When a pony flees from his own family in the big city, how can he adjust to his new life?
Meet Fraid Script. Singer, lyricist, brother and refugee.
The relationship between his parents comes apart at the seams, and Fraid Script flees with his sister to escape the troubles that are bound to tear them apart afterward. They move to Maneton, where they're forced to adjust to life in a place they've never been in before. Regardless of the new environment, nopony gives up on their ambitions, and try to carry on as normally as possible.
With all this going on, how will Fraid Script survive in this new place? He knows nopony and is still in the middle of his education, meaning he still has a long way to go. We're here to observe his journey and see where he goes in this new life of his!
(This was originally a one-shot that I threw together when someone dared me to write a fanfic. At the time, I was not a member of the fandom, but I was an avid roleplayer and to this day believe I have potential as a writer. Seeing the old document rotting in the depths of my computer, I've decided to pick it up and add to it. Expect quite a bit more in the future, and please comment- I'd appreciate any advice you can offer!)
(Credit to Akie-Tara for the image. It doesn't hold much relevance in the beginning, but will make much more sense later in the story. Yes, there will be a LOT of Hollywood Undead referencing, and there might even be musical numbers, but I will be making an effort to keep this clean and profanity to a minimum. If a song comes up or is referenced, it will be linked.)
Music is a funny thing. For as long as life has existed
Fraid Script paused his typing. Was that really what he wanted to write? No, he couldn't come up with a way to conclude that thought, and so he backspaced out of it and started again.
Many philosophers have stated the power of the pen in reference to the sword. I like to think that it's not the pen in itself, but the spoken word that holds true power. An odd fact is that sound can carry a much more threatening...
'Threatening'? Maybe that wasn't the right word.
An odd fact is that sound can carry a much more tangible presence to it, making words an incredible weapon, even with the sword considered. This is proven further by the almost political potential of music, and how
Again, the sentence was left unconcluded, but this time not because of a spur of writer's block. It was at this point when Fraid Script's sister, Creed stepped into the room. At first glance, one couldn't tell that they were even related. While Fraid's coat was a bright cyan and his eyes were not far off, all with a black mane, his sister was a completely different story. Creed's fur was jet black, and her mane was a bright pink. Her eyes were no less out of place in the family tree, being a magenta that matched one of her darker highlights. The only similarity they really shared was that they were both pegasi.
Seeing his younger sister trot in reminded him of the situation they were in, not to mention the noise that he'd successfully blocked out until now. The two of them were currently on a train to Maneton, a town not too Manehattan. Though the two were similar in both name and locale, it was said that Maneton was much smaller, not to mention having a lower crime rate.
The reason they were heading there however, was not for some road trip or pleasure cruise. Their parents had been arguing nonstop over that past few months, and it had reached a climax the night before. Fraid knew they were going to split up after that, and didn’t give them the chance to argue for custody. Rather, he spared himself and his sister the fate of being caught in that little firefight and hopped a train out of town. Naturally, Maneton was his first choice, as he knew someone else who’d moved there a while back. Hopefully, his old friend wouldn’t have forgotten him over the years.
“What are you cooped up in here?” Creed asked, spotting him with his laptop. “They’ve got pancakes in the breakfast cart!” Fraid couldn’t help but smile at that. Even in a situation such as this, where he was resorting to writing essays to keep his mind off of things, she was just her cheerful old self, more concerned with his lack of pancake consumption than anything else. Her impenetrable cheer was one of the reasons he was so willing to protect her- There was no way he’d let failing parents ruin something that innocent.
Wait, pancakes? Breakfast? Fraid set his device to the side and slipped off of his bed, trotting over to the window, pulling the blinds to peek outside. Sure enough, Celestia’s sun was well above the horizon. Before he could question how he’d missed an entire night while fiddling with his computer, his adamant stomach cut him off, demanding some sort of substance.
“Alright, I’ll be out in a sec,” he conceded, returning to his computer. “Just let me save this.” One click and the ‘save as’ window was open. He brought his hooves to the keyboard before realizing…
What am I gonna name this?
A solid ten seconds of absolutely nothing later and Fraid decided that it wasn’t important enough. He mashed a few keys down, titling the document a tasteful ‘yguvjnmh’ before closing the device and setting it aside. “Pancakes it is!” he declared. Even if it was just to another train car, he did need to get out.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
“…Well, here we are.”
Fraid took another look at the address he’d scribbled down. Though his friend hadn’t actually posted on Muzzlebook in the longest time, he’d been kind enough to update his bio as he moved through at least four different residences in three years. The most recent update stated that this was his home, and he never knew his friend as a liar, so this was what he’d sought out, luggage and sister in tow.
The building before him was… Well, humble was one word that came to mind. It was a two-part townhouse crammed in between two large apartment buildings. One residence was stacked on top of the other, and the Muzzlebook page said the bottom belonged to his friend. Letting Creed rest by the sidewalk, Fraid stepped up to the door, raising a hoof to knock on the oak that sealed the entrance.
It took a moment to get a response, and another for it to become significant. It was slow, sluggish, the pony on the other side obviously not having expected a visitor. Eventually, the door was unlatched and pulled open, though only the slightest bit. Through the small opening, he could see a glimpse of a white muzzle, and a single gray eye.
All was silent for a few moments, that is until that eye went wide with unmistakable surprise and the pony on the other side swung the door open, all apprehension forgotten.
“Fraid!?”
“Charlie?”
“The one and only.”
“You look like-“
“Crap. I know.” For the first time that Fraid could remember, Charlie looked distressed, something he was not used to seeing. When the two had met years before, the white Pegasus had been that invincible ‘cool colt’ that nopony could touch if he didn’t want them to. He’d been the big deal back then, and everypony saw him as the gangster of the school, and he reveled in the popularity. Now, he seemed disheveled. Broken. Much less confident.
But that was something for later, apparently, and Charlie quickly ushered the two refugees inside. “Now before you complain about the mess or break out some ‘old times’ speech, you get to tell me a few things,” he started, not giving Fraid the chance to speak. “First, why are you here? Second, how did you get here, and third, why is she here? You know she hates me!”
“First, she doesn’t hate you. I made that up so you’d stop bragging about how you were going to hit on her.” Fraid rolled his eyes, a bit disappointed that Charlie still believed that one. “As for how and why I’m here… Well, you called it. Parents got angry at each other again, and this time it didn’t go away. I didn’t want Creed to get caught up in a custody battle, so I brought us here.” He made sure to drop his voice as he went over that last part, not wanting his sister to know how much this was about her.
Charlie paused, obviously considering the situation he was placed in. “You’re our only option,” Fraid insisted, not wanted his friend to even think about rejecting them here. Just a glance around the room was enough to see that he was accustomed to a solo lifestyle, so adjusting might not be something he wanted to do. “We don’t have any other connections, and even if we did, I wouldn’t trust them as much as I do you. Besides, you kept saying you wished we could come with you, so… Here we are.”
The white Pegasus shook his head. “Look, man, I wanna help you out here, and if I had the choice, there’s no way I’d leave you hangin’, but I’m not really... stable. Financially.” The two hung their heads, facing the reality of the situation. Coming out here was a terrible idea, Fraid realized. How could he have assumed such a reckless pony would be prepared for this kind of thing? The way things were, it looked like the last of their money would have to go toward getting a train back to manehattan… Then they’d have to explain this to their parents, who’d surely divorce anyway, then they’d likely be split up among them, and-
“Wait.”
The two turned their heads at the sound of Creed’s voice. The Pegasus was searching through one of the pockets of her luggage bag, searching for something. Eventually, she pulled out a shining coin, tossing it toward the others. Fraid caught it between his hooves, inspecting the object closer up. “Is that silver?” Charlie asked, trying to get a look. “No… It’s platinum.” Fraid surprised himself with the conclusion, but that was what the markings on the bit indicated. “Creed, where’d you get this?”
“You think Mom married Father for his personality? He literally slept on thousands of the things!” she clarified. “Mom’s been taking from the safe under the bed for I-don’t-know-how-long. Well, one of them. The ‘inheritance’ one. I took the liberty of taking the rest of it before she could cheat us all out.” Fraid couldn’t help but hate both of his parents with this new revelation up in the air His father was apparently blessed bit-wise, his mother was a liar and a thief, and his sister, the naïve pony who he’d come to think of as significantly less intelligent, was more educated about the situation than he was…
…And he couldn’t be happier to have her with him.
He practically slammed the bit into Charlie’s hooves before trotting over and pulling his sister into a hug. He’d definitely owe her a milkshake after this. Not that he’d be paying for it, of course. “Now that we’ve got the ‘bits’ thing taken care of,” he continued once he’d broken his little moment, “Maybe you’ll change your mind..?” Fraid raised a brow at his friend, who was still looking over the bit in disbelief. Eventually, the Pegasus raised his head, a giddy smile on his face.
“I think your sister just saved both of us, dude!”
Fraid stood in the door and appreciated his work. Charlie had only one spare room, and it just so happened to be his ‘junk’ room. The group actually had to make an effort not to be swamped by miscellaneous objects falling out of the room when they’d first opened it. That, and the smell wasn’t particularly pleasant either. Though his friend was embarrassed that everypony had to see the condition of his home, Fraid was actually a bit pleased that the challenge was put in front of him. With the room being so messy, the duty fell to him to get the thing cleaned up. It took him hours, but he was glad to have the time to himself. He needed to plan his next move, after all.
And plan he did. Even though, they certainly had plenty of funding considering what Creed had liberated from their inheritance, he made it a point to think minimalistically. First on his shopping list was a bunk bed. He wasn’t too keen on using Charlie’s air mattress forever, and there wasn’t enough space to fit two beds. Oddly enough, there was already a closet and a dresser, seeing as this was meant to be a guest room, after all.
Next was food. When Charlie offered to get them food, he quickly retracted the offer after taking a look inside his refrigerator. That would have to change, and there was a chance Fraid would even invest in a food storage separate from Charlie’s. All in due time, though.
But that still left one thing that worried him more than anything: Education. Fraid Script was no fool, and so he was well aware that no amount of bits would last forever on its own. Expenses would get the best of them eventually, and there was no way they’d be able to survive on minimum wage. All three of them had graduated high school, but none with particularly flying colors, as ironic as that may seem. Charlie seemed to be doing… Well, he was getting by, but that wouldn’t work for three ponies in the same home. Thus, Fraid bookmarked a list of local schools on his laptop before getting to work in their room.
Speaking of which…
According to a clock he’d found and plugged in, it was now about eight at night, and the Pegasus was proud of his work. Charlie had stated quite clearly that anything in there was trash if he didn’t want it, so Fraid took the chance to throw together some improvised decorations while he was cleaning. The torn wallpaper was brightened up by an old pack of stickers he found- Something he figured Creed’s admittedly childish self would like. Old Hearth’s Warming garland was strung up around the window, and they even had a set of lights if they were feeling festive. At one point, he’d found an old carpet that he dusted off outside before placing it in the center of the floor. Strange how much green was managing to seep into this room, not even considering the lava lamp he’d placed on the dresser with his laptop. It was a convenient set up, really, as the room was fit with one of those weird pieces that had two sets of drawers on each side of a large gap, allowing for plenty of room. He’d have to get a stool for it at some point.
His little self-worship session was cut short as Charlie showed up at his side. It seemed like he was going to ask him something, but he quickly forgot as he caught sight of the room that had been trashed beforehoof. “Dang, man!” he commented. “You should’ve gone for an interior decorating major or something. You can make any room look good.” “That’s because it wasn’t a room before,” Fraid countered, unable to keep a smirk from playing across his face. “It was a trash bin.”
Charlie raised a hoof to scratch at the back of his neck. “Yeah… Sorry about leaving you with that. Me and Creed were out shopping while you were taking care of this, and we kinda got carried away. “Fraid raised a brow on that, but the white Pegasus cut him off before he could ask. “Hey, we got what you said! Bed, food, sheets, all that fun stuff. We didn’t go blowing any of the money, so don’t worry about any of that.” “What did you do?” Fraid insisted, fearing what his thick-skulled friend may have screwed up this time. “Well…”
“M.U. FOREVER! WOO!”
Fraid’s eye twitched, and his friend planted a hoof firmly in his face. Without bothering to wait for the explanation, he went to investigate what his sister was shouting about.
“What are you-“ Fraid stopped dead once he caught up to her. She was grinning ear-to-ear, her eyes blocked off by a set of shutter glasses. A glowstick was hooked around one hoof, and she was wearing a tee shirt that had ‘MU’ printed on the front in bold green letters.
“…What does that even-“
“I can’t see a thing.”
Fraid tore the glasses off her sister’s face, not in the mood for her shenanigans. “What happened, what are you wearing, and what in all Equestria is ‘M.U.’?”
His sister was unfazed by his obvious frustrations, and it’s likely she didn’t even notice it. “Well,” she began, “While me and Charlie were out shopping for the stuff you told us to get, we stumbled into this group of ponies about our age who were shopping for pretty much the same stuff. We asked them why they needed a bed, of all things, and they said they were renovating their new dorm at ‘M.U.’, so I asked, ‘What’s M.U.?’ and so they told us it’s this ‘Maneton University’ place, and as it turns out…” She sat on her haunches, throwing her hooves in the air. “MU IS AWESOME!”
“What in the name of Celestia is so special that you got a tee shirt?” Fraid asked, finding it difficult to believe her sister was brainwashed so easily.
“Because there was a stallion there who’s a singer.”
“…Your point?”
“I think you actually know him from somewhere…”
“Your point?”
“I think you remember Swing Tune.”
Fraid Script froze at the mention of that name. Swing Tune was a legend in his eyes- A street pony who’d picked himself up and used his musical talent to make a living before going under the radar under the guise of having what he wanted: a normal life. “So let me get this straight…” “Yeah.” “…You met Swing Tune…” “Yep.” “And you spoke to him…” “Uh-huh…” “And he goes to a university here?” “That, and the donates to the place regularly, says it’s done him good.”
Fraid spun on a hoof and trotted back to his room. Once there, he logged into his computer again and went onto his browser. While he waited for Ping to finish loading his search request for ‘Maneton University’, he opened his bookmarks and deleted the school page. He wouldn’t need it anymore.
“I still can’t believe you went with it so easily.”
Fraid Script smiled to himself as his sister commented on his willingness to apply for Maneton University for what might have been the seventh time since they’d climbed into their bunks that night. Fraid took the liberty of acquiring the upper half, of course. “Hey, it’s not like I dropped everything and said ‘yes’,” he countered. “I did have the sense to actually look in it. After seeing what they have to offer, I have to say Swing has some good taste.” It was true, he had to admit, that the school seemed like a great place for him to specialize, having four wings dedicated to different major career areas: Physical, Agricultural, Magical, and what really attracted him, arts.
It was no secret that Fraid was a musician. Since he was young, he was always writing poems and scripts, and even got a part in the production team for several community plays. Ponies always thought he’d get his Mark in writing, but oddly enough, such a thing never came. Until Charlie moved out of Manehattan, the two of them had been blankflanks together, and he sometimes wondered if they’d be doing that again now that they had met up.
The thought brought him to Creed’s Cutie Mark. Nopony had figured out exactly what the thing meant, nor had they discovered when exactly it showed up or what caused it. The Mark in question was a minimalistic image of a pink butterfly, more of an outline than anything. His guess was that it represented her ability to disregard reality, as she always seemed to have a way to be cheerful about something.
It was then that Fraid realized not only that his train of thought had gone off the rails and over a cliff, but he’d manage to miss the entirety of a question from Creed. “Sorry, what was that? I kind of zoned out for a moment…”
Creed snickered in the bunk below. “I asked which of us you think will be going to M.U.,” she clarified. “I mean, for all we know, none of us will even get in.” Fraid considered this, not having thought of the possibility of rejection before. The sheer thought brought forward more questions than he was willing to answer. Where would they go if they were rejected or kicked out? Would anypony take them at all? If all else failed, then how much would they have to cut back while they were working minimum wage?
He had a tendency to think too far ahead, and sometimes it scared him the kind of worst-case scenarios he came up with.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he lied. In reality, he couldn’t be sure of anything, not with these thoughts in mind. Creed made no sound besides a light shuffling, likely getting comfortable before the two finally let themselves drift to sleep…
About a week after that discussion, Fraid Script was walking with Charlie along Maneton’s streets, on their way to the very building that had been the subject of conversation for quite a while: Maneton University. When Fraid searched the website for a way to apply, he’d found that it was actually an in-person event, and he was required to attend an audition at the school itself. The entire thing seemed a lot more like a job interview than an application to a University, but thinking about it again, he had to agree that a school so popular would definitely have to take a businesslike approach to things like this.
When the two arrived on campus, however, they were surprised to find that in front of the building was what looked like a battalion of Royal Guard soldiers in formation. “What’s the Guard doing here?” Fraid asked nopony in particular.
“You ain’t looking at the Guard, bud,” a voice to his side corrected him. A turn of the head revealed who had spoken to them, a gray Earth stallion. He was standing parallel with them, so it was easy to see the image of a syringe decorating his flank. “That’s the J-G-T-C,” he explained to the two newcomers, “the ponies you hang ‘round when you wanna be Guard. What, you never heard of it?” Both Pegasi shook their heads. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” They nodded.
“Well, apps are over there if you want ‘em, and if you’re already in, orientation’s in ‘bout an hour with the GTC.” The stranger pointed to one of the many buildings lining the campus before directing his hoof to the battalion of wannabe guardsponies. “Wait,” Charlie spoke up, “If orientation is in an hour, why are they forming up now?” “Oh, they’re always early,” came the simple response. Charlie didn’t seem any less confused, but he didn’t push it.
“Anyway, apps don’t start for a while… You can call me Doc, by the way.” “Why ‘Doc’?” Fraid couldn’t help but ask. “Just trust me when I say it’s better than the real deal.” The blue Pegasus shrugged it off as just another personal quirk. Everypony had their own.
“So what’re you here to apply for?” Doc asked. “I know it ain’t the Corps... Medical? Sports?” “Actually,” Fraid took the wheel of the discussion, “I’m here for the musical program, and Charlie’s… Well, I don’t know what he does. What are you signing up for?” The Pegasus in questioned seemed surprised that he’d been asked the question. “Me? I actually wasn’t going to really… You know, apply. I’m just here to keep you company, remember?”
That caught Fraid off guard. Not once had he considered that Charlie wasn’t coming with him. Maybe they weren’t going to tear society a new one together after all. Not like he’d let his partner stay out of this now, though…
“Ooohhh no, you are signing up,” he insisted, poking Charlie’s chest with a hoof. “We both need this, and if Creed can see that, I’m pretty sure you can too… Hey, speaking of which, where is she? I thought she’d be meeting us-“
“I’m right here, of course!”
All three of them nearly jumped out of their fur at that one, turning to see that Fraid’s sister was, in fact, standing directly behind them. “Jeez, quit being so quiet when you walk!” Charlie complained. “It’s weird!” Fraid, however, simply shook his head at his sibling’s antics. “So where were you?” he asked, once Charlie saw fit to stop whining. “Auditions,” she replied simply. “And you’ll be glad to know I passed.”
It was then that an acne-ridden colt in a far-from-flattering bellhop outfit arrived, visibly struggling to push a large cart loaded with various boxes, each with an odd symbol on the side. One could swear it looked just like- “You got into the GTC?” Doc’s flabbergasted reaction was enough to confirm Fraid’s suspicions that the symbol on the side was, indeed, the one he’d seen on the GTC cadets, a replica of Celestia’s cutie mark with a few words in foreign characters lining the inside.
“GTC? I didn’t know you were into military stuff,” Fraid pointed out. His sister had never shown an interest, and now she was signing up for a training corps? “Well, it’s not really the worst line of work,” Creed went on, “And it’s something I can agree with. Things get done, and ponies are fair to each other about titles and whatnot… That, and the uniform’s pretty cool too.”
Fraid wanted to argue, to say that it wasn’t the kind of thing she’d be suited for, but he decided against it. She obviously had some talent in it, if she was accepted, and if it yielded job opportunities, then it was the kind of thing they’d need. It was also a bit less selfish than his own ambitions, but he didn’t bother to dwell too long on that particular detail.
As promised, Fraid didn’t press her any further, and the group simply discussed possibilities in the school until the next round of applications started. Apparently, Doc had earned his nickname as well as his Cutie Mark through his interest in medical studies, and he planned to get a job along the lines of creating medicines. Fraid was sure the would-be doctor saw the blank spot on his own hip, but he didn’t mention it.
Eventually, somepony emerged from the entrance of the building and shouted, “Next!” Even though it was supposedly without direction toward anypony in particular, she was staring at the group with a look that said, ‘somepony had better get their flank in here before they lose their chance.’ Fraid immediately turned to Charlie, who seemed legitimately confused as the others followed the example. Something clicked in his brain, and he got the message, wordlessly leaving his friends to join the staffmember who’d called over.
Ten minutes of waiting later, and he emerged from the audition building again, this time with a look of disappointment on his face.
