My Voice Ain't Loud and My Mind's a Wreck, but My Friends Keep Me Sane

by Dead_Mares

Ch. 1; A New Beginning

Booker sighed heavily and melted into the faded armchair. He'd flown the entire way to Ponyville from Vanhoover so he could avoid paying the train fare, and his muscles all felt like they'd been through a meat tenderizer. The chill autumn air certainly hadn't made his journey any more comfortable, and by the end of it he had begun to question whether or not the few bits he'd saved were worth the price his body paid. He also regretted not bringing any winter clothing with him. His hoodie certainly helped against the cold, but autumn was almost over and there was a sharp nip in the air that the thin fabric couldn't block.

"I hope I find a job soon," Booker muttered. After scouring the entire western half of Equestria, he'd begun to have his doubts on whether or not there really was a place for him after all. He'd discovered his talent for singing at a young age and he had hoped he would be able to make a living off of music, but after completely failing to make any form of success, he decided to give up and try to find a job he wasn't a complete failure in.

This also proved to be much more difficult than Booker had initially hoped, hence his presence in Ponyville, someplace where it probably wouldn't be very easy for an outsider to find work, especially one with his personality. It would take a good entrepreneur to make it big in a place like this; something he was not. He had no interest or passion for business. The only reason he had stopped by was because the small town was on his way to Canterlot, so he'd decided he might as well make the extra stop. He could use the time to rest.

Booker sighed to himself and glanced around the room he was staying in. He was in Ponyville's only hotel, a rather small and old building, but still well kept. If you asked him, it was more of an inn than a hotel given its size, but he'd decided to not say that to the owner.

Booker's room was much like the rest of the 'hotel'; aged and worn, but still very clean. The queen-sized bed was in the far corner of the room, next to the small bathroom, and a tiny kitchenette occupied the wall opposite the armchair he was sitting in. The room was cozy, and fairly priced, Booker had to admit. They could have charged outlandish prices, being the only place in Ponyville for travelers to stay, but the owner was apparently too nice for that.

A light click from the bathroom caught Booker's attention, and he sighed again as he hauled himself upright. The bathtub was the nicest perk of the hotel, and it was probably his favorite thing in the building. It was large enough for a grown stallion to stretch in, and it had an automatic shut-off feature that turned the water off once it reached the fill line. There'd also been a one-use bottle of bubble bath, which he had happily upended into the tub before letting it fill.

The door to the bathroom swung quietly shut behind Booker. The bathtub was comfortably full and housed a satisfying amount of fluffy bubbles. After a long day of flying, the hot water of the tub was incredibly alluring to his sore body.

Booker dropped his black hoodie and red bandana on the edge of the sink. He was about to turn and walk toward the tub, but stopped when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Sapphire eyes peeked out from behind a long, spiky maroon mane that framed his shockingly soft face. Many ponies described him as having a rather feminine appearance, and he'd even been mistaken as a mare on multiple occasions. He didn't mind too much, but it could be embarrassing at times, especially whenever somepony thought he'd walked into the wrong restroom.

There were a number of blemishes across Booker's body, and they were the main reason he always wore clothes out in public. He didn't like answering the questions that arose from other ponies, so covering up the marks was a much easier route.

The numerous scars along Booker's forelegs were easy enough to hide with hoodies or stockings depending on the temperature outside, but the long one across his neck was a different story. The pink line stood out sharply against his white smoke-colored fur, and ponies tended to ask about it a lot. He had been unsure of how to hide it at first, but he ultimately decided to just wear scarves and bandanas.

Booker shook his head to clear his thoughts. Even though most of the pain was gone, he still hated thinking about his past. He climbed into the large bathtub, sinking in deep enough that the water level rested comfortably just below his nostrils. "I need to just leave everything behind me. Once I find my true purpose, I'll finally be happy," he thought to himself. He sighed blissfully as he rested his head against the wall of the tub and relaxed his aching muscles. "Tomorrow I'll have a quick look around, then I'm gonna fly to Canterlot. I don't want to waste too much time in Ponyville. It's not like there's anything for me here, anyway."

---

"Oh my, that scarf is quite lovely. Where did you find it?"

Booker jumped in surprise at the voice that suddenly appeared behind him and nearly spilled cider all over himself. He'd been completely absorbed in reading the newest book in the Wings of Flame series while eating lunch at The Hay Burger, and he hadn't heard the pony walk up to him. That, and he was used to being invisible.

The voice belonged to an older white unicorn, roughly in her fifties if Booker had to guess. She had beautiful azure eyes, a flowing violet mane, and a cutie mark in the shape of three diamonds. She looked vaguely familiar, but Booker couldn't quite place his hoof on why.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you," the unicorn said, batting her eyelashes.

Booker shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout it," he said quietly. He lifted one end of the soft crimson cloth and felt his cheeks redden slightly. "Um, I actually made it."

The unicorn's eyes widened slightly in shock for a moment, something Booker was accustomed to by then. "Oh, you're a stallion! Terribly sorry, I thought you were a mare at first." She shook her head lightly and looked him over. "The scarf goes perfectly with your jacket. I don't suppose you made that, too?"

Booker glanced down at the jacket he was wearing. It was fairly simple, made of black wool with a crimson fleece lining on the inside to match his scarf and add a hint of color. The thing about it that was so different was the red cord running along the front in place of a zipper. It rain in and out of nickel grommets not unlike the lacing in boots, except instead of tying it off tightly in a loop at the top, he wore the jacket loosely, leaving the top few holes empty and allowing a strip of white fur to show down the front. Hidden knots near both ends of the cord kept the garment from opening up any more, keeping it in place without a large unsightly knot in the middle and making it look somewhat like an untied shoe.

"No, I did," Booker said awkwardly as he felt more heat rise to his cheeks. Telling other ponies he liked to sew always made him feel embarrassed.

The unicorn gasped in what seemed like an overly dramatic reaction and batted her eyelashes again. "You did? I never knew there were other seamsters here in Ponyville."

Booker shook his head. "It's just a hobby, and I don't live here."

"You're visiting? What brings you to our small town?"

"Just passing through while I look for work," Booker said. He decided against including the long details of his journey up to that point. Annoying other ponies wasn't something he liked to do.

"Work, you say? Hmm..." The unicorn rubbed her chin with one hoof for a moment, looking thoughtful. After a few seconds she looked back at Booker's jacket with an excited glint in her eyes and motioned to it. "May I?"

Booker scratched one foreleg subconsciously and glanced away. "Oh, um... I'd rather keep it on, if that's okay."

"That's quite alright." A knowing expression flashed briefly across the unicorns face, and Booker was worried for a moment that she might have suspicions about what was hidden beneath his jacket. The look was so brief that he wondered if he'd just imagined it, however, and the unicorn leaned her head in as if nothing had happened, glancing around at the more miniscule details on his jacket. "Hmm. Yes, not bad. It's not professional, but your stitching is neat, and I can see you put care into even the smallest of details."

The unicorn stood back upright and tapped her nose a couple times. "How would you like to work for me at my boutique here in Ponyville?"

Booker sucked in a breath, more than a little surprised. "Really? You're sure?"

The unicorn nodded confidently. "I'm certain. With a bit of training and practice, I think your potential could really shine. Your sense of style may not be in fashion, though I do like the principles behind it. Unique, but not showy. Bold, yet subtle. What do you say?"

Booker was stunned into silence for a moment. Ponyville was the last place he'd expected to find work, and he certainly hadn't expected whatever job he found to be as enjoyable as this. "Yeah, I'd love to."

"Wonderful! With all the boutiques I've opened across Equestria, I've been spending more and more time on the road and I don't like staying away from Ponyville for so long. My Canterlot Boutique has been especially busy as of late. Having somepony here all the time would be a huge relief. Is tomorrow morning a good time to start?"

"That works for me," Booker said.

"Excellent. Carousel Boutique is just down this road, heading away from the town square. I'll see you in the morning." With that the unicorn turned to go, but after a moment a thought seemed to strike her, and she turned back around, looking slightly embarrassed. "Oh, I've forgotten my manners and didn't introduce myself. So sorry about that. My name is Rarity."

"I'm Booker." His eyes went wide as he matched her name to her face and realized why she had looked so familiar. Rarity was only the most famed fashion designer in all of Equestria. How could he have forgotten? "Wait, the Rarity?"

Rarity nodded slightly. "Mhm. You've heard of me?"

"Of course. I don't know how I didn't recognize you."

"Well, I must admit I don't look quite this, erm, aged in most of my photos, shall we say," Rarity said sheepishly. "Anyway, do excuse me, but I'm meeting a friend here for lunch and she just arrived. I'd hate to keep her waiting."

Booker nodded to Rarity as she left, then turned back to his lunch and buried his face in his book to hide his excitement. "I can't believe it! I'm gonna work for one of my idols? This is crazy! Mom's gonna be as excited as I am about this." He finished off his lunch, gulped down the last of his Apple Farm cider, then left the restaurant to explore the town and get familiar with what was going to be his new home.

If it weren't for Booker's mom, he never would have started sewing as a foal. She'd taught him the basics at a young age and it had quickly become a favorite hobby of his. Of course, he'd been terrible at it when he first started, but after nearly fifteen years of off-and-on practice, he'd gotten quite proficient at it. In recent years these skills were mostly used to make complex costumes, but on occasion he would make an article of clothing if he either didn't feel like paying for one, or couldn't find one in the design he wanted.

"Well, I guess the next step is finding somewhere to live," Booker thought as he walked down the streets of Ponyville. He couldn't just live in a hotel for the next few months. As cheap as the room rate was, it would still add up fairly quickly. "I'm sure it won't take too long to find something. I got a job without even trying, so this should be easy."

---

It wasn't. After hours of searching Booker hadn't found a single place to live, and the sun was beginning to sink below the trees. There were only two houses for sale in all of Ponyville that he could find. One was positively massive and way out of his budget, the other was falling apart and needed more skill to repair than he had. And being such a small town, there wasn't a single apartment. Finding a home was proving to be extremely difficult.

"Ugh. My hooves are aching again," Booker thought as he sat down heavily in front of one of the town notice boards. This wasn't easy at all. He sighed to himself. It looked like he was going to have to spend a few more nights in that hotel.

Booker glanced up at the notice board for probably the third time that evening. It was fairly sparse; a notice about a possible nearby parasprite infestation, a couple of campaign adverts for ponies who were expecting the mayor to retire soon, and an open party invitation at someplace called 'Sugarcube Corner' written entirely in crayon. However, there was one new poster he hadn't noticed earlier, and he peered closely at it.

The poster showed a picture of four stallions in what looked like a band; a drummer, a bassist, and two guitarists. Along the top in large red text read, "New lead singer needed for the rock group 'My Chemical Friendship,' male voice preferred." This was followed by a pony's contact information in small lettering.

"Hey, I've heard of that group," Booker thought to himself. They were fairly new; they only had one album out and they had just finished their first tour recently, but Booker thought their music sounded pretty good. He also remembered thinking the singer sounded unenthusiastic at times, and wondered if that was the reason for him quitting.

"You thinking about joining?" a deep voice said suddenly.

Booker jumped in surprise for the second time that day and turned to see a charcoal-colored pony with pale blue eyes and a fairly long denim-colored mane. Booker also recognized him as the drummer from the poster he was just looking at. "Maybe."

"We could definitely use the talent," the unicorn said with a nod toward Booker's cutie mark; a pair of black tied eighth notes. "Our singer left a couple of weeks ago to pursue other interests."

Booker scratched the side of his neck anxiously. "I don't know. It seems like a lot of work."

The unicorn shook his head. "It's not too bad. Zero, Lucky, and I take care of most of the behind the scenes work. All we need you to do is sing."

Booker hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what he wanted to do, and the unicorn jerked his head down one of the roads. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. That might change your mind." He headed off down the street, and after a short delay, Booker followed.

The two of them walked down the streets of Ponyville, occasionally passing other ponies in the fading light. They walked in silence for a few minutes, but the unicorn broke the silence after a while. "I'm Charcoal Dust, by the way. You can just call me Charcoal."

Booker glanced at Charcoal. "I'm Booker."

"Have you been singing for long?"

Booker nodded. "I was in choir for seven years in school."

Charcoal smiled at a passing pony as they waved to him. "That long, huh? Did you go to any competitions?"

"A few. I got twenty-third out of about two hundred ponies my senior year of high school."

Charcoal raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise. "That's not bad. Zero will still probably want to hear you sing, though. What city are you from? I don't recall anypony from around here entering a competition that large."

"I'm from Maresville. It's just outside of Baltimare," Booker said. He didn't like singing alone in front of other ponies since it always made him feel awkward, but he'd gotten fairly used to it over the years.

"I think we passed by that place on tour, when we visited Baltimare. Didn't go in, though." Charcoal stopped walking and turned toward a decent sized two-story house. It was a good hundred meters from the next closest house, and trees lines the far wall. Booker could faintly hear the sound of an electric guitar coming from the building. "This is it. We practice here, and it's also where Zero lives. It feels more like home to me than my actual home," Charcoal said with a small smile. He led the way to the front door, walked up the three steps, and swung the wooden door open.

Inside the house, Booker saw a lot more furniture than he had initially expected. There were two large couches and three reclining chairs lining the walls of a big living space, and a circular glass table in the middle of the floor. A heavy looking door was set in the right wall, a doorway on the far wall led into what looked like the kitchen, and a set of stairs on the left led to the second story.

On the furniture, there were three earth ponies seated. The first pony, who Booker assumed to be the source of the music he had heard, was somewhat short with a pale orange coat, bright yellow eyes, and a short, fire-colored mane. He was also riffing on a guitar, practicing a few difficult-sounding lines.

The remaining two ponies were each on one of the couches. The first one was a pale shade of green with paler green eyes and a muzzle-length mint-colored mane. He was sorting through a bunch of papers, which took up the rest of the couch he was on and half of the table. The other pony was on the remaining couch, lying on his back and staring at a half-full sheet of music. He had a steel blue coat, silver eyes, and a long white and sapphire two-tone mane.

The blue pony looked up from his music as the door opened. "Hey, Charcoal. You got all the fliers up?"

Charcoal nodded. "Yep, and I brought somepony with me. Everypony, meet Booker," he said as he walked through the door and stepped aside so Booker could enter.

As soon as Booker walked through the door, his anxiety levels shot up and he remembered why he hated meeting new groups of ponies. Having everypony's eyes on him was always nerve-racking.

The orange pony was the first from his seat, and he trotted happily over to Booker. "Hello! I'm Heatwave, one of the guitarists. You're gonna sing for us?"

Booker shrugged. "Maybe." Overenthusiastic ponies like this always made him feel on edge, and he never knew why.

"Slow down, Heatwave. We haven't even heard him yet," the green pony shouted from across the room. He smiled kindly at Booker. "I'm Tough Luck, but my friends call me Lucky. Ironically, I'm the most unlucky of the group," he said before turning back to the mass of papers.

"We gotta make a nickname for him. Can we call him New Blood?" Heatwave asked, completely ignoring Lucky's comment.

The blue pony sighed as he got up from the couch and walked over to them. "You can't force a nickname. It has to come naturally, or it's gonna suck." He stopped a few feet away and turned to Booker. "I'm Absolute Zero, but just call me Zero. So, you wanna join our group?"

"I'm not sure. It seems fun, but I just moved here and I kind of want to settle in for now," Booker said nervously.

"I told him meeting you guys might change his mind," Charcoal chimed in. "He's been singing a good few years, and he even placed in the top quarter in a high school competition."

Zero scratched his chin and looked Booker over. "If I'd have known you were coming, I would've locked Heatwave in the studio before you came in. He's really overbearing," he joked, ignoring the protest from Heatwave. "We can give you a couple weeks before you have to start showing up to practice with us. That should be enough time."

Booker nodded, half to himself. He really enjoyed singing, and he wasn't sure if there would be many other opportunities for him to do so in a group that met more than once a week. He'd hate to lose touch with a skill he loved so much. Also, he always had a tough time making friends, and this seemed like a really good opportunity to do so. With the exception of Heatwave, they all seemed like ponies he could enjoy being around. He was just a little worried about how much effort it would take, and he was also worried his skills wouldn't be enough. He'd always doubted what he could do, even with compliments from other ponies. "That's tempting," he said hesitantly after a moment.

"Why not sleep on it? That way you don't feel pressured into making a decision immediately," Zero said. "Being in a band is a bunch of work, but we have a lot of fun doing it."

"Sure, I can think about it."

"Sounds good. Just stop by tomorrow evening and give us your answer then. Do you know your way back home from here? I know we're way at the edge of town," Zero asked.

Booker scratched the side of his neck and thought for a moment. "Kind of? I'm staying at the hotel right now."

"You don't have a place to live yet? Hmm..." Zero tapped his chin and looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "Tell you what. If you agree to join us, I'll let you stay in my guest bedroom until you can get your own place. No rent. All you gotta do is sing for us."

"Can I still think about it?" Booker asked. That was a very appealing deal, but he didn't want to rush into things and make a big decision like that without thinking about it first.

Zero nodded. "Of course. We'll see you tomorrow, then. If you decide you want to join, we'll have you sing a few lines if that's okay." He reached over and opened the door before turning to Charcoal. "Do you mind showing him how to get to the hotel?"

"Not at all." Charcoal led the way outside, and Booker waved a goodbye to Heatwave and Lucky. The latter of the two only briefly looked up before turning back to the papers, and Booker got the feeling he was normally very busy.

Before long they reached their destination, and after saying goodbye to Charcoal and paying the pony at the front desk for one more night, Booker walked through the door into his hotel room and shut the door behind him. "Hmm. So that was certainly an eventful day," he thought as he stripped from his clothes and sat down on the armchair, taking a break to just let his mind wander.

The more Booker thought about it, the more enticing Zero's offer became. Sure, being in a band in addition to his job would be a lot of work, but would it really feel like work? He enjoyed singing more than almost anything, and doing it with a group of ponies who seemed fun to be around would make it even better. To top it all off, he'd get a temporary place to stay, and it wouldn't cost him a single bit.

"I think that's a plan, then," Booker thought, smiling to himself. He got the feeling this was one of the most important decisions he'd ever make, and he couldn't explain how he knew, but he was certain accepting would lead to a vast improvement in his life. "I can't wait to tell everypony back home about this!"