Sensation - Appleloosa

by Vivid Syntax

Chapter 19 - Guys' Night

Life returned to normal for a couple weeks, except for ruminating on what it really meant to be mayor. Things were busy, of course, what with the harvests and all, but it was a good kind of busy. I didn't drink much. Just a few beers here and there, and I spent more time with friends than I had since before Bronze.

Pridesong was hosting us at his place, towards the southern side of town. He didn't own much land (and really, my thoughts on ownership have changed since working with the buffalo), but he has a neat house. It's got a deck off the second story, perfect for looking up at the stars. He wants to bring a wife up there one day. At the time, it was a comfy space for the five of us to while away the dark hours.

Dawn Light passed Grassy Ridge the whisky bottle. "Sleep juice, Grassy?"

He yawned. "I'm good without it, but thank you, Dawn. Braeburn? Uh… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, though."

I shrugged. "Sure, I'll help." Dawn has an iron stomach, but she insists she likes the harshness and fire of her family's homemade recipes. This one had a hint of pear, of all things, mixed with the guilt of failing yet again to refuse alcohol from a friend. I cleared my throat after a long pull.

Dawn slapped her chest. "Haha! Can't hide it, Braeburn. I heard that little rumble."

I smirked back. "No idea what you're talkin' about, Dawn." I turned my head. "You wanna nip, Trail?"

"Naw," he said quietly, a frown deepening on his face. He'd been like that ever since the meeting with Mountain. We'd tried to snap him out of it, but he had the long stare of a pony lost in his own head.

Pridesong whinnied. "Okay, enough sad shit, Trail." He rolled onto his side and nearly overshot in his drunkenness. "You gotta get out of this funk. Bad things happen. You get over them. Look at Braeburn."

"Me?" I asked.

"Yeah. You went through the ringer, and you bounced back."

'Have I?' I thought about my fear of heights, the fact that I was still struggling not to drink when tempted, and how I kept throwing myself into my work to avoid thinking about it all. "It's harder than you think, Pride."

"Oh, c'mon! I'm tryin' to help here. You find ways to work through it, at least. It's gotta get better, right?"

I looked back at the gorgeous sky. Most folks comment how small and insignificant it makes them feel, but I've never understood that. Seeing all that space above, all the trillions of places I could have ended up, it makes Appleloosa feel so much more special. This is where I landed, so I need to foster it the best I can. By extension, I'm special, too, because I'm here.

That thought made me flinch like Granny was about to whip my backside. Humility has always been a virtue, and yet, exceptional ponies need to exist, right? But then again, here I was, standing up to lead a whole town of ponies, and I couldn't even cheer up a friend. In a way, we were both going through grief.

"You there, Braeburn?"

Dawn shushed him. "Let him think."

I looked to Trail. His eyes were on me, pleading. "The feelings don't get smaller, Trail. All you can do is make your world bigger, so they look smaller by comparison."

Trail furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't know how to do that."

"Truth be told, neither do I. See, I'm only running for mayor because I think it's important. It helps my mood, but that’s secondary. You need to find what you think is important, too. If you focus on the problem too much, you never give it a chance to leave you be. That's how I'm coping, at least."

He stared at me. He didn't smile, but the fact that he made eye contact at all was a start.

Grassy spoke up. His hooves were folded on his chest. "You know this desert better than anypony, Trail. There's still a lot to explore. You can still be that pony."

Four sets of eyes landed on Trail, and he looked at his belly. "Thanks, guys. I'll try. Feels like I shouldn't be exploring out–"

"Hold up," Pride interrupted. "Didn't Braeburn just say not to focus too much?"

"Yeah. My bad."

Dawn rested a hoof on his shoulder. "Just gotta find something new."

"I don't wanna leave, Dawn." He shrunk.

Grassy piped up. "Maybe you have to." All four of us gave him the stink eye, and he waved his hooves. "N-n-not like that! Just… maybe some time away would do you good? It worked for Braeburn, right?"

I huffed. "Certainly got me focused on other things. Frankly, I wish I didn't have as many trips lined up."

I could hear the curl on Pridesong’s lips. "Now which would those be?"

"There are a bunch of meetings in Canterlot, and since we're doing things out of order on account of the, uh… negotiations, all the candidates for mayor need to be at all of 'em. And even before that, I need to file my paperwork in person."

"It's settled, then! Guys' night in Canterlot. Next weekend."

Grassy perked up, and Trail even went wide-eyed. Grassy mumbled, "I don't know. I’ve never done that kind of thing."

"All the better. You and Trail get to explore. You in, Dawn?"

She shook her head. "Hell no. I ain't playing bait for a bunch of sex-hungry stallions."

"Haha! Well, we'll do other stuff, too. The rest of you guys in?"

We relented and made a quick plan: ride out on the Friday export train, sleep overnight someplace cheap, then I could file my stuff in the morning and have all evening to take in the city. We could catch the early morning Sunday sleeper train and be back by nightfall.

As we packed it in for the night, Trail gave Pride a hoof bump. "Thanks, buddy."

I got roped into organizing, of course. Pride said it would be practice for being mayor. I didn't know much about Canterlot at the time – what a blissful time that was – so I reached out to an old acquaintance and friend of Applejack's, Miss Rarity. I told her I wouldn't accept any gifts, and I just needed information, but I wasn't at all surprised by her response:

My dear Braeburn,

Consider it taken care of! You'll have reservations at the Garden Centre Suites for the 18th and 19th. I know you said you won't accept charity, so I promise: I won’t spend even a bit! However, I've secured the business rate that I get for my employees and models. If you want to keep Applejack from accusing you of cheating a thriving business that charges too much anyway, I've included a contract to make it official.

I glanced at the "contract." It read simply, "We agree to be on retainer for one outfit at one runway show, to be determined, unless we don't want to." I laughed at the lengths she'd go to. It ain't illegal (or even a hotel policy violation – I looked into it), but she was right about AJ. I kept reading her letter.

I promise not to barge in on your colts' weekend, but I do hope you'll join me for a drink if you visit The Neigh-Neigh Club (which I highly recommend for your compatriots, especially). It's been far too long, and I'd love to hear how you and Soarin' are doing these days.

Ta~!

Your friend,
Rarity

My foreleg went slack, and I looked out my kitchen window. “And here I thought I was done comin’ out about my life.” There wasn’t much breeze. My orchard was mostly still. When a bluebird zipped through some of the branches, my heart sang for a fraction of a second.

That next Friday afternoon, we rode on a train full of fruit and grains headed for Canterlot. There were two benches that Pride, Grassy, Trail, and I squeezed onto, and the whole car smelled of apple sugar. Grassy had thought ahead and brought a couple bedrolls, which he’d set up on the floor. “Are all your train rides this classy, Braeburn?” Trail shot him a look, and Grassy recoiled. “Oops. Sorry.”

I laughed off the sting. “It’s alright, Grassy. This car ain’t as fancy as the ones Blue and I took, but the ride is better with friends. Smells a hell of a lot better, too.”

Pride laughed. “Not so big on the Wonderbolt musk?”

I blushed. “Naw, Soarin’ smells great.” It struck me that I was speaking in the present tense. I must have looked goofy reminiscing about his scent like that, because Pride and Trail gave me knowing looks. “But we’d always be in these sleeper cars with no air circulation, so it’d get rank pretty quick.”

“Well, don’t get your hopes up. We’ll be pretty rank ourselves on the way back.”

Trail finally looked up. “You're not gonna shower? What, afraid the soaps are too fancy for you?”

Pride leaned back against the window and spread his hind legs wide to fill the space. “If I get my way, we’ll all be too busy to shower.”

Trail cracked a smile. “Dawn was right about you.”

“I tell it like it is.” He smirked and raised his chin, looking down like a proud peacock. “But I ain’t leavin’ my colts out to dry, don’t you worry. We’re all gettin’ some comfort this weekend.”

I snickered, “Ya’ think that attitude is why you always strike out in Appleloosa?”

Grassy and Trail both laughed at that, though Grassy tried to hide it. Pride snorted and kept up the cockiness. “Now who says I do?” The rest of us oooo’d like grade school colts. “I might have a couple regulars back home.”

“Yeah, lefty and righty,” Trail teased.

As we laughed, Pride grabbed an apple from an overflow barrel and hucked it at Trail. It hit him on the chin, but he didn’t mind, and we spent our time swapping stories about our experiences. We agreed that the guys wouldn’t name names, but we did guess a few of Pride and Trail’s partners from the details. Grassy didn’t have any stories to share, it turned out, and Pride swore he’d get Grassy his first time by the end of the weekend.

To my great surprise, the guys weren’t too put off by my stories, either. I didn’t get as detailed as I could have, just enough to set their imaginations running. They were none too judgmental beyond a few obvious clenches and a mumbled, “Not sure I could do that,” or two. They were more curious than anything. They were full of questions about how it felt and the mechanics of it all, and I jokingly offered to let them watch sometime.

Soarin’s described it with his team and the locker rooms. There’s a sacredness to a space like that. The only folks who hear you are the ones who know you best. Nopony blabs unless you all agree (and yes, I got permission before you and I met today). You get to be honest. Vulnerable. It’s a topic we don’t get to discuss much (especially not the straights, I’m told), but it’s something we all experience. I hadn’t had conversations like that since the first year in the desert, out with Copper, Trail, and Flint, back when I was the inexperienced one. Felt better than a Canterlot massage to lay it on the table again.

We chatted and dozed the whole trip, and at around three in the morning, we woke up, half-zombies, and checked in with the receiver for the fruit delivery. She was perky for that hour, but I’m guessing she was used to late-night shifts. Our business concluded, we asked for directions to the Garden Centre Suites, and we dragged ourselves to a cab. Grassy and Pride fell asleep immediately, and I was in and out. Trail was alert, taking in every single street name, even as they flew by.

But he was the first one to spot our accommodations. “Holy hell! Wake up, colts!”

We all snapped up, and my stars, the hotel sure was something. Twenty stories tall, golden lights everywhere, even in the middle of the night, a glitzy fountain that never repeated a pattern, perfectly manicured trees… It boggled the mind, and suddenly it wasn’t just Trail taking it all in.

We grabbed our bags and Pride’s guitar, and we stepped off as the taxi halted in front of the hotel’s giant, revolving door. The four of us were dumbstruck, craning our necks up and gawking like the bumpkins that we are. It was almost a shame to go inside, but the interior was just as incredible. There were red carpets, indoor plants, iced cucumber water, gold everything, and a subtle floral theme that wove through every aspect of the design. No fewer than three ponies greeted us and offered to help with our bags, but we were fine on our own.

Pride cleared his throat and muttered, “Hope you guys brought your bits.”

We seized up, but bravely, I took the final few steps towards the concierge and said, “Braeburn Apple, checking in. Uh… might be under the name of Miss Rarity.”

The young, gray mare behind the desk flipped through a ledger. “Of course! Welcome to the Garden Centre Suites. Looks like everything is squared away, and you’ll be staying until Sunday morning, correct?”

I blinked. “Wait. Squared away? Miss Rarity said we were just gettin’ the employee discount.”

She looked back at the ledger. “Ah, yes. It seems there’s a note about that. Miss Rarity wanted you to know that…” She squinted at the note. “...she has far too many rewards points to use before they expire, and she didn’t spend even a single bit on the accommodations.” That Rarity. Element of Generosity through and through. “You are responsible for incidentals, however.”

I was grateful for that last part. After the mare explained to my hopeless friends what incidentals are, we got our keys and were escorted up the elevator by a unicorn attendant. And when we got to our suite…

“YEE-HAW!!!” Pride reared back, and we were awestruck at the sight of it. Two separate bedrooms with king beds, a lounge with a pull-out sofa, a bar, two bathrooms, and all of it clean and polished. We tried to shush Pride, since it was still before four, but he just yelled, “Race you to the bed, Tr–”

Trail took off before he could finish, and after some well-meaning curse words, the two of them leapt for the bed, then bounced right off and tumbled ass over teakettle onto the floor. The four of us roared with laughter while Grassy and I caught up.

We spread out like damn detectives, appreciating every fine detail. Grassy found a small folder and gasped. “Can we get room service!?” His ears drooped. “Wait, goodness, those prices are…” He looked around at all three of us, who were staring with the wide-eyed excitement of puppies when you say the word ‘walk.’ He grinned. “...worth it, especially since the room’s free.”

That got another cheer. The wall banged from some neighbors who didn’t appreciate our noise, but it didn’t slow us down. We crowded around the menu and picked out an absurd amount of food. Grassy was kind enough to even point out, “Looks like they’ve got alcohol-free mocktails, Braeburn. Wanna try some with me?” His tone was just a little off, but his kindness struck a chord with me.

Trail called it in with a fancy speaking wire hooked up to a cone (some kind of magic, I bet), and when Pride kept poking at him, he finished with a giddy grin on his face. “And please send your prettiest server.”

“There we go!” Pride clapped him on the shoulders when he hung up. "You got first dibs, Grassy."

Grassy gulped. "Heh. W-we'll see."

The guys all wondered aloud who we’d get. Their fantasies ran wild, though there was an audible groan when we heard a stallion’s voice about thirty minutes later. “Room service.” Grassy let him in, and any disappointment they’d had was immediately lost when they saw three carts of food on silver trays and under cloches. Everything from fancy waffles to fragrant sandwiches to all the ingredients for the 10 or so cocktails we’d ordered (including one big fishbowl full of a very boozy punch). As for me, however, my eyes were on our server: a trim, tall, large-chested unicorn with purple fur and a light blue mane that was styled to perfection. He wore a very tight vest with a pressed undershirt and tie. He smiled as he entered. “I’m terribly sorry, gentlestallions, but I’m afraid I’m the prettiest available right now.”

Pride cut in. “Don’t apologize just yet. How’s he fare, Braeburn?”

I was blushing fiercely, and my heart beat fast, but I managed to mumble, “Oh, he’s marvelous.”

Our server straightened up again. “Then I’m happy to be of service. My name is Gallant Heart, and if there’s anything I can get you, please do let me know.”

Pride wasn’t shy. “How 'bout some dick for my friend here?”

I was mortified, but Trail and Grassy got a kick out of it. Gallant took it with grace. “Unfortunately, I’m more of a bottom.” Trail drove his face into a pillow to hide a giant guffaw, and Grassy was visibly confused by the term. “And sadly, it’s against hotel policy to take such actions with guests, at least while on duty.” He unfolded some gilded trays and began serving us. As he lay my omelet in front of me, he said in a low voice, “...but my shift ends at noon.”

Another yee-haw, and another knock on the wall that did nothing to dull our spirits.

Gallant was an excellent server, and he mixed our drinks with flair before he left us to our business. We went hog-wild. Grassy and I abstained from some of the alcohol, and those mocktails were damn fine. We did help drain the fishbowl, though, and as seven in the morning rolled around, we all passed out, half-drunk and more stuffed than after Hearth’s Warming dinner. Thank Luna for blackout curtains.

And as I fell asleep, I felt something shift in my heart, but… I didn’t know yet what it was, and it wasn’t quite done.

By eleven, Trail was back up, and he poked at the rest of us. “Hey, Braeburn! That office closes at two, right? We best take care of business before your date.”

I snorted and rubbed my eyes. “I ain’t datin’ him, Trail.”

“Y… you’re not?”

I felt a jab at my conscience, and as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I saw that his had gone dark. It was a look of defeat. It reminded me of my darkest days in Cloudsdale, when I felt like I had nopony to turn to. I remembered how much I wanted somepony to just show me that it would be okay. I relaxed and relented. “Okay, fine. But in that case, I’m in Pride’s corner. You’re gettin’ some, too.”

Trail nodded. “I can do that.”

We cleaned up as much as we could and took turns in the far-too-nice shower. It wasn’t lost on me that Grassy kept saying, “It’s almost noon. We should get going.”

Pride tipped his hat and grabbed his guitar. “Saddle up, colts. I don’t know where we’re goin’, but we won’t be back until long after nightfall. Let’s do this!”

Down in the lobby, sure enough, Gallant was scoping out the brochures and pamphlets for all the local attractions, dressed in a casual button-up and light sweater, pretending to be deep in thought. Grassy and Pride hung back and snickered, and Trail nudged my backside when I hesitated. He teased, “Show us how it’s done, playcolt.”

I rolled my eyes, but then I looked back at my partners in crime. “Fine, and I’ll do it without my fantastic ass. Y’all take notes.” I straightened my vest and hat, and I walked up to Gallant. “Lemme guess: you wanna make a recommendation, but nothing seems as good as a personal tour guide?”

Gallant’s eyes lit up, and he grimaced. “You know, I spent twenty minutes trying to come up with that line. Terribly rude to ravage it to pieces so casually.”

I looked him up and down, slow enough that he knew I was checking him out (and I was), and I tipped my hat at him. “Not the only thing I’ll ravage today, I reckon.” I could almost feel the colts leaning in behind me.

He beamed and nickered in delight, the first time I saw a crack in his professionalism. He quickly recovered and replied, “Well, then I would be foolish to risk you finding somepony better. Allow me to be your guide.”

“Okay, but only if you call it a date. For my friends’ sake, of course.”

He nodded. “Then it’s a date.” He turned to my companions. “Are you ready to go?”

The guys came up behind me, snickering. Grassy mumbled, “You make it look so easy.”

I walked next to him as we exited the hotel. “Comes with practice and a lot of failure.” Those failures flooded back, but with my world expanding and my friends by my side, they didn’t seem so big, and I felt that feeling again. “You learn to keep tryin’, because the folks that care about you want you to be happy.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Trail smile. Another little shift.

I felt guilty making Gallant take us to the capital sector. He didn’t seem to mind, and he had lots to say on the way. Mercifully, my in-person appearance with the notary and the judge took less than fifteen minutes, all told. It wasn’t much more than swearing to uphold the law if elected, some certifications that I hadn’t committed major crimes, agreeing to a background check, and pledges to hold to the timelines I’d already set as part of the Founders’ Council.

After that, the city was ours, and hoo, was I glad I’d certified to not committing crimes before we let loose. There were all sorts of museums and giant buildings where we snuck into areas we shouldn’t, Gallant took a few photos with the four of us hanging on statues of Celestia and bein’ downright nasty, and we even had an impromptu square dance in the middle of the park that had half the other park dwellers jumping in and the other half looking like they would faint. I’ve never heard the word “quaint” so many times in my life.

When we walked past the stadium, I saw a big poster for an upcoming Wonderbolts show. In the back of my head, I realized it lined up with my next visit in two weeks. The thought crossed my mind, but… I don’t know. I don’t know what I felt. A combination of longing and inevitability, maybe?

Trail snapped me out of it. "You coming, Braeburn?"

I hadn't even realized I'd stopped. "Uh, yeah!" Gallant was a bit ahead, frowning, but he tried to hide it.

Gallant and I… Well, we didn’t really hit it off. He’s a great guy, but there wasn’t that spark, and we both knew it. I kept telling him he didn’t need to keep carting us around, but he insisted on staying until four, when he had to go home and sleep for his early-morning shift. That’s gotta be a rough schedule to keep, and I’m grateful for all the time he spent with us.

As he was leaving, Pride asked about places to visit, and Gallant responded with, “I suspect the Neigh-Neigh Club will be to your liking. The patronage often seeks the types of revelrous delights that your merry band pursues.” When we all blinked at him, stunned, he chuckled and clarified, “It’s where you go to get laid.”

As we said our goodbyes, Gallant said to me, “My lunch break is in the middle of the night, and it’s flexible. If you want some room service, I recommend you try the glazed donut. It’s simply divine.”

I smiled and cast a glance at Trail, who was chatting with Grassy about where to get dinner, but also clearly watching me from the corner of his eye. I looked back at Gallant. “I think I will.”

“Excellent.” He looked down at my lips. “May I?”

“Please do.” We leaned in and shared a warm kiss. He stuck out his lower lip, and I suckled on it for a few seconds, until he shivered with delight.

He pulled back. “See you tonight, Braeburn.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.” I watched him waltz away, hips swaying more than they needed to, and I wondered how long it had been since I’d been top.

Pride cantered up and threw a foreleg around my shoulder. “One down?”

I looked back at the others. “And three to go.”

He slapped my chest. “That’s our mayor! Now let’s go pay too much for dinner and keep this train rollin’.”

Trail had spotted a place called “Tasty Treat” on Saddle Row, and the curry there rivals Miss Holli’s. Pride, masculine idiot he is, went for the spiciest dish they had, but he had to gulp down a pitcher of water by his third bite. But guys’ night has certain unwritten rules, and you never leave a brother hanging. Between us, we finished that dish to the last bite, our mouths raging all the way and laughing our asses off at how much pain we were in. Pride and I were the worst. Grassy could keep control of himself, barely, and Trail was the MVP. I’m sure he ate half that dish himself, and when we asked how, he told us all about these peppers that grow in the desert. “Tiny, excruciating, and ideal for inducing sweat when you need to cool off.”

A walk around the gardens and an ice cream cone settled our stomachs, and as the sun went down, we stood at an overlook, sharing the moment and taking in the beautiful view.

Pride asked, “How you feelin’, Trail?”

Trail nodded. “Good. I’m… I’m good.” He looked to all of us in turn. “Thanks for this, Pride. Braeburn. Grassy. I’m feeling good.”

“Haha! I’m glad, but I was hoping you’d say you were hungry for mares.”

“That too,” Trail replied, all chipper.

“Good. You ready, Grassy?”

Grassy gulped and looked straight ahead. “Probably not.”

I shared a look with Pride, and at once, we lunged sideways and squished the other two between us. “Now, what kinda attitude is that? It’s guys’ night!”

“Hey!” Trail shouted, trying to get away, but we kept them both pinned.

Grassy almost got away, but I wrestled him back into place. I laughed, “Now unless you and Trail are gonna turn my way and keep each other company, I suggest you have a little enthusiasm!”

Trail and Grassy threw us off and snorted, but I saw the gears turning in their heads. Grassy looked between us. “Do you… Will you guys help me?”

“Grassy,” Pride assured, setting a hoof on Grassy’s shoulder. “We’re makin’ a stallion out of you tonight one way or another.”

“Again,” I said, “the fallback option is there, but I ain’t sure it’s your preference.” I shook my ass at them.

And they laughed. They weren’t laughing at me, or poking fun at all, but just sharing a smile at how absurd we were all being. My chest swelled. ‘Oh, this is what it’s like,’ I heard in my own head. That moment is burned in my mind: Trail covering up a blush, Pride hanging off Grassy, and all four of us standing in that splendid sunset, on top of the world.

And once again, I felt it, that little shift in my chest.

Trail brushed himself off like he was brushing away a thought. “Well, you haven’t turned me yet, Braeburn, but I appreciate it. Where are we headed?”

I turned back around. “Both Rarity and Gallant recommended a place called Neigh-Neigh.”

“Yeah, I saw it on Fifth and Duskwood.”

Pride gave him wide eyes. “You’re a damn freak, Trail.” Trail just shrugged.

Grassy started to leave. “Great! Sounds like fun.”

“Now hold up,” I said. I thought back to everything Soarin’ had taught me about places like that. “There won’t be much going on, and we don’t wanna show up too early, or we’ll look desperate.”

Trail stepped up and punched my shoulder. “Look at you, mister Big City Mayor. So what do we do instead?”

Pride tapped a hoof. “Didja happen to see any regular bars around here, Trail?”

Trail closed his eyes tightly. “Pretty sure there was a gaming hall over on Eighth, just off Mane.” He opened them back up. “I didn’t get a great look, but they should have pool and darts. Probably as close as we’ll get in a city like this.”

“Works for me. You ready, Grassy?”

“Me?” Grassy asked. “Uh, yeah! Let’s go!”

Trail’s memory never fails. The Regal Game Hall was a bit of comfort in the big city. It was still too posh for our liking and lacked character, but it was big, dark, and perfect for relaxing. We played pool and bowled and shot the shit about business over beers. I kept myself to two.

The guys teased me about keeping time, but a little after ten, I told them we could go. We took the cab over to Neigh-Neigh. We could hear the loud, thumping music from down the block, and the hypnotic, colored lights dazzled us all. The bouncer took one look at us, smirked, and let us in once we’d paid the cover. Mighty good thing Rarity comped our hotel room, or we might’ve gone broke that night.

Inside, we breathed more sweat and alcohol vapors than air. I saw Trail’s nose flair first, followed by the others, and we turned quite a number of heads with our hats. Everypony but us was in some kind of colorful, tight clothing. A bit ironic that our country duds were the ones that stood out most of all, huh?

Pridesong huddled us up and had to practically shout over the music. “Okay. Dancing first. Keep your eyes out for anypony lookin’ your way. Braeburn, you’re wingpony.” I nodded. “Let’s get some, colts!”

You shoulda seen us, strutting onto the dance floor the way we did, brimming with country swagger. Pride was in the lead, and holy hell, he was eating up how much attention he was getting. Trail and Grassy walked behind him, feigning confidence, and I was in the rear. Folks checked us out, almost all mares, and we worked our way to the dance floor.

We squared up, and Pride nodded to each of us as a new song played. We bounced and found the beat, and like a machine, we started our group dance all on the same step. Sure, the music was a hell of a lot different from home, but go to enough Wild West dances, and you'll be ready for anything.

We owned that dance floor, and I felt the music deeply. I had flashbacks to the party at Soarin’s place, and when I opened my eyes, I saw friends. They were hooting and hollering, and all around us, the crowd got into it, too, with a few of the city folk trying to mimic our steps. The DJ swapped to a dance version of some country song, and if we had any doubt about who was running the show, it evaporated. Trail especially went wild, and it only got crazier when the DJ saw Pride’s cutie mark and guitar, and he invited him up on stage to play. The cheers nearly blew out my eardrums as he played one of his standards to the backup beat of the DJ, and there was a small break in the music as Pride took the mic.

“How you folks doin’ tonight!?” Another round of cheers. He was laying the accent on thick for them, and they were eating it up. “Thass good, thass good. Now colts, I appreciate what you’re bringin’ to the table, but if you don’t mind sittin’ out for a moment…” With a whisper to the grinning DJ, he made a bunch of percussive noises on the strings and slapped the body rhythmically, and two unicorn mares freaked out when they realized what he was doing. The rest of the crowd lost their damn minds when he started singing. “All the single mares! Aaaaaall the single mares!” I’d never heard him do a pop cover like that. I wondered if he’d learned it just for the trip.

The stallions and partnered-up mares moved to the side while the singles flooded the center of the club. Trail brought Grassy to chat up a few wallflowers, and I got separated when I saw a stunning, white unicorn mare wink at me from a high-top table. I waved at her, bought a couple Appletinis from a server on the fringes, and headed over. “Evenin’, Miss Rarity!”

She bowed her head politely. “And a marvelous evening to you, Braeburn! So good to finally have a moment to chat.” I set her drink down. “Such a gentlestallion! You really didn’t have to.”

“I insist, Miss Rarity. After all the kindness you’ve shown us, it’s the least I could do. Cheers to you.” We toasted and drank. The appletini was far too sweet for me, and I couldn’t hardly taste the booze.

“I trust that your trip is going well? Your friend up there certainly appears to be enjoying himself. Quite the showpony, and very talented to boot.” She idly played with her glass.

“It’s been a swell time, Miss Rarity! We’ve gotten to raise hell all over town, and the night’s just gettin’ started.”

“Oh, I’m so pleased, Braeburn! Especially seeing you out on the town with friends. I was worried you’d be sick with stress tending to Soarin’s injuries, but it’s wonderful that you’re finding time for yourself as well.” I don’t know how I reacted exactly, but she saw right through me, and she raised a hoof to her mouth. “Oh dear. I’ve said something dreadful, haven’t I?”

I wondered if Soarin’ was dancing somewhere tonight, or if his injuries were still too bad. The latter seemed far more likely. “You’re alright…”

“Oh, Braeburn… I’m so sorry.” She held a hoof to her heart. “I hope it was on good terms, at least.”

My ears swiveled to her. “How did you know?”

“You’re making that forlorn face ponies always make when they’ve had a breakup. Oh, darling, that breaks my heart.” She held her chest, like she was trying to keep herself together. “You’re both such good ponies. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

I slumped, then quickly recovered. “It’ll be alright. The terms were as good as they could be.” I sighed. “I do miss him, though.”

“Perfectly understandable. I’m proud of you for taking a step back out in a place like this, though I will be honest: most of the queer ponies in my circles have other haunts. I’d be happy to introduce you.”

“There’s nopony like Soarin’.” I surprised myself at how quickly I’d said it. “I, uh… I’m not likely to find one like him ever again. We both wanted to be together, but it… circumstances.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Then why split up? Why not go long-distance for a while?” She recollected herself. “I don’t mean to tell you what to do with your love life, Braeburn, but Applejack told me how good you two seemed for each other.”

“We are.” Again, I didn’t know where the honesty was coming from. I wasn’t that drunk. Maybe Miss Rarity just has that effect on ponies.

“Hm…” She looked out to the dance floor and swirled her drink.

Pride was just finishing his song to the loud hoofstomps of dozens of mares. He was clearly in his performer mode and loving every moment of it. “Thank you, thank you. Not to tip my cards, but I had a motive with that particular song. I wanted to know who I can hit on without gettin’ my teeth knocked in.” He idly tuned his guitar while the crowd laughed. “DJ’s givin' one more before I turn it back over. If you like things country style, my buddies and I are at that table over there.” He gave the assembled mares a wink.

I looked over at where he'd indicated. At another high-top, Trail and Grassy were chatting up a mare. Well, Trail was.

To Miss Rarity, I said, "Sorry to be a downer, Miss. Like you said, I'm trying to put myself out there. Lots goin’ on."

She nodded. "I completely understand, and I do believe I'd promised not to intrude on your evening. You look concerned for your emerald friend over there."

"I'm the wingpony, yeah." I smiled. "So I need to do my duty. Before I go, though: did you really mean it about us being your fashion models?"

I swear there were stars in her eyes. "Oh, I've already conceptualized a dozen outfits for each of you!” She calmed down. “And if I may ask a question in return: do you truly believe there's nopony like Soarin' out there for you?"

"I do."

"Then may the universe conspire to give you another chance." She daintily sipped her drink, and her voice took on a raspy purr. "Of course, there’s nothing wrong with having some fun in the meantime. Have you found some companionship for tonight?"

I smiled. "He'll be waitin’ at the hotel."

"You wonderful, naughty colt." She tipped her head at my friends. "But I shan't keep you. I hope you'll say hello the next time you're in Ponyville. I'd love to have a proper dinner."

"Absolutely." I thanked her again a few times, then headed back to the table. Trail was deep into a conversation with a white-and-silver pegasus. He was talking about the situation with the buffalo, and she seemed both enraptured and sympathetic.

Another mare had joined the group, and Grassy was stumbling over his words. "Ma'am, you're mighty pretty, and I'm so sorry. I'm just… wow, I'm stunned and grateful."

She was a light-green unicorn with a practically see-through sweater. She turned to me. "Evening, handsome. And who are you?"

"The gay one," I said with a smirk. I saw her deflate, but I asked, "Was Grassy here tellin' you about his plowin' experience?"

"He said he doesn't have any."

I glanced at Grassy, who looked down at his hooves. I looked back at her. "Well, miss…?"

"Moonglow."

"Miss Moonglow, I'll say this: he's done some work on my orchard, and he's got two things goin' for him. He's got more endurance than just about any pony I've met, and he's very, very eager to please."

Grassy finally made eye contact with her.

Moonglow looked him up and down. "Hm… Okay, let me see you dance." She grabbed him by the forehoof, which just about knocked Grassy over, and led him to the dance floor just as Pride finished up his last song. The transition back to the DJ was quick, and Grassy managed to keep up, even with the fast music. He danced respectfully distanced with Moonglow, and it looked like she wanted him to take more initiative.

My chest felt heavy. I remembered learning to dance to music like this, and I missed Soarin' terribly.

Trail's new friend left, and to distract myself, I asked, "Powder room?"

He shrugged. "We'll see if she comes back." He looked out to the dance floor. Pride was off the stage and chatting up a mare with a violet coat and purple mane. She wore a sheer, silvery top, and she kissed him seemingly out of nowhere. Pride was surprised, but he sank into it. Deep into it. He embraced her the way straights always do when they want to seem big and masculine, but she seemed to enjoy it. Trail smiled. "Pride’s lucky."

"That he is."

We took in the music and the lights. The thump of the beat rattled my chest. Pride and his new friend were getting along well, but Grassy was struggling with the dance.

"Thanks for taking me out tonight, Braeburn."

I turned my head. He looked like stone against the flashing lights that danced across his face, and he was looking right at me. I jerked my head towards the dance floor. "It was Pride's idea, Trail."

"Yeah, but you organized it. And, well… I wouldn't have come out if it weren't for you."

"How do you figure?"

"You and Gallant.” He downed his drink, a gin and tonic from the looks of it. “See, I get a lot of empty words about how I shouldn't feel so bad about the buffalo.” He twisted his drink. “You're the first pony to follow his own advice. I dunno. Just gives me hope. I just want to say thank you."

"You're welcome, friend." I liked how much I’d been using that word.

He looked me in the eye. "I ain't gonna stop trying to make it right, though. You know that, yeah?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I do."

"And you shouldn't, either."

I shifted hooves. "How do you mean?"

Trail shook his head. "You're doing what you always do: throw yourself into work. It's admirable, yeah, but don't you miss him?"

"It's… complicated." I stared at nothing and everything.

"Braeburn, I see that look in your eyes. I've had that same look for four years. I don't want you to end up like me, letting it needle you."

"We… solved it, though." Neither of us were convinced.

"Did you? Or do you realize that it doesn't sit quite right, and everything reminds you how wrong it feels?” He thumped his chest. “Because that's how it is for me."

"I…" I focused on the club again. How alive it all felt. How much I missed feeling like a part of it. "Yeah."

Trail slumped. "Well, damn. I hoped you'd tell me I was wrong. Heh. Seems like I’m off course again."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." I gestured at somepony behind him.

He turned and saw the mare from earlier. "Silver?"

She was lovely, with soft features and smooth wings. "You seem surprised."

"Ah… a little."

She tittered. "Me and my weakness for soft stallions…"

Trail straightened up. "I can be hard when I need to be." Realization flashed on his face. "Oh, shit."

Silver blushed, but she didn't stop smiling. "Good to know. I'd… enjoy putting that to the test later."

Trail's wide eyes turned lusty, and he saddled up next to Silver to whisper something in her ear. She seemed very, very happy with it.

I sipped my drink while another song wrapped up, and the others came back. Pride had his foreleg over a mare's shoulder and introduced her as Violet Velour. As we finished greeting her, Grassy returned alone, head hung low.

Trail was the first to break the awkward silence. "No luck with Moonglow?"

Grassy shook his head. He remembered his voice. "No. I'm probably out of luck. You guys should go have fun. I'm going back to the hotel."

Violet rested a hoof on his shoulder. "You poor dear. Don't give up yet. I'm sure you'll still find some pleasantness this evening."

He shrugged. "Well, unless you have a friend that wants a stallion with no experience, I don't think so."

"To hell with my friends, I'm talking about me."

We all snapped up.

"Frankly, I enjoy showing new stallions the ropes. They always try so hard, like they have something to prove."

Grassy gulped. "Well, I do, I suppose."

Pride snorted and instinctively held Violet tighter, but he saw Grassy's hopeful eyes, and he softened. "You, uh, thinking of abandonin’ me? It's… it's alright. Grassy would take good care of you, I'm sure." His shoulders slumped.

"Ha!" She nuzzled him. "Pridesong, do you know how rare it is to get rugged country stallions in a place like this? Why settle for one if I can have two?"

Pride and Grassy went ramrod stiff, and their pupils widened. Trail and I could barely contain our laughs. Pride finally mumbled, "You mean like… takin' turns?"

Violet settled her weight onto Pride's shoulder. "My dear, have you really never had menage a trois?"

They both looked like adolescent colts having The Talk with their parents. Pride squeaked, "Well… no…"

"Oh, then I must give you both a Canterlot experience to remember!" She reached over and hooked Grassy by the neck, then leaned back so she was sandwiched between them. "I’ll take good care of you both."

"I'm in!" Grassy practicality shouted. He beamed at Pride with expectant eyes.

Pride gulped. "Y-yeah. Okay." He looked at me, as if begging for mercy.

So, I downed my drink and slapped the table. "Alright, y'all gotta work off that nervous energy, and I'm gettin' bored. Let's dance!"

We danced for another few hours, throwing back drinks and losing our minds to the music. The guys had their fun, and Grassy even got a bit flirty a few times. Another unicorn stallion found me, and we danced for a while, but he moved on when he realized he wouldn't convince me to change my plans. Didn't bring me down, since I knew I'd get lucky that night, too.

We stayed until closing time at two in the morning. Sweaty and tipsy, we bumbled our way to the street and the crisp autumn air to find some cabs, but we could only get a 4-seater and a 2-seater at that hour. To my surprise, Pride asked to ride with me. He instructed Grassy, "You and Violet get acquainted. I gotta talk with Braeburn. Be gentle with Grassy, Violet."

"No promises," she said with a wink. She kissed Grassy on the cheek, and I could almost see the little hearts in his eyes.

We piled into our cabs, and once we were on our way, I was too exhausted to be delicate. "So. What's on your mind?"

"Mares. But…" He reclined, looked out the window, and didn’t say anything.

That hit me like finding a pear on an apple tree. "Since when do you clam up?"

"Good point.” He looked back at me. “I've been meaning to ask you about relationships. Violet's great, but she's a fling. I've approached and dated just about every mare I care to back in Appleloosa, and I'm still single.” His shoulders tightened, like he was trying to seem angry, but it just came across as defeated. “Seems like there's nopony for me in that town. I figure if anypony might have advice, it'd be you."

I shrugged. "Well, you ain't wrong. I know what it feels like to have a small pool."

Pride turned to me and leaned in. "So what's wrong with me? What am I doing so bad?" He shook his head. "Why don't it ever work out?"

Pride was a conundrum. He always seemed so popular, but loneliness strikes us all, I guess. "Well, what are you after?"

"Somepony to love, Braeburn. I wanna settle down, do things right, like it's supposed to be."

Another blue stallion came to mind. "Do you?"

Pride cocked an eyebrow. "Of course." I let him hang there for a moment. His eyes darted up and down, and as he relaxed back, he asked, “...right?”

"I ain't so sure. Pride, you're a celebrity. Just like Soarin'."

He snorted. "I ain't at his level."

"Maybe not, but isn't the appeal the same? Pride, I saw you on that stage. That's as happy as I've ever seen you. I think you like being adored."

"You callin' me self-absorbed?"

"No, I'm just sayin' that's how you know you're loved. Hell, you said you kept approaching mares in town. Be patient. Let one of ‘em come to you, so you know they're interested."

He stated flatly, "Stallions court mares, Braeburn."

I channeled Soarin' and let out a gay, affected, "Ugh! What is it with you straights?" That got a laugh from him. I continued normally, "Take it from me, Pride. Love doesn't follow rules. Sometimes you gotta let it happen."

He chuckled. "Hypocrite."

"Hey!"

"C'mon, Braeburn. I saw you starin’ at that Wonderbolt poster."

I groaned. "Are y'all conspiring to get me back together with Soarin'?"

"Naw. We just hear the way you talk about him." He sat back. "But thank you. I don't do well sittin’ on my hooves, but I appreciate the perspective.

"You ain't just waitin', Pride. You're practicin'. Trust me: it'll pay off, and you'll find somepony whose cheers mean more than a club full of admirers."

"Thanks, Brae." Pride gnawed on his lip. "Can I ask one more question?"

"Shoot, Pride."

"This…” His brain flopped around his head looking for the right word. “...experience with Violet. It don't make me and Grassy gay, does it?"

I explained that he could have Grassy inside him while they made out, and even that wouldn't necessarily mean they were gay. Pride didn't seem convinced, but at least he was more relaxed.

The cabs arrived at the same time, and the guys were all too giddy to get upstairs. Grassy had lipstick on his cheek already. We rushed to the room, and the elevator attendant couldn't hide his little eye roll.

As soon as the door opened, I silently thanked Rarity again, because both mares were impressed. Trail was quick to scoop up Silver and start kissing her neck. "Have fun, colts," he said as they disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

"Oh, they shall," Violet called back. "Let's go, you two." She swayed into the other bedroom, and Pride and Grassy fell in step behind her like they were enchanted. They disappeared behind the door.

That left me. I pulled out the bed from the couch, and my ears burned. All of them started out quiet, but I heard Violet say, "Oh, they know what we're doing." Grassy squeaked, and so did the bed, and they were off to the races.

Is it weird that I sat there a while and listened? I found myself smiling like a perv and mumbling, "Yeah, get it, colts," while I polished off a leftover bottle of wine from that morning.

The noises finally got me going, and I couldn't wait longer, so I called in my order for one glazed doughnut, only to hear Gallant on the other end say, "Right away, sir."

I sat on the bed, giddy as my friends had been, and Gallant didn't keep me waiting. I heard his hoofsteps and was already up and at the door when he started knocking. He jumped a bit when I opened the door, but he quickly recovered. "Your food, sir." He had one under a cloche.

I smiled. "Now, that ain't what I ordered at all. Do I gotta show you how to glaze a doughnut myself?"

He bowed politely. "It would be my pleasure, sir."

"Good. C'mere." I wrapped him around the neck and practically dragged him in.

We started tearing our clothes off, when he laughed into our kiss. "Apologies, but it sounds like your friends are having a good night as well."

I kissed him again. "Not as good as we're gonna have."

We made out a while longer, and I nipped at his neck while he made sure his clothes were folded. He set a hoof on my chest, and…

…

He asked, "I'm terribly sorry, but it's been bothering me: you're not seeing anypony, are you?"

I tried not to let it get me down or take me out of the moment. "Naw. Why do you ask?"

"Call it intuition. I… how to put this delicately… I believe I’ve seen you in the papers. You’re the Braeburn that was dating Soarin’ Windsong. I wouldn't want to be an accessory to an affair. Are you…?"

I told him…

I told him, "Certainly not. I ain't a cheater. We, uh, broke up a couple months ago."

He smiled and didn’t waste any more time. "Then show me what a fool he is for letting you go."

Gallant gave himself to me, and I took him to town on that bed. Like I said, there wasn't much of a connection, but damn was it fun. It wasn't just the sex, but knowing I was doing something with my buddies, in a way. We were all discovering something new and primal, and we'd gotten there together, learning from each other the whole way. Ha! Is it weird to say that I grew closer to my friends while I had my way with a Canterlot stallion? That fun lasted a good long while, and I felt content.

…until we took a break, and we both noticed something. Gallant panted under me and asked, "Is it… unnervingly quiet?"

Panting just as hard, I slowly turned my head towards the bedrooms, where I saw three sets of eyes staring at me through cracks in the door. "Dammit, guys!"

I tried to, uh, disengage from Gallant, but he held me to his chest. "Oh, let them get educated."

"Not you, too!" I snorted at my friends. "What the–"

"You said we could watch!" Grassy blurted out.

"I what!?"

Pride cleared his throat. "You did. On the train."

My brain popped like a jar of canned jelly. "That was a joke!!!"

"Oh! Uh…"

Trail peeped, "You seem pretty good at it."

Gallant let his head hang upside-down off the end of the bed. "Oh, he’s marvelous!" He winked at me.

My face must have been redder than a stop sign. I picked up a pillow and threw it at Pride with a small laugh, because what else can you do? "Aw, go back to your mares, ya' perverts."

The doors slammed shut, and it wasn't long before I heard squeaking beds again.

I shook my head. "Those dolts. Sorry about them."

Gallant stroked my chest. "Oh, I don't mind some exhibitionism every once in a while. Allow me to take your mind off them."

"Don't you have to get back to work?"

Gallant smirked. He levitated the calling wire to his face, then mock-coughed. "Bowtie, it's terrible! I've fallen incredibly ill!"

I could hear a stallion groan on the other end. "Ech, fine, but you owe me."

"You're the best." He floated the wire back, looked up at me with bedroom eyes, and purred, "Now where were we…"

And, well, it would have been mighty impolite to refuse.

We all had our fun, and come sun-up, we said our goodbyes to our guests. Grassy was grinning ear to ear, Pride had a satisfied smile with just a hint of dawning realization, and Trail looked like he'd come from a four-hour massage. Silver and Violet looked mighty satisfied, too. Grassy asked for Violet’s address, and she politely explained that it didn’t work like that. I expected him to feel hurt, but nothing could get him down that morning.

Gallant gave me a big kiss, and I hugged him back and asked, "You okay keepin' this a one-night stand?"

"I prefer it. Though if you're still single next time you're in town, please do look me up."

"Absolutely. You take care of yourself." I squeezed his ass. One more long kiss, and he was gone.

It was wise of us not to bring much on the trip, because we'd have surely forgotten it at the hotel. Dead tired, smelly (Pride was right: no time for a shower), and grinning like we'd gotten away with something, we said goodbye to the hotel and made our agonizing trek to the train station.

We settled into our sleeper car, a small room with two sets of bunks. Pride snuck off to the food car to get something, and he came back with four big glasses of bourbon. “One more for the road, y’all. Gotta make a toast, too.”

Grassy furrowed his eyes. “Braeburn’s trying to quit, Pride. Fun’s fun, but you don’t need to shove it down his throat.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard him be so direct.

Pride flushed. “Oh. Sorry.”

I held up a hoof. “It’ll be okay this time. I appreciate it, Grassy. I really do, and I hope you’ll keep me to my promises. For a celebration like this, though? I’m okay being one of the guys.” Grassy smiled back.

The four of us sat on the bottom two bunks: me and Pride facing Grassy and Trail. Pride passed out the drinks. “Who wants to start?”

I chuckled. “You want last word, don’t ya’?”

Pride’s mouth opened, but he shook his head. “You got me.”

Trail fiddled with his drink. “Before that, though…” He took a deep breath and looked at me. His shoulders were rolled forward again, but not nearly as much as usual. “I just wanna say: you’ve got my vote, Braeburn.”

The rest of us paused. I said, “Well, thank you, Trail. That means a lot.”

“I’m serious. This weekend? I needed this.”

“Again, it was Pride’s idea, Trail.”

“Yeah, and I’ll get to him in a second, but skies alive, Braeburn. I… I thought the buffalo thing was going to eat me alive forever. Seeing you continuing on when you’re sad? Well, that was inspirational.” He turned to Grassy. “And that goes for you, too.”

“Me?” Grassy sat up.

“Yeah. You came out of your shell this weekend. Showed me how to do it again. And Pride, don’t think I’ve forgotten how hard you pushed me to come here. I owe you all a lot.”

Pride looked down and spun his glass. “Thanks, Trail. I… owe you guys a lot, too.” He looked out the window. “Appleloosa feels small sometimes, and I just… feel like I’m gonna be forgotten, like I’m an outsider. An endnote at the back of the book.”

Grassy went wide-eyed. “You!?”

“Yeah. Me.” He looked at each of us in turn. “Spendin’ time with y’all makes it a lot less lonely. Gives me hope for a lot of happiness. Thank you for it.”

Grassy was getting weepy-eyed. “You guys are the best friends I’ve ever had, and I mean that. Thank you for letting me tag along.”

Trail smiled. “No tagging along about it, Grassy. You’re one of us.”

“Absolutely,” I added.

Pride smirked and tipped his glass. “And a real stallion now, with a hell of a story to tell.”

Trail whispered, “And later, I wanna hear you tell that story, Grassy, in your own words.”

Grassy wiped a tear from his eye. “Thanks guys.”

I reached over and patted Grassy on the knee. “And I can’t thank you enough for watchin’ out for me. I get so wrapped up in what I need to do, it helps to know somepony has my back. And Pride, you’re a rock in this community and my life. From the train escape to knockin’ some sense into me this weekend. I appreciate you more than you know. And Trail…” We shared a look. “You’re such an important part of this town, and I’d be lost without you, figuratively and literally. It’s helped me to see you this weekend, too. Thanks for the guidance.”

His shoulders relaxed back. “You’re welcome, Braeburn. And here’s a little more for you: talk to Soarin’ again.”

“Heh!” My heart jumped to my throat. “I don’t… We broke… I don’t know, Trail.”

“I do,” Pride laughed. “Braeburn, it’s clear how much you still love him.”

“Pride, I’m trying to move on.”

His voice sounded like mine for a moment. “But is that what you really want?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Look, Braeburn, I’m no master at affairs of the heart, but seein’ you two? Even the little bit I did? Maybe the circumstances didn’t work out the first time, but that doesn’t mean you need to give up.”

In his seat, Grassy shifted to face me. “And would you tell any of us to quit if we wanted something important?”

Trail asked, “So what do you want?”

I looked out the window and let myself really feel what I wanted in my heart. I closed my eyes, and the words came to me as plain as day. “Yeah. You’re right. I want to be with Soarin’.”

There weren’t cheers or hoots or hollers this time. It was better than that. Pride reached around my shoulders and gave me a hug. Trail and Grassy stood up and did the same. We shared a deep breath and held each other, and when it felt right, we shared one more squeeze and returned to our seats.

Pride nodded at us. “Well, I’m tired as all hell, but I just wanna say thank you again, colts.” He finally raised his glass. “To our first colts’ weekend, but not our last.”

Trail followed suit. “To bright futures and second chances.”

Grassy, too, and the relief in his voice was palpable. “To being one of the guys.”

In that moment, I felt something change in me, similar but even more powerful than what I’d been feeling all weekend. It was like my heart had switched to the other side of my chest. I still didn’t know what it was, but I raised my glass and said what felt right. “To all of us, stronger together.”

We clinked our glasses and, wordlessly, drank our bourbon in just a few gulps.

And… I don’t remember it. I think Pride said he’d gotten top-shelf, but the flavor, the burn, all of it just washed down my throat like it was nothing. The alcohol was so much less important than the gesture, and it paled in comparison to the warmth and comfort I felt with my friends, my guys. I might as well have mimed the booze for the good it did me.

Grassy saw me staring at my empty glass. “You okay, Braeburn?”

Gently, I set the glass down on the floor. Empty. No booze at all. For most of my adult life, I would have been scrambling for an excuse to fill it again, but on that train, surrounded by my friends, the glass was innocuous. No siren call, nothing. And I started to realize what that shift had been. “I think that was my last drink.”

“Wow. Really?” Grassy leaned in.

Trail just nodded. “Good for you, then, Braeburn.”

Pride chuckled. “What, the weekend was so bad that it finally made you swear off booze?”

I swallowed. “The exact opposite, I think.” Thoughts tumbled in my head, but like a miracle, it felt like I’d tossed a puzzle into the air, only for the pieces to all land perfectly in place, forming a clear picture. I looked up at my friends and smiled. “I just don’t need it anymore.”

Comments

[Numinos]

That ending! Great chapter : )

[Just-A-Micro]

This was so nice and heart warming and I love it!