Junior Gala: The golden girls

by the frank

The Moment

That moment when everything turned.

The Neigh Yorker was one of the largest and most prominent papers in Manehattan, and to a level even in Equestria as a whole. It's editorial office and HQ was placed in a skyscraper at the corner of 9th and 36th, which it shared with a marketing firm, a pizza place and a factory for prostheses. The HQ included the top fifteen floors, starting at seventeen with the reception and ended on thirtytwo with the gym and their very own Thin & Expensive Coffee shop. And on the 27th floor, there was a small office with the name "Alsesta Grandeur" on the door.

It wasn’t much to the world, and yet, this was the publication’s food department. Alsesta Grandeur ran her four pages mostly by herself, only with the assistance of a photographer from time to time. In here, she created magic using only a pen and a typewriter. The room was, not surprisingly, sparsely furnished. A desk with the mentioned typewriter, a surprisingly comfortable chair, a waste paper bin and a coffee machine was the whole (if you didn’t count the food bowls on the floor for the large Doberman that usually filled up the room). Alsesta did most of her work at home or on location, but two days of the week she spent here, transcribing her articles or drinking pitch black coffee and looking out over her town. Especially on rainy days. Journalism was a tough business. But she was a tough mare. But that didn’t mean she spent all her time in her room, no. Two days of the week was enough. It was not like they owned her or anything.

Today was a full working day, and the smattering from the typewriter filled the room. She had been slacking of some lately due to the antics of a mare who apparently had decided that she wanted to be a part of her life. Four days ago they woke up together in the same bed, and because of that, Alsesta was now spending her third day in a row at her office. She wasn’t avoiding her or anything, it was just… Work. yes. And she had three reviews and two articles to do. She could of course do them next week… But Alsesta Grandeur was not tardy!

She had one reason, and one reason only to stay at Fransbrötchens place. That hard mattress of hers had done wonders to her back. Yes. The other things that happened were just a coincidence. Perhaps she should go over to see her on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. Not to get her hopes up or that she was having some urges, just for the chance to sleep better. Yes.

She was halfway through the second review when there was a knock on the door and her editor-in-chief entered the room without waiting for permission. Despite mostly handling herself, Alsesta was technically a part of the staff for lifestyle and housekeeping, and her boss was a mare named Stew What, who didn't know smack about food. And therefore, Alsesta despised her, naturally.

"Zesty! Great! Just the mare I was looking for!"

"Don't. call. me. Zesty. And, yes, here I am. Now that you found me, please leave."

"Zesty, Zesty, Zesty! My mare Zesty! You’re full of surprises! It’s just like you, to not say a word and surprise us just like that! I tell you, the directors are over the top about this! I tell you, there will be a fat bonus waiting for you this month. Four numbers."

Alsesta stared at her. "Bonus? For what? ...Did my warning against visiting "The Prancing Windigo" save that many lives from dead tastebuds?"

Stew laughed her boasting stupid laugh. "Ha! You know, Zesty, you can be really funny when you put your mind to it. Come on, don’t be modest! You know!”

“I can’t say I do, no.”

“Alright, alright, let’s ‘pretend’, shall we. Typically Zesty. Well, I’ll say it straight, you saved the day! Or rather, the weekend. Thanks to you, our weekend special will sell like salt stones in June! "

Alsesta looked sceptical. "What have I done?"

Stew slapped her on her shoulder, rather hard. "Come on now, Zesty! She told us that all about how you persuaded her to do it! To be honest, I almost fell out of my chair when she said your name. How do YOU know HER?"

Alsesta stared at her boss with empty eyes. She had absolutely no idea whatsoever what she was talking about. And who was 'Her'...?

Her. Of course. Then everything fell into place. There was only three mares she knew of with enough reputation to be referred to simply as "Her”. One was a famous up and coming model. One was a princess... And the third one was the singular reason she had spent three days at the office instead of her apartment.

"Holy Saint Megan… Please don’t tell me it is Fra...Photo Finish?"

"Mares and Gentlecolts, we have a winner! Do you have any idea how big this is? Photo Finish giving US an exclusive set of pictures? This is a sensation! Clothes by Suri Polomare and modelled by our own star reporters! She will call it 'front page cover extraordinaire'. This is better than our Hearts and Hooves special Q&A with Princess Cadence! Well, gotta run! Can't let her wait! Or ‘She goes!’ She really is something else. Whatever your connection is, be sure to use it again and you might even get a secretary!"

And she was gone.

Like she would need a secretary. So, Franzbrötchen was in the building now? ...If she worked hard, she would get one article done and then she could take a cart and be gone in half an hour. But somewhere inside her was this nagging wish to look at her. A bit at least. And so, Alsesta found herself in the elevator on its way to the 30th floor where the newsroom was. It was the place in the building with the largest windows and the whole Manehattan skyline behind it. No guess there on where the shoot would take place. She was busy, but five minutes she could afford, just looking.

As she left the elevator, she almost walked straight into the shot, and she quickly took cover. Three of her colleagues, two mares and one stallions walked up and down in... clothes. Alsesta didn't care schmuck about clothes, but she had to admit that it didn't look to bad. There was a few curious watchers standing there, including a few of the boardponies. Also, one of the mares was the magazines star-reporter, Say-More Horsh. Alsesta had to admit it was impressive.
But there was no doubt about who was the center piece in this business. All attention in the room was sucked into the small mare with the sunglasses and black skirt, surrounded by her assistants and with her camera around her neck. She was dominating the situation with an ease captains of the royal guard could only dream about. Alsesta crouched down behind her hiding place (only now she noticed it was a hibiscus), peeked through the leaves and looked at her. Brash and loud as she always was in private, there was a difference between Fransbrötchen and Photo Finish. Fransie was just loud, Photo barked.

"More make up! Too much! Not enough! Too much! Enough! And pose! And pose! Ah yes, I, Photo Finish will create… ze magicks here in zis very room! NEIN! Lower ze arm! No, ze other arm! No ze other arm! Yes! Yes! Yes! NEIN! Zis is not some kind of fashion show! Hold zat position! Zis is ze life here! Ze action! Ze drama! Ze intrigues! Ze passion! YES! Like zat! NEIN! BEWEGEN SIE NICHT! JA! JA! JA! ENOUGH! Where is my coffee? More milk! ENOUGH! NEXT!"

Alsesta turned around and left. She had seen enough. "Good thing she keeps that side away from home," she muttered to herself. There was nothing likable in that barking and demanding attitude. Nothing at all. Nothing that made her cheeks blush. No. Nope. And that dress she wore… that provoking combination of black, white and pink, and that really slim skirt, with only a small hole for her tail... combined with some really edgy stockings… Coffee. She needed coffee. Now.

Back into the safe and quietness of her office she poured another cup of coffee and sat down. She could still escape. There was the possibility that she didn’t know where she worked… Oh, stop being stupid! Of course she know where I work! Why else would she be here. And arrange a photo session! Just to show off… Stupid mare. Automatically her fingers began to move over the typewriter, only waiting for the inevitable.

And after 45 minutes, it came. There was another knock on the door, and again she didn’t wait for permission to enter. Alsesta frowned. "What is it now, Stew..." But of course it wasn't Stew.

"Hallo liebchen... Such a nice office jo have!"

Alsesta stared at the flamboyant image in the doorway. She wore exactly the same clothes, only the sunglasses were off. She swallowed and managed to answer pretty clear. "Fransie? What are you doing here?"

"Ah, why do jo ask? I saw jo before when jo tried to be discreet..." She put a hand on Alsesta’s neck and kissed her forehead. “Jo know why…”

Alsesta blushed. "Yes, well... I meant here, now?"

"It has been some days, liebchen. I missed jo. I wanted to see jo.”

“You could have called.”

“Jo haven’t given me jor number. But I knew where jo worked so… here I went.”

“Yes, with all your entourage. You could have just come here, you know?”

Fransbrötchen placed her hand on her chest in an indignant way. “And let the whole world know that PHOTO FINISH was here only to see ze great Alsesta Grandeur? The scandal! And jo wouldn’t like it…”

“Beg your pardon?”

“SO! I decided to come here, big style. Zis way no pony would guess that I’m here to see jo…”

“You said that I persuaded you to come here!”

“And jo did! By not responding to me, jo made me come to jo! What else could I do?”

Alesta raised a finger, but found herself without words that descirbed what she felt, and let the hand fall down.

“No, I wanted to make an impression! And I wanted... jo."

Quick as a weasel she had one hand inside of Alsesta’s shirt and began to unbutton it. She swung her leg over Alsesta and straddled her before she had the chance to react but now she caught Fransie’s hand. "What are you... stop!"

"Liebchen... Jo didn’t mind when I touched jo last Saturday...or ze week before… and zat time on ze couch…”

Alsesta’s mind had a fight with a completely different part of her body regarding the response. In the end it was a draw and her answer was "Well... no, but... this is my office! You can’t..."

"So? Nopony tells Photo finish what to do and not… "

"Please, Fransie… I'm not... wearing a bra..." It was true. She had skipped that part of her outfit this morning, knowing she would be indoors the whole day. And she hoped there was some normal decency in Fransbrötchen.

Fransbrötchen smiled. There was evil behind that smile, Alsesta was sure about it. "Well, that's good." She leaned forward and whispered, "Because I am not wearing any panties..."

She took Alsesta’s free hand and led it in under her dress and between her legs. It was warm and moist. "Fransie... you..."

She leaned even closer. "I want Jo, engelchen. I need jo. Please, love me. Love me now."

Alsesta stammered. "But... but... this is an office! I... I have nothing to…”

"Wrong, mein liebchen. Jo are here. And jor fingers are exactly where zey should be. Just don't move them. I will do ze rest..."
…

Fransbrötchen left Alsesta 15 minutes later. She sat completely still in her chair, just staring, with one hand down her pants. She kept that exact position even three hours later when the cleaner passed. First she shouted at him. Then she went to the bathroom to wash her hands. Then she got herself another cup of coffee. With lots of milk and sugar this time. Screw decorum! She made her decision, she was going to give it. Might as well do it completely. She walked over to the next office, where she lifted the receiver and rang a certain number.

“Hello, Fransbrötchen… It’s me… My number is 487634 and… there is this new Neighapolitan place down at 23rd… I was going to test it tonight and… the table is for two… it would be a waste to not… and the Paper is paying… what? No, it would just be convenient… But... But… Yes, but...“

She looked at the wall in silence, and then, almost whispering she said: “Fransbrötchen… would you like to dine with me tonight?”

Author's Note:

A sexier version of this chapter can be found here.