I mean … not that I was expecting her to stay with me until I woke up, but … she would at least stay near me to fill me in on what had happened, right?
Right?
Slowly, I raised a hoof, wanting to rub my aching head, but flinched back as it touched warm, wet bandages around my head, shortly followed by a stinging pain flaring up on the whole side of my face.
“Ugh…” I groaned, lowering my hoof again and pinching my eyes shut. I could feel a sudden, dull, blind anger coming over me. I wasn’t mad at myself for accidentally causing me such pain, neither was I mad at that asshole who had literally beaten me into the hospital. No, I was just … mad. I just wanted all this to be over! For the pain to stop! I just wanted to go home, and pretend like none of this ever happened. And maybe, on the way I could stop by…
I could feel my heartbeat speed up as my thoughts went back to Fresh Coat again. Seriously, where was she? By all means, she really didn’t seem like the pony to just leave someone in need all by himself.
But hey, maybe she just didn’t want to stay in my room all this time. Maybe the visiting hours were over - Celestia knows what time it was, anyway. Yes, for all I knew she was just sitting in the lobby, maybe even right outside in the hallway, just waiting for me to come out.
A new surge of energy seemed to flow through me at that thought. If she was waiting for me, then I … well, I’d be damned if I’d leave her waiting! She had to know I was fine! Hell, I’d have to thank her for saving my hide like this!
With that resolution in mind, I slowly -very, very slowly and carefully- raised my upper body, and scooted to the side, freeing my legs from underneath the thin blanket and leaving them dangling from the edge of the bed.
Frankly, the mere movement itself hurt like somepony had treated my whole body with a sledgehammer, but the prospect of seeing Fresh Coat again; that relief on her face when she would see that I was fine, it would all be worth it.
Clenching my teeth, trying to brace myself for what was about to come, I tenderly wiggled myself forward until my hooves came in contact with the white linoleum floor, then, pinching my eyes shut, gave myself a shove.
My plan to get back to my hooves had one major flaw in it, though, as my legs apparently weren’t used to carrying my body’s weight anymore. They touched the ground, but gave in within a second, and caused me to topple over, making me faceplant onto the floor. Only by forcing my mouth shut could I hold back a blood-piercing scream.
Red. Glowing. Nails.
Thousands of them were being driven through my face, and only with effort could I keep my eyes from tearing up too much.
Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, I slowly shoved myself back to my hooves, straightened myself up and began limping over to what I had identified as the exit door, stinging pain spread all over the side of my face from my fall.
As I approached the doorframe, I spotted a box of tissues and a small trash can standing ready on a side table, and pulled one out with my magic, giving my now bleeding lip a quick wipe. Celestia knows I already looked battle-scarred enough with my bandages, no need to make it even worse, right?
Satisfied with the result, I lowered the now bloody tissue, and already saw myself walking out of here and right into Fresh Coat’s arms as I was about to toss the used tissue.
However, I hesitated as I spotted something lying in the trash can. Knowing that these were normally emptied after every patient, I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity awoken.
The crumpled-up piece of paper looked like it had been taken from a notepad. Levitating it closer to my face and straightening it out, I saw that there was what looked like a message written in a very familiar handwriting.
Dear Blank Slate
I don’t know how much you remember of what happened, but after you fell unconscious in the park, I brought you here. I made sure they took care of you, and your room is paid for until tomorrow morning.
I’m sorry I’m not here with you, I...
The next parts were all crossed out, and barely legible.
I just don’t know how to feel about all th
You remind me of an old friend who hurt me very badly and
I love y
I’m sorry. I just can’t do this. I think it’d be better if we don’t see each other for a while.
I’m sorry.
Goodbye.
-Fresh Coat
I had to read that last part a couple of times to fully understand just what was written there.
As my mind finally started to compute, and the true nature of what I was holding in my magic started to come crashing down on me, I could feel myself sink to my haunches.
So … this was it? This was how it all ended? A letter!? A damn letter!?
I could feel my throat getting tight, my emotions going back and forth between shock, frustration and plain and simple sadness.
Drawing in a long breath, I closed my eyes as the painful yet oh so obvious clarity became clear to me once again.
She had dumped me.
Fresh Coat had dumped me.
Just like that.
With a long, drawn-out, and utterly devastated sigh, I sank back, landing on my back with my head colliding with the ground.
That, as my stricken body was quick to remind me, had been a mistake, as an all new wave of pain shot through my head and upper body.
However, with my gaze going back to the note lying on the ground next to me, presenting me its heart-wrenching message as if to taunt me, I swear the pain in my head and body was almost drowned out by the piercing agony in my heart.
A few … hours, days, whatever, later, I was back in the place where it had all begun. Well, not exactly. The place where things had gotten serious was more like it.
I was back in the diner where Fresh Coat and me had had our first get-together a few … what was it, days ago? A week, maybe?
In any case, it was morning, a fair bit of time after I had first run into Fresh Coat.
I still couldn’t help but to shiver as I thought of what lay behind me. From the moment I first lay eye on Fresh Coat, to her trying to seduce me, the lovely evening we had spent together, to the day we had shared in this very place, getting drunk off our faces together, me bringing her to my place, our “date” in the park and … I closed my eyes, trying to straighten out my thoughts. It was all just one massive blur from there on.
After being released from the hospital a few hours after finding Fresh Coat’s utterly devastating note, facing a lack of alternatives, I had gone back home.
And there, after a night spent laying on my bed, drowning in my own misery, I had started thinking.
In short, the one, most important question on my mind was where I had gone wrong. Obviously, the fact that I was here, without a beige unicorn mare by my side, was proof enough that I had gone wrong somewhere, and I needed to know where.
Not necessarily because I was hoping to get Fresh Coat back like this. For all I knew -and cared in my tear-soaked state of mind- she was gone. Out of my life, for better or worse. Of course, saying that I was sad about that would have been an understatement, but accepting that there were things in this world one simply could not change was something I had learned early on in my life.
However, I was convinced that figuring out what exactly had gone wrong with Fresh Coat and me, and that had led to me sitting here all by myself, would prevent just that from happening again in the future, and save me from this heartbroken state should I ever be lucky enough to get into another relationship.
So I had started retracing everything that had happened during the time I had known her. Step by step, I had gone through every interaction I had had with her on that first evening, trying to find any clues as to why she wouldn’t want to be with me anymore.
Of course, the fact that I had dismissed her proposal for sex would have been the obvious choice, but the fact that she had stayed with me the whole evening and even agreed to meet again afterwards managed to convince me that this was not the reason why she had left me now.
Having re-envisioned the whole evening at least two or three times and still coming up empty-hoofed, I found myself with two options: either stop there, accept my defeat and simply give up, or proceed with my efforts to figure out what had gone wrong.
True, I might just be wasting my time, ending up with the realization that it was Fresh Coat’s and not my fault, but … well, here I was.
I gave a soft sigh as I raised my head, looking up from the lonely, miserable-looking cup of coffee in front of me -which, to my very shame, reminded me of none other than myself- and out the window next to me.
And once again, I could feel the burning fire of pain in my heart kindle just a little brighter as I felt a part of my mind wishing to see a beige unicorn mare in a fancy black dress coming walking down the street.
… And I swear it grew into a damned bonfire as I was once again reminded that she wouldn’t come - that she would never come, ever again.
Ironically, I again had to think back to what my grandpa had told me all those years ago. “Watch out,” he had said, “Mares are a dangerous pastime for the worst part. Let down your guard one second, and they’ll hurt you - like a knife through flesh.”
I shivered. Celestia knows I’d gladly cut my hoof a hundred times if it would get me back together with Fresh Coat.
I heard myself giving a deeper, longer sigh as I looked away from the window again, instead directing my gaze back to the coffee in front of me, only for it to be dragged back up again as I heard someone coming walking towards me and stopping in front of my table.
I felt my head wanting to shoot upward, a pathetic little part of my mind still clinging to the hope that it was Fresh Coat coming back to me thanks to whatever divine intervention.
However, looking up revealed the pony to be not Fresh Coat, but the waitress who probably wanted to check for any further orders.
And looking up at the cream-colored earth pony mare, I noticed that I recognized her. … Cinnamon, if I remembered correctly.
And to my very shame, she recognized me too.
“Well, would you look at that?” she asked, that very same shit-eating grin back on her face again. “Welcome back, Romeo. Where’d you leave your Juliet?”
I closed my eyes, turning my head away.
Please … just .... just stop.
“I see…” Cinnamon said with an understanding nod, “Dumped you, huh?” she comfortingly patted my shoulder, “Sorry kid. Shoulda told you she’s not one for anything long-term.”
Still not looking up, I slowly nodded my head. No shit.
“Here, tell you what...” the waitress offered in a reconciling tone, stepping away from me, only to return a few moments later with a plate which she placed on the table in front of me. Looking up just enough to see the plate, I identified it to be filled with a pile of waffles. Delicious, crispy, mouth-watering waffles.
“This one’s on the house.” Cinnamon said softly, giving me another pat on the shoulder before turning away. “You’ll get over her, trust me.”
I gave a slow, hesitant nod, more to myself than to her, before my look fell onto the plate in front of me, and I noticed my mouth begin to water. As my horn lit up and my magic picked up a fork from next to me, I could feel a smile form on my face as new hope kindled in my heart.
Cinnamon was right.
I would get over her.
Or, well, maybe I wouldn’t.
Morning had given way to noon, and noon had given way to late afternoon.
And I was still sitting in the diner, still staring into that very same cup of coffee.
Mother of Celestia, I hated coffee.
I had spent the whole day revising our stay here, looking for any clues that could have caused Fresh Coat to lose interest in me … but mostly just sitting here and feeling depressed.
Of course, the idea had crossed my mind once that I wouldn’t find the answer in here and should press on. However, it occurred to me only then that I didn’t remember where we had gone next. We had visited that beach-style bar - that I could remember, but frankly, I had absolutely no idea where that place was. Manehattan was a huge city, and all I could remember was that we had been walking for a while before settling down.
Celestia knows it could take days of coming through the city, trying to find the bar, and even that wouldn’t guarantee any success.
So, basically, I had no idea what to do or where to go next.
And to add insult to injury, it was in just this moment that Cinnamon came walking over to my table, saying the absolute last thing I wanted to hear in this second.
“Sorry honey, but I’m closing down. Hate to kick you out like this, but you can’t stay here.”
I gave a long, heavy sigh, letting my head sink, my gaze falling back onto the cup of cold coffee in front of me.
I really, really hated coffee.
“Come on now.” Cinnamon said, placing a hoof on the table in front of me, “I know it hurts, but it’s gonna go by. Trust me, I’ve been there, way more often than I’d care to admit.”
“Mhmm…” I muttered to myself, barely even listening. Yes, I knew that it’d go by, and yes, I knew that I’d been through worse, but in all seriousness, that didn’t make it any more bearable.
“Look...” Cinnamon began, lowering herself onto the bench opposite to me, “I’m sorry she’s dumped you, and I know you’re gonna hate me for saying that, but you could have seen it coming.”
I looked up at her, frowning. Well, at least I hoped I was frowning. It was hard to tell with my face still half-covered with band-aid.
“I’m serious.” The mature mare insisted, “She’s never been one to get into any long-term commitments.” she paused, doing a double take, “Well, not after that thing with her fiancé, anyway.”
“What!? Fiancé!?” I asked, looking up, my eyes widening - which was promptly rewarded with a stinging pain in the side of my face. Flinching and touching the hurting spot with a hoof, I tried again. “A-are you serious?”
“Damn kid…” Cinnamon replied, leaning forward and looking at my blessures, “Whatever happened to you?”
“...long story.” I replied numbly, shaking my aching head. “What was that part about Fresh Coat getting married?”
Despite the sorry sight that I was, Cinnamon couldn’t contain a chuckle. “No, no. She was gonna get married a few months back, but…” she cut herself off, shaking her head and eyeing me with an unbelieving glance, “So she’s never told you?”
I silently shook my head, looking at her like a deer in the headlights.
“Huh.” Cinnamon said, shaking her head, “That mare, I’m telling you.”
“So she’s … not engaged?” I sputtered out. That question in itself sounded all levels of wrong, talking about Fresh Coat of all ponies.
“Nope.” the waitress declared, shaking her head. “She was with that stallion last year.” a heartfelt smile formed on her face, “Lovely couple, really. She was all over him. Wouldn’t leave his side when she was with him, wouldn’t stop talking about him when she wasn’t. Seriously, I’ve known her all her life, but I’ve never seen her so in love.”
“...Oh.” I said, feeling the pain in my heart well up again at the thought of Fresh Coat having these sorts of feelings for somepony other than … well, other than me.
“That is…” Cinnamon continued, her smile vanishing, “Until the day they were going to get married … and he left her standing in front of the altar.”
“...Oh.” I repeated myself, feeling my own heart sink out of sheer compassion.
“Yeah.” she replied, nodding her head, “I’ve been on this planet for forty-six years now, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as heartbroken as that poor mare. She was completely out of it for a couple of days, wouldn’t let anyone near her.” she paused, taking in a breath, but then her face lit up. “But when she came back, and I was expecting her to have given up on stallions altogether, she had … well…” she gave a short shrug, “Changed.”
I nodded understandingly. Going from floating on cloud nine to bed-hopping without a care in the world was one change indeed.
But all the same, I could feel my head sink as the harsh reality became clear to me again: none of this mattered now. Because she was gone. And I wouldn’t see her, ever again.
“Come on now, don’t be so gloomy.” Cinnamon encouraged me. “Life gets hard sometimes. You just gotta learn to deal with it.”
I sighed again. So we were back to empty motivational quotes. Maybe I should just head home instead.
“Look…” she proposed, but hesitated, making me look up at her. She looked … nervous? “If it helps you feel better, how about you…” Again, she hesitated, closing her eyes and taking in a long breath before continuing, “Treat me to dinner?”
“...What!?” I blurted out, my eyes widening.
“Hey, it’s just a suggestion.” Cinnamon defended herself, shrugging, “You don’t have to, but hanging out with…” again, she shrugged, “Somepony else might help you getting your mind off Fresh Coat, and make you feel better.” she looked back up, focusing me now, “So, what do you say?”
“I … uh…” I stuttered dumbfounded, but then got a hold of myself and gave a quick nod, “Sure, why not?”
To be honest, I hadn’t fully internalized what I had just agreed to, and wouldn’t do until a few hours later, but at least in this second, I was proud of myself. I had seen an opportunity, and had seized it.
And in my defense, I had no way of knowing what fatal consequences this decision would entail.
However, at least in this second, I could feel pleasant relief wash over me as I watched Cinnamon crack the thinnest of smiles and say, “Alright then. Meet me here at the diner in two hours.”
And with that, she got off the bench, and walked over to the diner’s exit door, cocking her head into the direction of the street. “Come on, diner’s closed.”
Exactly one hour and fifty minutes later, I was standing in front of the diner again, feeling … weird.
Really, there was no better way to describe it.
I had met a cute, attractive mare, had started falling for her, had almost hooked up with her, she had left me, I was heartbroken, and … now I was on a date with a friend of hers?
I … couldn’t quite believe it myself.
Then again, for all I knew this wasn’t a legit date. Cinnamon had just seen me wallowing in my own misery, and had -out of sheer pity- suggested to spend the evening with me. A friendly gesture? Yes. A date? No.
Keeping that resolution in mind, I looked up to see Cinnamon coming walking down the street - and promptly watched said resolution go down in flames.
Walking towards me was not the friendly but -in lack of a better term- worn-looking mare I had seen in the diner.
No, coming my direction was a gracious, confident mature mare, radiating with self-esteem.
Contrary to Fresh Coat -or me, for that matter- she wasn’t wearing any fancy clothing. Her now undone dark blonde mane, as well as a plain, simple necklace was all that indicated that she wasn’t at work anymore.
And still, I could feel my heart getting just a little weightless at the thought of the two of us going on a … a date.
“Hey, sweetheart.” she said dryly as she stopped next to me, the corners of her mouth twitching upward for just a second, “You good to go?”
“Uh, yeah.” I forced out, then cleared my throat, adjusting the tie around my neck. Seeing how the shirt I had worn for my date with Fresh Coat was stained with blood and dirt and had now found its resting spot in my trash bin, the plain black tie from my graduation day was the only form of non-casual clothing I had left. And still, I felt reminded to a few days ago, as now, just like then, I felt horribly overdressed.
“Uh … where should we go?” I asked awkwardly, my look wandering around, “I remember there was a pretty nice bar here where we could-”
“A bar?” Cinnamon cut me off, a slightly amused grin on her face, “Sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but if you haven’t already noticed, I’m not in my twenties anymore. No offense, but you won’t see me set hoof into a bar anymore. … Not that kind where you would go, anyway.”
“Oookay.” I said hesitantly, giving a curt nod. She did have a point there. “So, where would you like to go instead?”
Cinnamon cracked another one of those signature grins at me. “Never properly taken a lady out, huh?” she chuckled shortly, turning around and motioning me to come with her, “Follow me, Romeo, I’ll show you how adults go on a date.”
Like thunderstruck, I looked at her in silence for a moment, letting her words sink in. Then, realizing that she had already gotten under way, forced out a quick, “Uh, alright!” and trotted after her.
This was going to be interesting.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in what felt like a very, very fancy restaurant. In retrospect, it was just an average middle-class place, but to my measly budget, this place felt like a three-star restaurant, and I was half-expecting my dinner to be served by Chef Gordon Ram-say himself.
And sitting opposite to me at a small table for two was the only mare that had managed to confuse me almost as much as Fresh Coat.
Cinnamon.
I kept my eyes pinned on her, watching her study the menu with an experienced look, but lowered my glance as hers drifted upward, instead looking back at my own menu.
I bit my lip. Having grown up in a small village, being raised in … modest circumstances, I could count the times I had dined out in my life on my four hooves. And seeing how, even after moving to Manehattan, my diet had consisted mostly of frozen pizza and canned food, I wasn’t necessarily an expert when it comes to dining-etiquette.
Pinching my eyes shut, I tried to decipher what was written in this ridiculously squiggly font, only to realize that it was the price list.
I could feel my face turn pale.
Again, this was but a middle-class restaurant we were in, but seeing how I spent an average of around three bits on food per day -convenience food was, thank Celestia, dirt cheap, even in Manehattan- anything that went beyond that was off limits for me.
But I couldn’t just say that I can’t afford eating here, right? Cinnamon was expecting me to invite her! Now how was I going to pay for all this?
My look went to the ceiling, my mind running the numbers. If I would get a part-time job, eat only oat flakes and ketchup-rice for the next two months, and nicely flutter my eyes at that one waiter, maybe I could-
“Pricy, huh?” Cinnamon asked, interrupting my thoughts and making me look back at her with my eyes wide. “Don’t worry, tonight’s gonna be on me.”
“W-what!?” I piped up, shaking my head, “N-no. No, that won’t be necessary. No worries, I have it all-”
“Shut up.” Cinnamon cut me off softly, but with emphasis.
“But-” I wanted to protest.
“Nope.” she insisted, shaking her head. “Now go pick what you want to eat, and let me handle this.”
Giving a defeated, but at the same time relieved sigh, I lowered my head, looking down at the menu, my mind by force of habit muttering a soft, “Yes, mom.”
Even as my mouth spoke the familiar phrase, I could already feel my face turning red. That had been an accident! I … She … She wasn’t like my mom! Not … not at all!
To my very relief, Cinnamon just chuckled lightly. “Right back at ya, sweetie.” she retorted dryly, not even looking up from her menu. “I know I’m old enough to be your mom, but don’t make this weird, will you?”
“Y-yes. Yes, of course.” I managed to bring out, managing to focus my attention back on the menu.
The next couple of minutes dragged on in that kind of awkward silence I had experienced with Fresh Coat not too long ago. Only that now we were facing legitimate silence - no polite conversation, no short laughs, nothing.
I found myself struggling; fighting to come up with something, anything to start up a conversation, but was surprised as Cinnamon beat me to it. Clearing her throat, sitting up on her chair and putting down the menu, she focused me with her hazel eyes - a look that already seemed a fair bit … softer than anything I had received from her thus far.
“Alright, let’s not let this get too awkward, shall we?” she began, half-jokingly, “The name’s Cinnamon Swirl, but everyone just calls me Cinnamon. Forty-six years old, born and raised in Manehattan. Divorced twice, began working at the diner at age sixteen and sorta just stuck there with the years passing by.” she paused for a second, “Now…” she focused me, cracking a thin smile, “Your turn!”
“Uh…” I stuttered dumbfounded for a few seconds, not ready to deal with this much information at once. Then, however, I managed to clear my mind, shook my head and tried introducing myself as non-awkwardly as possible.
“Well, my name is Blank Slate.” I began hesitantly, “I’m, uh, twenty-four years old. Born and raised in a small village way down south, moved to Manehattan about two weeks ago. I, uh…” I found myself hesitating, my mind bringing out the images of what had happened with Fresh Coat after I had mentioned my profession, “I’m an architect - sorta.”
“Mhmm.” Cinnamon replied briefly, nodding her head. “Interesting.”
Wait … this was it? No excitement about me being a designer of buildings? No rant about how hard and unforgiving Manehattan is? No … kiss?
I could feel a sheepish grin form on my face at the memory, only for it to vanish in the second I realized that Fresh Coat was still, by all means, gone.
But I shook my head. I was on a date, for crying out loud! Granted, it was more of a sympathy date, but a date nonetheless, and I wouldn’t let petty things like a broken heart ruin this for me!
No, this whole Fresh Coat-thing was getting out of hand anyway. She had dumped me, she was gone - end of story! If I ever wanted to get into a new relationship, I had to get her off my mind once and for all. No point in having things from the past drag me down all the time!
I closed my eyes, picturing myself putting all those Fresh Coat-thoughts and phantasies into a box and throwing them off a cliff. Out of sight, out of mind - quite literally.
And even though I could barely believe it myself, it seemed to work. I was feeling truly relieved.
Feeling a relaxed smile form on my face now that the beige unicorn mare was finally off my mind for good, I leaned back on my chair, just in time for one of the waiters to stop by our table and take our orders. I turned my head towards the mare and-
“Yeaaargh!” I wanted to scream, only forcing my mouth shut in the nick of time so as to not make a scene in this fancy-feeling place.
Standing in front of me in a white button-up shirt with a black tie … was Fresh Coat!
“Good evening, ma’am, and sir. Are you ready to order yet?” she asked us with a polite smile.
This … this couldn’t be! Was she following me!? Was … was I going crazy? Was I starting to lose my mind?
I mean … that was Fresh Coat standing there, no doubt. The color of her fur, despite being only sparsely lightened by the restaurant’s ceiling lights, was spot-on; the color of her eyes, the way she had her mane done in a big bun...
“Hey Silver. Long time no see!” Cinnamon greeted the unicorn mare with a casual smile, causing her to do a double take on the mature mare.
“Wait. Cinnamon?” her face lit up noticeably, “Oh wow, it really is you! It’s been a while! How have things been?” Her look darted over to me, and she managed to produce one of those shit-eating grins that I had seen on Cinnamon so many times, and that apparently only waitresses were capable of. “I see you got company. On the prowl for youngsters now, huh?”
Despite my confusion, I couldn’t help but to feel my face turn red at that. A toy-colt for a mature mare was definitely not what I wanted to be seen as.
“Oh, no.” Cinnamon replied with a light chuckle, “That’s just Blank Slate. He is- … used to be with Fresh Coat. She dumped him, so we’re trying to get his thoughts off her.”
“Mhmm, I see…” The mare apparently named Silver nodded her head, giving me a compassionate look, but then lightened up and offered me her hoof. “My name’s Silver Platter, Fresh Coat’s my cousin. Nice to meetcha.”
“...oh.” I said, finally starting to understand, and shook the mare’s hoof. That … explained quite a lot.
“Yeah, ponies often say we look kind of alike.” Silver Platter explained a bit sheepishly, “Sorry if I freaked you out there. Anyway…” She swiftly continued, pulling a ballpen and a notepad from her shirt’s chest pocket.
Now that her magic was actually illuminating her face, it became clear to me that, while she looked like a relative, Silver Platter didn’t look like an exact copy of Fresh Coat. Her coat was a good bit lighter than that of the painter, almost reaching white-levels, while her mane was a deep,dark brown instead of the dark gray Fresh Coat had. The most noticeable difference, however, were her eyes, which were a light green contrary to her cousin’s deep magenta irises.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the insalata caprese with pesto verde, parmigiana alla melanzana, and the pignolata with some bruttiboni on the side.” Cinnamon placed her order nonchalantly, churning out those fancy terms like if it was nothing.
At my wide-eyed gaze, she just shrugged innocently and smiled. “What? I have a passion for food. What do you think made me want to work at a diner?”
“She just likes to show off.” Silver chimed in teasingly, directing her attention towards me as she a bit sheepishly admitted, “Can’t really blame her though. I’m a bit of an art nut myself, and it’s nice living your passion every now and then.”
But she shook her head, clearing her thoughts as her tone became a little more casual and she asked me, “Now, what can I getcha?”
That caused me to bristle again. Hell, she also sounded exactly like Fresh Coat when she was talking like this!
“Sorry.” she apologized a bit sheepishly, then cleared her throat and straightened herself up, trying a bit more of a professional approach. “What will it be for you, sir?”
Slightly embarrassed, but nonetheless glad that it didn’t feel like I was talking to a fancy-fied Fresh Coat anymore, I took a closer look at the menu.
“I’ll take the…” I hesitated. Blame it on the fact that I was on a would-be date, and had a doppelganger of what basically counted as my ex-marefriend standing in front of me, but I wanted to impress them … with my absolutely non-existent Italian-skills. “I’ll have the … supa dee poromorodori, please.” I slammed the menu shut, an unreasonably complacent grin on my face.
“Tomato soup, alright.” Silver Platter said, a little bluntly, and picked up our menus. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
With that, the Fresh Coat-lookalike walked away, leaving me and Cinnamon Swirl behind.
“Just soup? Are you sure?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m not really hungry.”
That … actually wasn’t entirely true. I was fairly hungry, having eaten nothing but Cinnamon’s sympathy-platter of waffles all day long. However, as much as I hated to say it, I technically really couldn’t afford eating here, and even with Cinnamon’s proposal to pay the bill, I didn’t feel comfortable stuffing myself at her expense.
“Alright.” she said with a brief shrug, “Your call.”
Focusing me, she picked up the half-filled wine-glass one of the waiters had brought us a few minutes ago, and raised it into my direction.
Getting the hint, I picked mine up as well, ready to click glasses with her.
“Here’s to you.” she said with a gentle smile, “Let’s see where this goes, shall we?”
“Sure.” I replied, finding it surprisingly easy to return the smile, and let our glasses collide with a soft clink.
Roughly at the same time, at the other end of the city, a beige unicorn mare was standing in a big, slightly shady apartment building in front of a closed door, her restless look focused on the doorbell next to it. How much time had passed since she had first pressed it? Ten seconds? Thirty? A minute?
Why wasn’t he answering?
Should she ring again? She didn’t want to be pushy, but perhaps he just hadn’t heard the bell the first time. … But he had opened the door within seconds when she had been here for the first time!
Biting her lip and feeling her heart rate increase gradually, Fresh Coat raised a hoof, pressing the button of the doorbell a second time, this time clearly hearing the telltale bell echoing through the apartment on the other side of the door.
She remained absolutely silent for a few moments, perking up her ears to hear any steps coming towards the door.
Nothing.
Feeling her ears fold back, she bit her lip, her mind being all too quick in searching for reasons as to why he wasn’t answering the door.
Why … why wasn’t he home? Hell, it was Tuesday night, not even ten o’clock, why wasn’t he home!?
She could feel herself getting more and more restless as her thoughts continued to race. Was he … maybe … asleep?
She cocked an eyebrow at that. It really wasn’t that late yet. Besides, even if he were asleep, he would have probably heard the doorbell, right?
For a brief moment she wondered if he actually knew that it was her standing in front of his door and didn’t react because of that, but she quickly discarded that thought - she hadn’t talked to him for days, and he had no way of knowing that she was here right now.
However, that left only one logical conclusion: he was out. And try as she might, she couldn’t shake the thought that he was … out. With somepony else.
Why precisely she didn’t know. It was a thought; a hunch at best.
But all the same, it made her feel uncomfortable, prompting the inevitable question if she had already lost him.
Truth be told, ever since that whole affair a few nights ago where the two had gotten hopelessly drunk; where she had kissed him, and come with him to wake up in his apartment, she had never been quite certain about her own feelings.
Well, not exactly. She knew all too well what she felt for Blank Slate, the problem merely was that she didn’t want to have it true.
Because, no matter what, the chances of her getting hurt seemed higher than ever.
This was the reason why she had decided against her original plan to take the injured Blank Slate to her place after their encounter in the park a few days ago, and had instead sacrificed her savings to bring him to a hospital.
She … just hadn’t been able to stand it anymore. Seeing Blank Slate lying there; hurt, battered, barely recognizable with his face covered in bloodied bandages … it had broken her heart.
And that realization was what had set off all the alarm bells in her head. If him taking a stand for her and getting beaten up could cause such emotions within her, she didn’t dare imagine what could happen if … if he would ever … leave her.
So she had decided to call a halt before it was too late, leaving him to wake up alone -again- but this time without the prospect of doing something as friends. Because really, this whole ‘just friends’-things wasn’t working - at least something she knew for certain. Their get-together in the park had proven to her all too clearly that the two could either be together as … more than friends, nor not together at all.
And in fear of getting hurt again, she had decided for the latter option. That is, she had tried to. But ultimately hadn’t gotten herself to let him go entirely, instead asking him for some time to come to terms with her own feelings.
An announcement she had meant, really. She had known that she would get back to him eventually once she had a clear idea of what she wanted - and as fate willed, she had come to a conclusion just a few hours ago.
She had decided for him.
She knew that relationships could cause a great deal of pain, but at the same time also recalled all the great moments she had had with … with him.
And who was to say that things wouldn’t go a different way with Blank Slate? Yes, she knew that there was a chance that he would hurt her, just like he had, and by Celestia, she didn’t know if she would survive a second time, but … what if he wouldn’t?
What if, after she had explained her feelings to him, he would confess his love for her as well, the two would get married with Cinnamon as her maid of honor, they would have a dozen foals and live happily ever after?
Yes, it was an exaggerated phantasy, but who in Equestria said that relationships always had to end badly? Heck, if she didn’t give it a shot she would never know if maybe, despite everything, Blank Slate was the lid for her pot? Maybe the two really were soulmates; destined to be with each other for all eternity.
Really, who could tell that for certain?
Well … she sure couldn’t.
Letting out a sigh and letting her head sink, Fresh Coat finally looked away from the doorbell, accepting the fact that Blank Slate wasn’t home.
...And promptly fighting down the voice in her head that suggested that he was out seeing another mare.
Really, this was just ridiculous. It had been two days since their encounter in the park, what reason would he have to be dating someone in the middle of whatever chaotic state their relationship was in right now?
Shaking her head, Fresh Coat took a step back from the door. This was just getting ridiculous.
But still, she couldn’t help but to wonder … where was he? Could he be visiting his family? Out with friends? Or just out there doing … architect-stuff?
But what was she going to do? Even she knew that waiting here all night for him to return would come off as more than just a little creepy, but … she couldn’t wait till tomorrow!
She had decided in favor of him! She had finally overcome her own demons and opened herself to a new relationship! This wasn’t just some average everyday decision! It was something drastic! Something game changing! And she needed to tell him! Not tomorrow, not later, but right now!
But how?
She could feel teeth clench in frustration as she was once again reminded that she had no idea where to find him.
But she couldn’t handle the suspense! She needed to know how he would react! She wanted to hear him say that he liked her … that he loved her even!
But … how!?
Pinching her eyes shut, Fresh Coat rubbed the side of her head, muttering a curse under her breath, then shook her head.
This was all too much. She needed to talk this through again. She needed to get those thoughts out, if not to Blank Slate then to anypony else.
… And she knew exactly who she could talk to!
Feeling a new smile form on her face as her frustration began to vanish, Fresh Coat straightened herself up again. She let her gaze linger on the door for another moment or two, but then turned around and headed back down the stairs again.
Yes, she was going to meet up with her, and get those thoughts out of her mind.
Feeling her grin widen ever so slightly as those worries seemed to slip off her back, Fresh Coat reached the house’s entrance door, and passed through it, stepping out into the nightly air.
Yes, Cinnamon would understand.
Some time later, I was in … a bit of a strange position. In more than one regard.
I was on Cinnamon’s couch.
And she was spooning me.
I mean … what?
Granted, I didn’t mind in the slightest in this moment. We had shared a truly pleasant evening in the restaurant, talking about ourselves, about our lives and their greater meaning … an interesting talk, really.
I had found out that, besides cooking, which she had implied earlier, Cinnamon also had a passion for gardening. She even had a small roof-garden where she grew her own ingredients for her cooking-ventures. She had told me a bit about her past partners, about how she shared Fresh Coat’s opinion that being single was a truly pleasant state, and that she wasn’t looking for a relationship as well.
So, all things considered, it had seemed like she was still just seeing this as a pity-date.
So how had I ended up snuggling up against her like I did now?
Well, for one both of us had had our fair share of wine. While I was far from a connoisseur, even I could tell that the restaurant had quite a decent variety of wines, and I blame it on her passion for cooking and flavors in general that Cinnamon had made me try the majority of wines on the menu.
The topic of our talk had changed after a few glasses. I had told her about my experiences with Fresh Coat, beginning with our date in the park, me getting beaten up, our trainwreck of a date the day before, and of course, last of all, the day that had started it all, and how I had decidedly not slept with her that night - a statement that gained yet another shit-eating grin from my entourage.
Granted, that still doesn’t explain why I had agreed to coming back to her place, let alone joining her on her -extremely comfy- sofa, but hey, after spending so much time talking about Fresh Coat, I had been starting to feel lonely.
And as odd as it may sound … and it could have very well been due to my higher-than-average alcohol level, but I may or may not have started to see something in Cinnamon Swirl - in spite of her being almost twice my age.
So yeah, that happened. We were … snuggling. On her couch. I was the small spoon.
And Celestia damn me if I didn’t enjoy every second of it.
I really couldn’t quite explain it. I hadn’t really known Cinnamon for too long by then, and even then she had always seemed like the brusque-but-lovely aunt type of mare. However, during the course of the evening -and I’m not saying that alcohol didn’t play a role here- a certain part of my mind couldn’t help but … like her. In a very specific type of way.
It might have been caused by the utter lack of contact with mares during the past months, but lying here, feeling her chest against my back, her heartbeat against my spine, and her long mane against the back of my head … it filled me with a secureness I hadn’t felt for years.
Was this weird? Probably. Wrong? All sorts of.
Could this be turning into a mother-complex on my side? Possibly.
Did I give even the slightest amount of shits in this moment? Not. Even. One.
Letting out a content sigh, I lowered my head, rubbing it against her mane lying underneath me. It smelled of vanilla.
“Y’know…” I said, but it probably was more of a slur in my stage, “I never thought I’d enjoy something like this.”
I could hear her smirk, her soft breath hitting my ear and making it twitch.
“‘S what they all say. Momma knows her craft.” she gave a short laugh, then her voice became serious again. That is, as serious as she could get, seeing how she was fairly intoxicated as well, “Never been with someone as young as you though.”
Now it was my turn to smirk. “There’s a first time for everything, huh?”
She giggled softly, sending shivers down my spine. “Ayep.” she leaned forward, grabbing my ear with her mouth and softly nibbling on it, “I don’t really mind though.”
At the contact, I let out a deep sigh, feeling my body relax and letting my eyes drift shut. This was … so great. I finally had somepony by my side. Granted, it wasn’t Fresh Coat, and even in my drunken state I couldn’t deny that I’d still prefer having her nibble on my ear, but … hey, you can’t have ‘em all, right?
Feeling a smile form on my face as bliss washed over me, I could feel a pleasant shudder run through my body.
Forget Fresh Coat, I had Cinnamon now.
To my very disillusionment, though, it was in this moment that a knock came from the entrance door of Cinnamon’s apartment.
Hearing -and feeling- the mare behind me give an annoyed sigh as she stopped the nibbling on my ear, I decided to be a gentlecolt today and, muttering a curt, “Don’t worry, I got it.” freed myself from her grip and arose from the sofa, slowly making my way into her hallway.
“Who could that be?” I could hear the intoxicated mare behind me muse, “Lil’ late for mail, isn’t it?”
“Hmm..:” I muttered back, finally stopping in front of the door and putting my hoof on the handle. Securing my stand -hey, standing on only three hooves is hard when you’re a little tipsy!- I pushed the handle down, and opened the door.
My eyes widened.
“Silver Platter!” I wanted to shout with delight as I saw the unicorn mare standing in front of me.
Blame it on my intoxicated mind, but it took me way longer than what would have been appropriate to realize that the pony in front of the door, while sharing a fair bit of attributes with the waitress, was indeed not Silver Platter.
But even then, I hadn’t quite understood the severity of the situation, as my drunken mouth swiftly carried on, “I mean … Fresh Coat! Watchu doing here, girl? I ain’t seen you in ages!”
Apparently it also took the mare in front of me a few moments to realize just who was standing in front of her, smelling like a whole wine cellar. But to be fair, I was fairly sure this could not be blamed on her drinking too much -she was quite obviously sober- but on the sheer surprise she saw herself faced with in this second.
“...Blank!?” she asked, gawking at me like a deer in the headlights. It was by then that I noticed her red eyes, and the dark rings underneath them. Either she hadn’t slept too much recently, or cried a lot - maybe both. “What … what in Equestria are you doing here!?”
“Fresh Coat?” I could feel my ear twitch as the voice came from behind me, revealing that Cinnamon had also made her way to the front door. She, however, was a little quicker in catching up, as her look went from Fresh Coat, to me, before she lowered and shook her head, muttering a weak “Oh Celestia.”
“What are you-” Fresh Coat wanted to ask, but cut herself off as she, too, was starting to understand just what was going on here. “Oh no.” she muttered breathlessly, her unbelieving stare darting from me to Cinnamon and back, “Oh no you didn’t.” Gradually, the confusion on her face started to vanish, making way for an emotion I had never quite seen on Fresh Coat: anger. “Oh no you didn’t.” she repeated herself, her features hardening with every second, “Oh no you fucking didn’t!”
“Look Fresh,” Cinnamon started an attempt of explanation, but was cut short, “It’s not what it-”
“You shut your filthy whore mouth!”
Even in my intoxicated state, I could feel my jaw drop as I watched Fresh Coat take a threatening step towards the waitress, her still red eyes now torn wide open in pure rage, “I can’t believe it! Here I am, spending the last two days trying to figure out my own feelings, coming to you for advice…” she pointed a hoof at Cinnamon, “And what do you do!? You’re dating him behind my back!? Are you kidding me!?”
At that, Cinnamon just took a step backward, swallowing.
“And you!” Fresh Coat turned towards me, the fury of a thousand suns burning in her eyes, “Who do you think you are, huh? Pretending to be all heartfelt and deep and shit, just to cheat on me with my friend the second I turn my back on you!?”
“You … you dumped me.” I defended myself weakly. I was going to go on about how I had spent the past two days being devastated about just that, but frankly just didn’t have the power, neither did Fresh Coat give me a chance to do so in her tirade.
“I did not dump you!” she yelled right into my face, causing my ears to fold back instinctively. “I said I needed time, and that we shouldn’t see each other for a bit. I did not break up with you!”
She took a step back, all of her muscles tensing up, yet unable to express the boiling rage that was inside her. “For pete’s sake!” she cried out, and I swear I could see new tears rolling down her face, “How could you do this to me!? Fuck! Fucking shit!” she stomped the ground, her head turning to the side, “Shit! I swore to myself I’d never do this again! I knew relationships were bad! I knew feelings were bad! Fuck you for making me believe otherwise!” she spat at me, her eyes seeming to stare right into my soul.
She stiffly shook her head, seeming to clear her thoughts, then continued.
“You!” she pointed a hoof at Cinnamon who was standing behind me with an abashed look on her face, “You’re a backstabbing whore! I should’ve never listened to you when you told me to give him another chance!”
“And you!” Now she turned back to me again, causing me to flinch ever so slightly. Locking eyes with me, she said her next words slowly, and with emphasis. “You’re a disgrace to ponykind. I hope you know that.”
With that, she turned around, shook her head and stomped the ground again. “God, I need to get out of here. I hope you both rot in hell!”
Watching her stomp down the stairs towards the exit door, then looking back at Cinnamon who was still motionlessly standing behind me, I could feel my head sink.
Why couldn’t it have been Silver Platter?
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Dis gon get good
O heck
Hell yea! I love it! Now I'm curious where this is going!
Well....... That could have gone better...
Still, Cinnamon Swirl is best character, I think I'm in love.
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8518060
Well, glad to hear you guys enjoyed it. I gotta give credit to MadDonut for coming up with that twist at the end though; I was just the typing minion here. Chapter six should be up in a few weeks ^_^
8518060
Glad you like her! Again, props to MadDonut for coming up with her in chapter two, though I'll admit I did take some inspiration for her character from a certain other mature mare in a story you wrote not too long ago ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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You give everyone but yourself too much credit, Berry.
pre00.deviantart.net/a8ab/th/pre/f/2016/151/b/c/miss_pommel_is_flattered_by_slb94-da4jlgq.png
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Aww you're too kind ^_^
Seriously though, it's people like you that keep me writing. Chapter 6 will be up by tonight.