Chapter 1

“Well, that should be all!”

I didn’t know how much time had passed exactly since Fresh Coat had started her work painting my wall, but by the time she was done the bright light of the morning sun outside had vanished turning the day sky into a nightly dark blue. Clouds had also formed over Manehattan, creating a severe thunderstorm that echoed as rain pattered against the window of my living space. Occasionally lightening struck elsewhere outside leaving the rolling thunder to shake buildings themselves. Truly a night in which I was glad to be inside.

Fresh Coat gave a short, but pleased sigh as her magic lowered her paintbrush to the bucket. “See?” she said, winking at me as her head slowly swiveled from her freshly done work to me. “I told you I’m a professional.”

“Yeah…” I muttered, shaking my head to free myself from the trance-like state that watching her paint my wall had left me in. I looked up letting my gaze wander over the freshly whitened wall. Indeed the painter had done an excellent job. “Yeah, I-I guess you’re right.”

Placing both the paintbrush and bucket next to the front door Fresh Coat picked herself up and with a sly, somewhat devious grin on her face, began walking towards me. “So…” she drew out acting as unsure as I really was. I felt my heart beat a little faster as her eyes once again went into full bedroom-mode. “What should we do now?” She coyly asked as she took a seat rather close to me on the floor with an unmistakable mischievous, mostly sexual smile on her face.

“Uuuuhhh…”

Once again I was at a loss for words. My gaze wandering from her eyes down her face, her neck, and finally her body. Both her beige coat and her dark gray mane were covered in white splotches, some already dried in, some so fresh they were still running down her side as if to draw my eyes to the point of interest.

“Hmm?” Fresh Coat inquired, softly resting a hoof on my shoulder, rubbing her head against mine, leaving a few white stains on the side of my face as she oh so subtly inquired.

“You, uhh…” I hesitantly brought out. “You … might want to get cleaned up.” I swallowed as I felt her embrace leave me for a moment only for her gaze to look down on me with challenging grin. “You got a little…” I bit my lip as I tapped my face in the general location she had stained paint. “...m-messy.”

“You think so?” Fresh Coat asked with a soft giggle. She picked herself up and began to slowly pace around me as I awkwardly sat there like a colt who walked into a political argument at the wrong time. I could feel a shiver run through my body as her butt touched my backside, and I swear she pressed it against me on purpose. “Well then…” she stopped. Suddenly her hoof reached out, grabbing mine. “Why don’t you help me?” she asked as she began to tug me along.

I lost my voice just hearing those words leaving me to barely even manage questioning her with an audible ‘help?’ However even then it was more like a quiet squeak. One I think she heard.

I coughed in an attempt cover it up, and in a much more firm tone I reiterated asking, “help?”

“Well, I did make your fur dirty didn’t I?” she cooed as she circled back to the front of me. “Perhaps you can show me a thing or two about cleanliness.” With her magenta eyes staring into mine as she rested a soft gentle hoof against my muzzle, she smiled, leaned in and whispered into my ear, “mind giving me a lesson?”

I don’t think there was any combination of words to put straight just how lost for words I was at that moment. My chest tightened and my breath held as I became sexually petrified, only being able to stare off into the distance with a high pitched internally silent scream that resonated from within with my mind as sheer panic began to well from within inside me.

She wanted to rut. I wanted to rut. That cheesy pickup line was clear that she wanted to rut. But… I didn’t… know. I never exactly ‘rutted’ a mare let alone met one so out-of-the-blue willing to. The part where my sexual fantasy became reality and embodied within her was just too sudden. I simply thought she was flirt but no she was serious. She was sex levels of serious.

Like, mother of Celestia, what whats going on?

When I had hired a professional painter, it had been with the intention to get help painting my wall. Never had I expected the painter to be a cute, attractive mare. Never had I expected her to be so… lusty.

And never, never ever had I expected that I would be just a word away from what would probably be some of the best sex I would ever have for a long time. All I had to say was yes. All it would take for her to pounce on me like an animal was for me to say one simple word.

And yet, I didn’t.

Despite the sexual tension in the air, despite the overwhelming desire to give in and let her have her way with me, and despite my body’s reaction to her teasing which was impossible to miss, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.

Yes, I would probably never have an opportunity like this ever again, and I wouldn’t have hesitated one second had I gotten an offer like this from anyone else, but with Fresh Coat, things were … different.

True, I hadn’t known her for more than a few hours and we had barely exchanged more than fifty words since we had met, but there was something about her that made me feel something.

And that feeling surely wasn’t coming from between my legs.

If thirteen-year-old me would have been here to see that I was about to step back from sex with a mare that was so desperately trying to get in my literal pants, I’m sure he would have kicked me in the testicles. Heck, I was sure future-me would kick me in the testicles for what I would do next, having passed on such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but still…

I drew in a sharp breath, forcing my eyes shut, then opened my mouth and gave a muffled and barely audible “No.”

That made Fresh Coat’s formerly smooth-as-silk body go rigid for just a moment. “What?” she asked, turning her head towards me, raising a single eyebrow.

“I…” I muttered, biting my lip, then looked to the side in defeat. “I’d … rather not. T-thanks.”

Fresh Coat looked at me thunderstruck for only a moment, then replied with a hesitant, “Uhh, o-okay.” She stepped back from me and I could feel an unpleasant sensation of coldness spread across my side as the heat of her body left me as she stood back. “Are you sure?” she asked, now noticeably taken aback.

I clenched my teeth, once again fighting with myself. Cursing and giving myself a mental kick, I slowly made myself nod and force out a weak “Yes.”

“W-well…” Fresh Coat spoke up again, standing a few feet away from me, “Your call… I guess.” she paused and briefly as only fidget with her hooves out of habit. “Can I…” she stuttered, just about hard as I did, being so caught off guard as I just was. “Could I still use your shower?”

I gave a weak nod as I stared off and into the ground somewhat shamefully. “Uh, yea, sure. It's all yours.”

“Okay.” she replied, still sounding baffled that I had denied her proposal, “I’ll be in the shower then.” I heard her turn around and walk out of my living room. Shortly before leaving, she stopped and looked my way again. “Join me if you want.” she muttered just loud enough for me to hear, though both of us knew that nothing of the sort would happen.

***

Fresh Coat stood under the shower head, hot water running down her back washing away the thick layer of paint that had collected on her fur throughout the hours she painted.

Normally, this would be her favorite part of the day: after a long, hard day of work, she would lean back, relax, and let the soothing warm water wash off both, the literal and physical weight that had collected on her body and mind during the day.

Feeling the hot, almost boiling sensation run over her skin, soaking her fur, making her toned muscles go limp was one of the best feelings in the world to her. But, speaking from experience, the only thing that would make this moment when the hot water hit her neck any better would be in the company of a stallion consensually and passionately willing to do anything she so pleased.

This time however, her endeavors had come to nothing, and she was left awkwardly alone in some stranger’s apartment showering all by herself.

And this time, she didn’t feel joy, pleasure, or even relief from her normally oh-so pleasant post-work shower.

No, all she could feel was … emptiness.

Fresh Coat lowered her head, looking at the water rushing past her hooves and down into the drain.

She had screwed up.

She had given this buck the show of a lifetime, had given him all the right signs, had pulled out all the stops, and still… Here she was. All alone.

Where had she gone wrong? She had worked with a lot of single stallions like him before, and all of them, all of them, had ended up joining her under the shower for some relaxation.

So what was it about this buck that he had rebuffed her like this? Could it be that she had been wrong about him? Could it just be that this buck was gay?

No. No, that couldn’t be. The way he had stared at her earlier left no doubt about both, his sexuality and interest in her.

But why had he stepped back? Had she been too straightforward? Had she intimidated him with her offensive tactics? Or, even worse, could it be that…

Fresh Coat drew in a sharp breath as, despite the hot water running down her sides, a shiver ran down her spine.

Was she losing her appeal? … Was she getting old?!

The painter could feel her legs going weak as she sank down to her haunches.

‘B-but … this couldn’t be!’ she thought to herself. She was barely over the age of twenty four, and she had scored with every stallion she had tried to seduce so far! Well, at least the ones with the right sexual preferences.

So why? Why in Celestia’s almighty name had he come out differently?

She closed her eyes, repeating the question in her mind a couple of times.

And suddenly, she could feel it. This one feeling she had done her best to keep banned from her mind for the past ten months.

She was feeling forlorn.

Not only that, she was feeling depressed.

In seconds the realization crossed her mind. She gave herself a mental kick, shook her head and stood straight up from the bath’s floor.

No, she wouldn’t let this happen. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel this feeling, ever again. So what if that uptight, stuffy buck didn’t want to rut her? She didn’t need him to be happy! She didn’t need anypony to be happy! She could just … go home, watch a good movie, read a book and give herself a happy ending without having to beg some buck for his junk!

With that conclusion, she turned off the water and pulled the shower curtain aside. Her horn lit up and her magic reached for a towel hanging ready on a rack opposite to the shower. Drying herself off, Fresh Coat once again shook her head as if to confirm her prior resolve.

So, what if she had suffered a rebuff? Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood? Not like this was the first time she had gotten rejected, right?

Suddenly she froze, and her body became rigid. That thought had struck a nerve.

Drawing in a quick breath and forcing her mouth shut to hold back the tears already welling up in her eyes, she shook her head.

No! No, she said she would never think about this… about him ever again! She had moved on with her life, and and had left these things behind. Because life, as she had concluded shortly after this fateful day, was too short to waste on thoughts like this.

With a deep, relieved sigh, Fresh Coat barred off the thought from her mind -hopefully for good- and proceeded to dry her mane.

“No big deal,” she muttered to herself as she hung up the towel and put on her ballcap that hung on the door to the bathroom. “You’ll just… play it cool… and walk out of here just like that. No fucks given, no awkward tension.”

And with that, she straightened herself back up again and brought the confident smile back to her face as she reached for the door handle and stepped out of the bathroom.

Prior to this, well, as a matter of fact a few hours ago, I had to admit that I had encountered probably the most beautiful mare I had ever seen.

And right now, I felt like I deserved the award for the fuck-up of the century. Maybe even the millennia. I would have sunken back to the ground if I hadn't already been sitting when the integrity of things came crashing down on my mind.

Had I really just declined hot, passionate shower sex with one of the sexiest, most beautiful ponies I had possibly ever seen?

I could feel myself nod weakly, as if even my body wanted to comment on the stupidity of my decision.

But why? For the love of Celestia, why!?

Fresh Coat had literally presented herself to me on a silver platter, and I -for once thinking with my brain instead of my meat- had counter-instinctively said no when Celestia very well knows any other stallion would have said yes!

But as much as I wanted to hate myself for that decision, deep down I knew that it had been the right thing to do, and that if given the chance, I would do it again.

Sure, her straightforward behavior had surprised me, but I normally was the last one to say no to a cute, sexy girl asking me to have sex with her.

However, with Fresh Coat, things seemed … different. A bit odd even.

I couldn’t put my hoof on it, but there was something about her. Something that made her special - and that something surely wasn’t her nearly perfect butt.

No, for some reason I had felt like ‘using’ her for a one-night-stand full of hot, passionate, but ultimately meaningless intercourse would have been wrong.

Sure, she had been the one suggesting it. Heck, she had been the one asking for it, but still. There was something about her that made her special in my eyes, and that made me want to keep her with me - for longer than just one night, no matter how intense, unforgettable and mind-blowing it might be.

I kept still for a moment, but then lifted my head as another thought crossed my mind: she had never said that she would only stay with me for one night! Yes, for all I knew, she might be looking for both, some quick fun and more!

A new wave of happiness came over me at the thought of her looking for more than just a quick shag, but was quickly replaced by another, even bigger wave of disillusionment as I came to the tragic conclusion that, no matter what she had had in mind, I wouldn’t find out because I had stupidly said no to her proposal.

Feeling my heart sink, I lowered my head again.

I had been offered paradise, and had said no.

Really, how much could one stallion fuck up in a single split second decision?

My negative thoughts were short-lived and seemed to vanish as I was reminded of the ambient hum of the waterfall pouring against the mare in my shower. In that moment a new realization popped into my mind: She was still here!

Maybe it wasn’t too late yet. Maybe I could still save this!

I got back to my hooves, a look of determination spreading across my face as I walked over to my bathroom door. But then I stopped and reflected for a moment. She wouldn’t want me now! At least not after having just shrugged her off like that.

Yes, for all I knew, she probably wouldn’t like me anymore. She could hate me, and I couldn’t even blame her for it.

I had to do something. I had to act, and I had to act now!

“Come on, think. Think!” I muttered to myself, rubbing a hoof against my temple. There had to be something I could do to save this evening; some sort of reason to convince her to stay the night with me instead.

I forced my eyes shut, my mind reeling as I tried to remember everything we had said to each other over the course of the afternoon, hoping to find something, anything I could say to make her stay.

My mind went back to what she had said to me shortly before she had started painting, and a voice in my head let out a scream of victory as I recalled her invitation.

“When I'm done, how about you'll help me get cleaned up, we'll grab a bite to eat and we ... y'know… see where things go?"

Her words echoed in my mind, and I could feel myself lighten up in an instant. This was it! We would go out, get something to eat together, and calm the waves.

A smile spread across my face, and I gave myself a mental pat on the shoulder for that idea.

Though my hubris was short-lived, as in that second, almost as if by command, a roaring thunder tore through the night, reminding me that it was still raining cats and dogs outside - not necessarily the best weather to go and get something to eat.

A cold shiver ran through my spine, and panic started to spread across my mind as I felt the time she’d taken to shower was beginning to dwindle. Soon she’d been out, it was like what? Twenty minutes average? Fresh Coat was almost done showering as my conclusion would entail. Meanwhile I was still standing here empty-hoofed.

“Okay, no big deal.” I said to myself in an attempt to calm my panicking mind. “We’ll just eat here. No big deal.”

Without any further thinking, I turned around and began to gallop into my kitchen to prepare us a dinner that would hopefully make her change her mind and make up for my tactless behavior earlier.

“Come on, you’re great at cooking!” I tried to encourage myself as I dashed into my kitchen. “You’ll just throw something together and it’ll all be good. Piece of cake!”

I stopped in front of my refrigerator, tucking the door open and peeking my head inside, ready to prepare a dinner worthy of a god.

Low-fat margarine, a half-eaten apple and a small, half-empty jar of pickles. The content of my fridge literally consisted of three things.

“Well, fuck.”

A few moments later, I placed two half-empty plates on my kitchen table. I had found some old toast in the back of my cupboard, and had used it to make ourselves some makeshift-sandwiches. Even though one probably had to turn a blind eye to them to even call these abominations sandwiches.

But regardless, I was pleased with my work. What other choice did I have, after all? The worst that could happen was she simply said no, something I had already accepted would occur even without the food.

As I prepped the table with our -well- my sorry excuse for a meal, the bathroom fan cut off, leaving only the air conditioning to fill in the ambience. But as for as nervous as I was, everything; the streets, the hum of the lights, the hustle and bustle of hooves and every other waking noise became drowned out simply by my paranoia.

There was no turning back. I could already hear her tear the towel from the rack, beginning to dry herself. It was only a matter of time before she would be done, come out and leave my apartment never to be seen again.

Granted, I would try my best to keep just that from happening.

Shaking my head, I tried to clear my mind from all these negative thoughts. I wanted to convince her to stay with me, and I was sure my chances would be better if I didn’t look like a drowned rat.

With that in mind, I cleared my throat, I took in a deep breath and cracked a smile which I hoped didn’t look as awkward as it felt to my face.

The handle knob twisted down the hallway and my heart began to quicken. The anxiety was building, I was too nervous, I didn’t know how to act. What should I do, what should I say?

‘Just be yourself,’ I remembered hearing from my mother several years ago.

‘NO!!!’ I internally shouted back as I hoofed myself across the muzzle. Being me meant being introverted, socially awkward, and completely and utterly unable to talk to mares at all! So being myself was not an option! Never!

The door creaked open, swinging inward from where I sat. ‘Smile,’ I told myself again as the lights to the bathroom turned off. ‘Be friendly,’ I thought as her hoof stepped outward from the doorway. ‘And be pleasant.’

I could feel my heart flutter as I watched Fresh Coat step out of the shower room, her hair running down her neck freely like a wild waterfall of black and dark gray. Shaking her head, causing her wet mane to fly into all directions like a carousel, she placed her ball cap on backwards and turned to look at me. The first thing she saw after turning my way fortunately was me and my weird nervous grin.

First thing I noticed was that her look of contempt and defiance immediately was replaced by a look of confusion.

The second thing she noticed was the weird experiments sitting on my table. One in front of me and the next across from me.

“H-hey,” I said, trying my best to break the silence in a sly-cool-guy kinda way, but it probably just came off as timid and a bit odd, which was exactly how I felt.

“Hi,” she returned. Walking forward she began to eye the sandwiches leaving me to pray she didn’t just walk out because of how poor they were. Lowering her head to get a better look she booped the plate with her nose, withdrew her head and asked, “What’s this?”

“SanDWiCheS!” I blurted, causing her to jump back in surprise. Now I was nervously beginning to sweat. I couldn’t really be this socially detached, could I? She probably thought I was a freak. Trying to play my last outburst off I said, “Would you like to eat? I, uh … I suppose you’re hungry.”

Now she just looked unsure or concerned, probably for me. “Well… I-I was planning on leaving. I have um… other clients and walls to paint.” She lowered her head, looking at my sandwich-abominations sitting on the table between us. “But the ... the sandwiches are, uh… nice,” she added with a forced smile.

‘Oh, here it comes.’ I thought to myself. I knew this part all too well. It was the part where they tried to let you down easy before running off without a second thought. I had seen this, more than once. In fact, I had seen this way too often.

And now I was about to make the same experience with a mare who was prettier than all others combined. I didn’t want that to happen. Not again! I wouldn’t let her leave me standing like this; I couldn’t!

So, struggling to find words, I said, “Wait! Wait just a minute!”

Fresh Coat, who already was in the process of turning away -probably for good- stopped and looked down at me with a glance that betrayed both, pity and annoyance. “Yes?” she asked, and I could see that she was struggling to hold back a cringe at my pathetic attempts.

“D-don’t you want to … eat?” I asked with trembling voice, “I’m sure you must be hungry.”

As if by command, I could hear a growl coming from the mare’s stomach, confirming my assumptions. Of course she was hungry. I was hungry as well. Both of us hadn’t eaten all day.

Blushing lightly, Fresh Coat turned her head away, holding a hoof against her growling stomach. “Thanks, but I’m … I’m good.” She lied to my face. “I don’t feel like eating.”

‘Not with you, anyway,’ I swear I could hear her add in her mind.

“A-are you sure?” I asked, my voice weak, wanting to break out in tears right there. “They’re … delicious.” This time it was me lying to her face.

Fresh Coat sighed, then turned her head to look me in the eyes. “Yes,” she said, and I swore I could feel my heart break right there that second. “Yes, I’m sure.”

My shoulders sank, and I sank back down into my chair. “Oh,” I said numbly. “Okay.”

“Yeah…” she replied, almost apologetically, “I’m sorry, but I…” She shook her head and turned away. “I gotta go.”

With that, she began to slowly slowly walk away, leaving me hanging on my chair. Limp like a sack of potatoes.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to break out in tears and shout out my frustration. I was stupid. I was so goddamned stupid! Why hadn’t I accepted her proposal!? Why had I let her down!? Heck, for all I knew, I might have gotten both the best sex of my life and more! But no! I had to back down like the little sissy I was!

Now all I could do was count my losses as I watched Fresh Coat walk out of my kitchen, through the doorframe and towards my apartment’s front door knowing that once she had stepped through it, I would never see her again.

I had fucked up. I had fucked up big time. Yes, this probably was the biggest fuck-up of my whole life.

Struggling to hold back tears of frustration, I whispered a soft “Goodbye.” as I watched Fresh Coat walk over to the entrance door, push down the knob, look to the side and… stop?

My heart skipped a beat as I watched her stop. The look of bitterness on her face melting and making way for one of surprise, followed by a thin smile.

She turned her head back, looking over to my pitiable form sitting at the kitchen table like a beaten dog. “Where did you get that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in what I hoped was a pleasant surprise.

“What?” I asked as my head shot upward as once again my heart began racing. “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head to the side, motioning me to join her - I didn’t need to be told twice. Jumping up from my chair like a little colt on Hearth’s Warming Eve, I trotted over to her, forgetting anything about acting ‘easy,’ ‘cool’ or ‘suave’.

I stood next to Fresh Coat in the hall, feeling my legs tremble with excitement, and turned my head to follow her gaze.

What I saw made me feel more confused than anything else, as she was pointing at a little portrait of a painting I had set against the wall a while back. Sure I intended to hang it up, but I had moved in just a few days ago and wanted to wait with hanging things up until the rest of my things had arrived.

The painting was of a … of a filly it appeared, and she was sitting on a little hill overlooking a valley filled with grass and a lake that shimmered in the sun with mountains covered in trees. I didn’t know too much about art, but at least in my eyes this was truly a masterpiece. Just from looking at it, I felt a deep relaxation coming over me. There wasn’t many places like this you could find in Equestria, as most of the nation was already discovered anyways.

I nodded my head in accordance to her question and answered, “yea…” I didn’t know what else to say other than that. What did she want anyway?

“Where did you get it?”

This I actually remembered as there wasn’t very many pieces of art I had bought or obtained prior. In fact this was the only one. “I uh,” I began, rubbing my muzzle in recollection of the whole process. “I… bought this thing at a little art expo that stopped by my hometown. They were going all over Equestria collecting and auctioning off art and such, and I found this,” I said as I picked it up, twisting her way so that she could see better.

“They sold it?” she asked a bit excitedly, her face lighting up. “For how much?”

Turning it back to myself I said, “Coupla’ bits.” Her look of mild enthusiasm faded to disappointment when I said this, but I didn’t see. “There was a lot of more…” I continued as I went into thought. “...recognized~ artist’s pieces auctioned too.”

“Nopony wanted it?” she asked and I was sure I heard a bit of hurt in her voice.

“Well… nopony knew of it really. I felt like I was the only one interested in it.” I explained, turned towards her with a slightly confused look. “Why would you ask?”

She met my gaze for a second, but then lowered her head and looked away. “N-nevermind.” she muttered, “Forget it. Forget I said anything at all.” Her shoulders sank and she turned away, turning towards my apartment’s entrance door and pushing down the handle.

“Wait!” I exclaimed, placing a hoof on her shoulder and holding her back. Had I said something wrong again? What had I …? But just then I caught onto her last comment. My ears perked a bit and I asked myself why she would be sad over the sell value of a random piece of art? But then I pieced a few things together:

First: She’s a painter and second: This is a piece of art that is done in paint.

A little bolt of enlightenment struck me then, and tapping her shoulder to draw in her attention I asked, “is… is this yours?”

Fresh Coat drew in a sharp breath, her look going to the ground - all the response I needed.

My look went back to the painting, an involuntary “Wow.” escaping my lips. “You painted this?” I asked, looking back at her.

She looked to the side, but after a moment of hesitation gave a curt nod.

“This…” I gasped, my look once again resting on the painting, “This is amazing!”

She just replied with a weak huff and a careless shrug. “No it’s not.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked with wide eyes. “This is…” I shook my head, at a loss of words. “Where did you learn to draw like this?”

Again Fresh Coat shrugged. “I dunno,” she said drably, “I kinda just … grew up with it.” She shook her head. “But really, it’s not good. The colors are off, the perspective is all wrong, and really...” She sighed giving a short chuckle. “A mountainside? Not very original.” Her gaze fell down and away and I could see the bitterness on her face, “At least that’s what they told me.”

“Please!” I said pointing to the painting. “It’s amazing, just the way it is! If that’s what you’re capable of then…” I cut myself off, noticing how the stream cold air coming from the open door was starting to cause her to shiver.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if what I might say next would be the right thing to say or simply scare her off entirely.

But then, looking at her bitter face, I curtly decided to take this leap of faith, looked her in the eyes and said, “it’s getting cold. Don’t you want to come inside?”

She hesitated for a moment or two. She then looked at me, and I could feel her fighting with herself. My heart sank, knowing that if she would decide to leave now, there would be nothing more I could say to change her mind.

But she didn’t. She lingered in the doorway longer and I could feel an incredible weight fall from my back. Her eyes met mine and a thin smile found its way onto her face. “Sure.” she said, softly closing the door and turning towards me, “Thanks.”

Chapter 2

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I felt a smile cross my face as I thought back to this evening. To be honest, I hadn’t expected her to actually stay with me. Past experiences had shown that taking the leap of faith was more likely to mess things up rather than anything good for-say. If anything it would have ended up with my face buried in the concrete with shattered everything, soul included.

However, this time it had worked. She had come back inside, and we had a very pleasant talk about art, drawing, painting and similar likes. Fresh Coat was a nice pony - probably one of the nicest I had met ever since moving to Manehatten. She was lighthearted, easy going, laid back - almost the exact opposite of most other ponies I had to deal with every day.

The evening had been truly pleasant, and I had surprised myself when I had, without any hesitation, asked if she would be up for having dinner together again. She had surprised me even more when she, with a genuine and happy smile on her face, had agreed and proposed meeting again next weekend.

Well, here I was. It was Friday afternoon, a few hours before sunset, and I was sitting in a small diner sitting aside one of Manehatten’s busiest main roads.

I was nervous. Partly because I didn’t know how things would go from here, partly because… I lifted my head, looking at the clock hung on the wall across the room… we had agreed to meet fifteen minutes ago. And she still hadn’t shown up.

Was she just being nice that night when I had admitted her art was good? Had she had second thoughts during the days I hadn't been able to see or even speak to her? Did she simply decide not to come?

It was only fifteen minutes, but soon it would be sixteen, then seventeen, then eighteen minutes later. Before I would even know it I would have been sitting here for three hours, drunk out of my mind on champagne and utterly heartbroken and embarrassed, but then I remembered waffle houses didn’t serve champagne.

That may have been my fantasies, but the reality was still clear. She may very well have just ditched me, and even though people here ate alone the thought of being left to dry still made me feel like I was that guy at the fancy restaurant with a reservation for two with a vacant empty seat just on the other side of that candle stick and wine glass.

“You ready to order yet?”

Looking up it was the same mare that had visited me when I had entered and it seemed she was making another round taking all the orders with a note pad and pen tucked between her ear and cake battered apron covering her chest.

“No, sorry,” I answered, doing my best not to be rude. “I just need a little longer to... mull over the menu options and all.”

She tilted her head and said, “But you haven’t even opened the menu yet.”

Looking to my right I remembered that I hadn't even touched it to begin with. It still sat there on its rack along with the salt and pepper shakers and a small jar of syrup.

I gave her a sheepish grin and said, “I’m waiting for somepony.”

“Is it a date?” she questioned.

I nodded, feeling a little giddy at the thought of calling our get-together a date.

“She late?” the mare asked in more flat tone of voice.

“Eh… Yea.” I admitted as I furtively began looking out the window and down the sidewalk hoping that I might see her coming even as we spoke.

“Is it your first date with her?”

With my mind half occupied with the commotion going on outside I half-consciously answered, “Well… more like my first date ever.” I then stiffened and snapped my head around to see her wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I'd ever seen a mare wear before. Had I really just told this mare my lack -or rather failure- of a social life summing it all up in one comment?

“Well hotshot,” she teased taking a step back. Thankfully not laughing out loud. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see if you’ve changed your mind.”

“Um,” I stammered, unable to come to grips with myself. “Eyea, sure.” I face-planted into the table. ‘I’m stupid, I’m stupid, I’m stupid!’ my mind moaned to me. 'Could have just said, ‘yea,’ you know? Didn’t have to mention your fucking shit dating life.’

Now my awkward presence in the restaurant felt even more oppressing, even though pretty much only the busser knew what I had said. Still, I genuinely felt like cutting my losses and walking out of the place before I could involuntarily make a bigger fool of myself.

After all, I only did my mane this morning. Not like I was actually looking forward to this or anything.

However just as I was about to scootch on out of my seat, the door’s hanging bell jingled and with it came the all too familiar mare I had only moments ago given up all hope for.

She stepped through the entrance, her eyes darted over the guests seated at the dozen tables searching for me. Moments later she spotted me, and I could feel my heart flutter as her face lit up in recognition.

She did remember our date! But more importantly she remembered me! -and my face!

Giddy I watched as she then walked in my direction, over to my table as I let my eyes slip over her body. Only with difficulties could I stop my jaw from dropping.

To be fair, so far I had gotten to know her as a rather relaxed, casual and easy-going pony. Her mane had always looked rather informal, the fact that she hadn’t been wearing any clothes, makeup or jewelry, safe for her trusty ballcap that just added to this impression.

Now, however, it felt like I was looking at an entirely different pony. The ballcap was gone and she wore a relaxed, carefree grin on her face.

She was wearing a dress. A simple black piece of clothing that engulfed her curvy body and ended just above her hooves. It looked nonchalant and far from fancy, but it was a dress nonetheless.

Her mane was loose now, hanging down both sides of her head like a pitch black waterfall, and I was sure I spotted a touch of makeup on her face as she came closer. My eyes were resting on her while she came walking into my direction, and I had to resist the urge to fan myself as my cheeks warmed up.

Mother of Celestia, she was looking magnificent!

“Hey.” Fresh Coat said as she stopped next to my table. The self-conscious, almost smug grin on her face was gone, now replaced by a thin, slightly embarrassed smile. “S-sorry for being late. I … took a little longer than expected … getting dressed ya know.”

“I could tell,” I noted as I admired every bit of her. “You look…” I paused, searching for a word to express the million thoughts running through my mind only to ultimately settled for, “amazing!”

I wasn’t very poetic.

She looked to the side, and I could feel my heart become weightless as I spotted a light blush on her face as it caught in the late morning sun. “Thanks.” she said, looking down at her outfit, “I … kinda … wanted to try out something new. I hope it’s okay.”

“It sure is!” I replied, still feeling slightly stunned just from looking at her. “Please…” I said, pointing a hoof at the seat opposite to me, “Have a seat.”

Fresh Coat replied with a soft nod, her sweet smile resting on me as she sat down.

“So…” she started after a moment of silence. “What about you? How have you been doing?”

“Great!” I replied without having to think about it. Indeed, the mere thought of being here, with her, made me feel more giddy than I had been in a while. “I’m doing great,” I repeated, “What about-”

“Well, would you look at that?” I was cut short by the waitress walking up to our table with a light chuckle. “Little Romeo has found his Juliet after all.” she gave a short laugh, turning her head to look at my ‘Juliet’. “What’s your name, girl?”

Fresh Coat looked at the waitress, giving her a somewhat forced-looking smile. “H-hey Cinnamon. Long time no see, huh?”

The smile slipped from the mare’s face, and her eyes widened with disbelief as she seemed to recognize who was sitting at the table with me. “Fresh Coat!?” she asked disbelievingly, “Is that you?”

“Yep.” Fresh Coat replied a little coyly and nodded her head, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Damn girl…” Cinnamon said amazed, looking the unicorn mare over, “You look … fancy!”

Again, Fresh Coat blushed lightly looking to her dress. “Thanks…” she muttered, “I … kinda just … felt like trying a new style.”

“Huh.” the waitress huffed, looking at me, then back at Fresh Coat as another one of these shit-eating grins grew on her face. “So Fresh Coat finally has a real date, huh? Heh...” she gave her a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Told you you can’t avert relationships forever. There’s always a point where feelings get involved, no point in fighting it.” She paused, turning back at me and looking me over with a calculating glance. “But hey, at least he seems somewhat decent. Definitely not the worst you’ve shagged so far.”

I could feel myself blush as I wanted to say something, but was cut off by Fresh Coat who burst into a calm, but hearty fit of laughter. “Oh no.” she said, giggling, “Oh no, don’t worry. This isn’t a date. We’re just here as friends.” She focused on me with an entrancing, charming stare and winked. “Right, buddy?”

I deadpanned, surprised that she seemed so certain about this. Sure, I had come here expecting a lunch among friends; a continuation of this fun evening we had shared last week, but the way she looked: the way she had dressed up for this occasion… I couldn’t deny that I felt a pang of disappointment hearing her affirm that this was really nothing more just a lunch among friends - and nothing more.

My thoughts came to a halt as I heard a dry chuckle come from the direction of the waitress. “Yeah, sure,” she said sarcastically giving Fresh Coat that smug grin. “Keep telling yourself that sweetie, but don’t forget to invite me to your wedding.” she said with a wink, then turned away to continue her round through the restaurant.

I turned to look back at Fresh Coat, unable to hold back a smile at her slightly puzzled expression. She shook her head, then gave a slightly forced chuckle and said, “so yeah, that’s Cinnamon. Sort of the head-waitress of this place. She used to be good friends with my mother and I’ve known her ever since...” she paused for a moment, reflecting. “Ever since I can remember, actually.” Again, she forced out a chuckle, “Don’t mind the teasing though. She tends to do that from time to time.” she explained with an excusing smile.

“I could tell.” I replied, working on a grin as well. I was still more than just a little confused by her behavior - was Fresh Coat just seeing this as a date or not? Sure, she had said that we’d be just friends, but the longer I looked at her dressed-up form, the harder it got for me to believe that it was just a date.

But I shook my head ending that train of thought right there. Yes, her behavior had been a little confusing, and yes, I had no idea how things would go from here, but no matter how this day would turn out, I was here now. I was here with Fresh Coat who sat there in front of me. So as far as I was concerned, everything was still possible.

“So,” she idly began.

“So,” I answered. “Waffles?”

“Mhmm, Sure.” she nodded affirmatively with a smile.

I smiled back at her, but caught myself frowning soon after for just a second. What would this be? Like… a twenty dollar dent in my savings? Maybe more? Could I even afford having lunch here? The Phrase, ‘you're really only spending money on another stallions wife,’ popped into my head at that moment.

But I quickly shook my head, brushing that thought off. Yes, I wasn’t necessarily swimming in money, but of course I could afford a simple lunch! Heck, I was spending time with what could potentially be a new friend, maybe even more, and that alone was priceless.

Feeling the smile return to my face, I turned my head away, looking for the head waitress and motioning her that we were ready to order.

“So?” Cinnamon asked as she stopped in front of our table, reaching for the notepad she was carrying behind her ear. “What can I get you two lovebirdies?”

Again, I could feel my heart beat a little faster, but couldn’t hold back a grin as Fresh Coat shot her friend a sinister look. “I’ll take the waffles, please.” She said, ignoring the waitresses teasing.

“Mhmm.” Cinnamon replied with a nod, giving her a knowing grin, “Extra whipped cream?”

“You know it.” Fresh Coat replied with a wink as Cinnamon turned towards me to take my order.

I ordered waffles as well, and with another comment, offering us to light up some candles or put on some soft rock to ‘fuel the flames of passion,’ Cinnamon turned away, leaving us sitting opposite each other in a somewhat awkward silence.

Well, not real silence. We did share a bit of small-talk or exchanged the one or other offhanded comment every now and then, but our conversation was far from fluent which eventually made way for actual silence.

A silence that felt like it dragged on forever that only became interrupted by Cinnamon's return only a minute or so later, carrying with her two plates filled with delicious-looking waffles.

“So…” I started an attempt to finally get the conversation rolling properly just as Fresh Coat picked up her fork to dig into the pile of waffles on her plate. “Had any interesting experiences with customers recently?” It seemed like an innocent enough comment but the dark side of my mind took it a bit out of context. In an instant, my eyes widened thinking that that's just what she thought too and I hastily added, “I-I mean experiences as in… experiences! Not rutting them!” Fuck my life... “No! I mean n-not like... I think you would rut all of your customers, but…” I cut myself off, facehoofing and letting my head sink with a heavy sigh.

“I mean…” I started another attempt, looking back up with a forced smile, “Nice weather outside, isn’t it?”

Her expression was frozen pre-bite, with her mouth wide open as her waffle-cladden fork levitated just half an inch away. Slowly the fork lowered and her mouth closed. She looked down as if to think for a moment, and at this time I thought I had done myself in as expected. However, instead of her scolding me on the spot with the fury of tartarus springing forth with lasers from her eyes, she instead chuckled.

Then laughed.

Soon she was hysterically laughing just across from me, shaking her head and softly pounding her hoof on the table in an effort to express herself. Was it something I said? I mean there wasn’t much I had said, just one very prominent half-witted remark, but how could that be funny? I had practically involuntarily called her a slut.

With a few heads turning our way she began to control her laughter, and finally looking to me with a grin on her face she said, “Alright, I’ll lay it down for you. I’m not exactly a saint, ya know? Sure I tried to...” she glanced around and saw a mother with a colt sitting all to themselves just across the aisle, so she leaned in closer, holding a hoof up to her mouth and continued, “...do the sex with you, buuut I mean it's not every customer I meet.”

“Well then.” Her transparency surprising if not remarkably pleasing in an odd way. “Why me?” I asked.

“Ha, I could practically feel you looking at my....” Lowering her voice for the colt’s sake she whispered, “ass. You weren’t too subtle about it either and you know, if one’s up for it and they don't look too bad then why not?”

“It's what I’ve been asking myself,” I openly admitted.

“Oh yea,” she said in remembrance. “Guess you’re just playing hard to get, right?”

I casually nodded because I knew if I verbally answered it wouldn’t have been so convincing. “So what is this then?” I asked. “Just a date right?”

“Well, I thought it was your intention for it to just be a date, ya know?”

I mean it was either the alternative or the solution to keep her around.

“You think you might woo me, right?” she said as she twiddled her fork around with somewhat of a charming smile. “Taking me on a date, paying for breakfast, actually getting to know me. I mean you're doing more than most would even bother. I mean I could admire that but I hope you’re not getting the wrong impression.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow as I finally took a bite from the waffles myself.

“Well,” she began. “I’m not exactly looking for anything long term. Ya know?” She said that last part a bit more caringly as if to not rip the bandaid clean off that I hadn't even known was applied. Bu - ut there it happened. Off it came. Raw and painful.

“Oh,” I mumbled and suddenly I didn’t feel like eating waffles and instead began looking around for champagne. I didn’t know what my plan was exactly; just take her on a date and that was it. Dates don’t guarantee life-long companionship and I should have given that sentiment much more regards than I actually did.

“Hey, don’t look so blue now,” she said, keeping up her cheery-ish tone of voice. “How ‘bout this.” My ears perked up at the beginning of her proposition. “Since you insisted on treating me so nice how ‘bout we spend the rest of the day out together? Ya know, just you and me together and out walking, talking, having fun, messing around and perhaps... Mhmm just perhaps, I may even give you a second chance tonight.”

She ended that last part slowly and in a seductive tone of voice that probably flustered the mother of the colt just across the aisle. Fresh Coat’s point was then driven home when I looked up to see her take a -and for lack of a better word- fuckin’-hot-sexy bite of her waffles. Taking it from the fork, holding it between her teeth before she slowly munching down and beginning to slowly, carefully and sexily chew in a way that definitely peeked my interest and something else a bit more interesting too.

“Waddaya say?”

“...”

“Well?” she said, tilting her head, letting her hair drop down as she took another slow, amazingly hot bite of her waffles.

“W-waffles.” Boy am I slick, just call me an oiled up bowling alley and start kicking some home runs.

She laughed tossing her hair around before saying, “Yes, waffles.” And with a smile she said, “Let's eat and maybe I can finally hear you name.”

As it turns out taking a bite of waffles myself had been a bad decision, as I almost choked on them in that moment. Staring at her with my eyes wide in surprise, I burst out, “Are you cereal!?” then promptly blushed, looked to the side and corrected myself, “I-I mean … are you serious?”

Fresh Coat replied with a soft giggle. “Wow, haven’t heard that one in a while.” Not leaving me time to reply, she added, “But yeah, you haven’t told me your name yet. I’ve come to just call you...”

I said nothing, blankly looking at her for a moment and reflecting. Could this be? We had been talking non-stop for several hours that evening in my apartment, and I had never once introduced myself? I let my look wander up to the ceiling, recalling the events of the evening.

She was right. I had never even once mentioned my name.

“Oh. You’re right.” I said out aloud as I looked at Fresh Coat with a partly surprised, partly embarrassed look. Not missing a beat this time, however, I stretched out my hoof in her direction and said, “Hey, my name is Blank Slate. Nice to meet you…” I cocked an eyebrow as if I were reflecting upon what her name was, “New Layer, wasn’t it?”

Fresh Coat looked at my outstretched hoof, then back at me. Surprise was written across her face, and for a moment, she seemed legitimately hurt that I didn’t seem to remember her name. Then, however, she saw the grin forming on my face and her tension vanished, making way for a relieved smile.

“Got me for a second there,” she said with a soft chuckle, then reached out for my hoof and shook it. “Nice to meet’cha Blank Slate. They call me Fresh Coat.”

“Ah, now I remember. Nice to meet you Fresh Coat.” I replied with a chuckle, “What’s a mare like you doing in a place like this?”

“Oh, you know…” she said, leaning back on her bench. “Just hanging out with some guy I met some time ago. He’s cute and all, but I feel like he’s just trying to get behind me. Can you believe that?” she said in mock-anger. “These stallions, I tell ya. All just thinking with their junks.”

Despite knowing that we were both just kidding and that, in fact, she had been the one looking for some quick fun, I could feel myself blush. After all, especially during the first couple of minutes after meeting her, I had been a literal slave to my worldly desires.

Regardless, I did my best to not let it show and we shared a short laugh together.

“So…” Fresh Coat spoke up again after our laughter faded, “Wanna get going?”

I looked at her in surprise, but she just pointed at the empty plates sitting between us. “The diner closes in about half an hour, and I wouldn’t want Cinnamon to work overtime.”

“Uh, okay.” I said, mildly surprised, “Do you have an idea where we could go?”

“Nope,” Fresh Coat replied with a smile, shaking her head. “Why would we need some place to go?” she turned her head to the side, pointing a hoof to the window next to us. “This is Manehatten. We’ll just find ourselves a place to go.” She turned back to me and smiling again, “Sound good?”

Again, I nodded numbly. “Uh, okay.” Feeling a smile form on my face as well, I replied, “Okay, ya. Let’s do it.”

***

A few moments later we were walking through the streets of Manehatten, side by side. It was late afternoon by now, and the rush-hour traffic that had filled the street before was starting to calm down.

I had nothing to prove it, but I liked to imagine that ponies around us were looking at us, thinking about what our deal might be. Maybe even suspecting that we were a couple.

A tickle of excitement ran through my body at that thought. Yes, we were just friends -for now, anyway- and Fresh Coat had made it clear that, if anything, the only thing I would get from her would be a quick, meaningless shag, but a nice guy could still dream, right?

I looked over at Fresh Coat who was walking alongside me with that relaxed smile back on her face. You’d almost think walking the full, busy streets of Manehatten had a soothing, relaxing effect on her.

“So…” I spoke up, having to raise my voice to talk over the ponies and carriages passing by beside us, “Where are we going again? Do you have anything … special in mind?”

Fresh Coat looked at me, a smirk forming on her face. “You’re not from the city, are you?” she asked me slightly amused.
“Uh, no.” I replied a little confused, not sure how this was related to where we were going, “I grew up in a village way down south. Moved to Manehatten about a week ago.”

“I could tell.” the mare replied with a chuckle, “You’ve got ‘village-foal’ written all over you.”

“How so?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Again, Fresh Coat smirked, “Please.” she said with a flick of her hoof, “It’s obvious, really.”

I looked at her in silent confusion, but before I could inquire any further, she tilted her head to the side and said, “Come on. Let’s get ourselves a place to have a drink if you’re so dead-set on doing something productive.”

“I, uhm…” I wanted to protest, but couldn’t deny that I liked her proposal. I liked walking the streets of Manehatten as much or little as anyone else, and it might have been the ‘get down to it’-attitude that village-life had hammered into me ever since my foalhood speaking from within me, but walking around aimlessly, no matter how good my company might be, just felt wrong to me.

So, finally, I gave a curt nod and a quick, “Okay.” before looking around and searching for a place suitable for us. My eyes fell onto a small bar on a corner with various tables and chairs in front of it.

“How about this one?” I asked Fresh Coat, pointing a hoof at the place.

Her eyes wandered over to it, and I could see them widen for a split second. A barely noticeable shudder ran through her body, and she quickly shook her head. “N-no, this…” she stuttered, “This place isn’t that good. I, uh ... I’d “rather not go there again.”

I looked at her, cocking an eyebrow, then back at the bar. “Why?” I couldn’t help but ask. This place looked pretty cozy after all.

“Long story.” Fresh Coat replied curtly. “Used to go there quite often with a…” she bristled, “Friend, but we’re not friends anymore and that place just brings back old memories.” her face looked surprisingly somber for just a second, but she quickly shook her head, brought that positive smile back onto her face and, with an inviting gesture, pointing down the road, added, “Come on, let’s go someplace else.”

“Uh, okay.” I agreed hesitantly, following her as she took the lead, walking past the cozy-looking bar without so much as looking at it.

My look went back to Fresh Coat, raising an eyebrow. What was that all about? A friend? I opened my mouth, wanting to ask her about that, but then caught myself. Whatever it was she associated with that place, it would have probably been impolite to ask her about it.

Besides, if she wanted to talk about it, she would bring it up it sooner or later, right?

***

“So, what actually brings you to Manehatten?” Fresh Coat asked as she leaned back in her chair next to me. We had found another bar a few minutes down the road - styled to look like a beach bar, it was adorned with small sun shades and beach chairs standing ready on the sidewalk.

To be fair, the sticky, dirty atmosphere of Manehatten was almost the exact opposite of a sunny beach destination, but the chairs were comfortable nonetheless, and the two cocktails standing on a small side table between us were -despite being rather pricy- quite delicious - and pretty strong, as the blur growing in the corners of my eyes and my increasingly drowsy mind confirmed.

My companion turned her head to the side, shooting me a sly grin. “And don’t you tell me you’re ‘driving tourists around on a motorboat’. I didn’t buy that the first time, I’m not gonna buy it now.”

I blushed a little, thinking back to these kinda awkward first moments we had shared together. “Uh, yeah, no that’s…” I looked to the side, rubbing a hoof against the back of my head, “not entirely true. Actually, nevermind. It’s not true at all.”

“No shit, sherlock.” Fresh Coat replied with a grin, “Now let’s hear it, how do you earn your sandwiches?” she said, giving me a teasing smirk.

“Well I…” I started hesitantly, “I’m an architect.”

That gained a genuinely amazed look from Fresh Coat. “Oh, really?” she asked, her face lighting up.

“Yeah, well…” again, I hesitated, “Not a full-blown architect. Not yet, that is.”

“Oh, so you’re in school? Studying?” Fresh Coat probed, sounding genuinely interested.

“Uh…” Again, my reply was rather short. “I, uh … I’m self taught, kinda.”

“Oh.” Fresh Coat said, less excited this time. “I see.”

“Yeah…” I replied, nervously fidgeting with my hooves. What had she expected? A star-architect? Designer of the Pony of Liberty? “I didn’t get any big jobs yet, but…” I bit my lip, wondering if I should tell her about something that was so hard to imagine. “I’m planning to participate in a competition. There’s a new school being built over in Bucklyn, and they’re still accepting submissions, so…” I swallowed nervously, “I’m planning to send in a draft I’ve been working on for some time now.” I paused, chuckling dryly, “I mean, it’s going to get rejected anyway, but hey, a guy can dream, right?”

To my surprise, Fresh Coat replied nothing at first. She looked me over with a dry, somewhat pitying glance, then let out one a long, heavy sigh and turned her head back. Her horn lit up and she took a long sip from her Piña Colada.

“What's wrong?” I asked slightly confused, tilting my head to the side.

“Let me guess…” Fresh Coat said with another sigh, “You came here, moved to the big city, looking for fame and fortune, right? Dreaming of fast money, easy fame and all that.”

I blankly stared at her, replying nothing. Where did that come from? It wasn’t entirely true, success was more like it.

“I know you do. We all do.” she said somewhat wistfully. “If I’d get a bit for all the ponies I’ve met who came here because they’ve heard of streets paved with gold…” she took another long sip from her drink, her look resting on the glass, “That would be champaign. And that,” she pointed at her dress, “A Rarity Original, and not part of the clearance sale at Mare-cys for twelve bits.”

Again, all I could do is stare at her in silence. Was she drunk?

“It, uh…” I stuttered, trying to say something positive, “it does look good on you.”

Fresh Coat turned towards me, her cocktail still levitating in front of her face - the glass was almost empty by now. She was frowning, her face matching her somber words, but I was sure I saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards for just a second as I complimented her dress.

But she shook her head, her expression darkening again. “Point is, this damn city is merciless. You have big dreams? High Hopes? Manehatten is gonna chew ‘em up and spit ‘em out like a damn chewing gum on the sidewalk.” she said bitterly, “These streets ain’t paved with gold, they’re paved with broken lives and dying dreams.” she looked me in the eyes, her beautiful magenta irises looking dark and somber. “They’re paved with ponies like you.” she explained, “Good ponies, nice ponies. Ponies who came here searching for their fortune, but ended up somewhere in the gutter.” her face darkened, “Or six feet under.”

Again, I swallowed silently. If I had expected anything from an intoxicated Fresh Coat, this most certainly wasn’t among these things.

“Trust me…” she concluded bitterly, downing the rest of her drink and slamming the glass back onto the table, “The best you can do is bury your dreams while you still have them. Otherwise this fucking city is gonna do it for you. Believe in somepony, rely on something, and they’re gonna fuck it right in front of your eyes.” she spat out, gaining a few disgusted looks from passersby.

She leaned forward in her chair, letting her head hang low, her mane concealing her face entirely.

I just sat there petrified. Really, of all the things I had expected to happen, this was not what I had foreseen. I wanted to comfort her; invite her to talk about whatever it was that made her say or even think these kinds of things.

But before I could think of a good way to handle this situation, Fresh Coat straightened herself up again, wiped her face with a hoof and gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.” she apologized, “I … I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine.” I hastily assured her, “I’ve heard of that too. … That life in Manehatten is hard and all. I just thought that…” I bit my lip, “Maybe things would be different in my case. I mean, I’m not after a lot of money or fame, I just want to…” I shrugged, “I dunno. Live my life.”

Fresh Coat replied nothing to that. She just looked at me with a touched smile on her face, and I thought I had seen a tear in her eyes.

Then something unexpected happened.

Out of nowhere, Fresh Coat shot forward in her chair, leaned over to me, flung her forelegs around me and gave me a tight hug.

“Thank you.” she whispered into my ear, sounding genuinely thankful.

“F-for what?” I asked back, not prepared to deal with this sudden change of situations.

“For being you.” the painter said, breaking the hug, pulling back and looking me in the eyes, “You’re the only pony I know who still believes in what they dream of. Please,” she pleaded, “Promise me you’ll never give up your dreams. Follow them, no matter what! You’ll be the best damned architect this city has ever seen!”

“Uh, t-thanks?” I forced out, too overwhelmed with what was happening to think straight.

“No, I should thank you.” she said, leaning her head closer to mine. I could smell the alcohol in her breath. “You’re the nicest, kindest guys I’ve met ever since…” she cut herself off, shaking her head, “For a long time.”

“Uh, okay?” I replied, cocking an eyebrow. I honestly didn’t really know what to say to that.

She giggled sweetly. “And you’re so funny!” she added.

“Uhm, you know…” I hesitantly began, softly shoving her off of me, “I think you might have had enough alcohol for now. Maybe we should just-”

I was cut short by what was probably the biggest surprise of the whole evening. Heck, of the whole week.

My mouth was flooded with remains of Piña Colada, taste buds overwhelmed with the taste of pineapples, coconuts, but most importantly rum as Fresh Coat shot forward, pressed her lips against mine and kissed me like I had never been kissed before.

I tried to struggle; to fight it, and to gently push her away. I really did.

But it was futile. As much as my mind wanted to struggle against it, all my body could do was give in, and enjoy.

And Celestia damn me, but I was enjoying every second of it.

Chapter 3

View Online

“So?” Fresh Coat a bit drunkenly but happily began.

“So,” I returned, not quite sure where to take the whole conversation at first.

We had finished with our little moment at the bar and with plenty of time left in the day -hell it was... only six- she decided to take me to the park. I wasn’t in any place to decline, especially after that kiss she gave me, but I was still constantly second-guessing myself and her.

It could have been because I never quite made it to first base or even had the chance to bat, but with any luck, who knows, I might just slide on into second head first. But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself because nothing ever was officially declared and I didn’t wanna jump the gun either.

I kept thinking back to when she kissed me and it, upon reflection, wasn’t quite as clear cut as I may have thought. She kissed me because she thanked me for being myself. Even though she wasn’t shagging every stallion, she did get around, so maybe her perception of a mutual relationship was a bit overgeared.

However tragedy stems from doubt and I wasn’t by any means doubting. I just didn’t want it to end too badly with me. I mean if we ended up as friends then that would at least still leave me on the board if she ever decided to come around, unlike her one night stands she had alluded to.

Screw them. I was already doing better in score of one date, one passionate kiss and one stroll in the park with Fresh Coat the one and only.

“Y’know…” Fresh Coat started as we entered the small, rundown park, leaning against me, “‘s been awhile since I’ve had this much fun. You’re pretty good company, you know that?”

I just smirked, blushed, and remained silent.

She chuckled to herself. “I still can’t believe you ditched me that other night though,” she added, and if it hadn’t been for my own alcohol-level being a tad too high, I might have noticed the faintest touch of hurt in her voice. However, even that was quickly replaced by teasing as she continued, “Honestly, for a brief moment I really thought you were… y’know…” she threw a suggestive wink at me - or at least tried to. It seemed the alcohol made her forget that winking required only one eye, not both. “Fishin’ in your own waters. If you know what I mean,” she slurred, patting my shoulder.

It took me a few moments to understand what she had just implied, but by the time I had understood and began readily preparing my counter statement she swiftly added. “Buuuut of course, that couldn’t be,” she affirmed with a broad, silly grin on her face. “The way you’re staring at my ass…” she cooed sweetly, “I knew you wanted some.“

“Speaking of which…” she began again, as her eyes became as bedroom-y as the alcohol would allow. “You still owe me a good shag. How about we … go find ourselves a nice place and … and … uhh…” Once again seeming lost in her own thoughts, she reflected for a moment, then cast a questioning glance at me. “What were we talking about again?”

I grinned back at her with an equally silly smile on her face as my mind went over what she had just said. Wait, she was drunk. She was pretty fine ten minutes ago, but I think now the rum and alcohol was really beginning to take effect as strong as a curb stomp. I wasn’t doing to fine either, but I still had my senses and as much as I liked strolling around, if she wasn’t fully drunk yet then it just might get worse later on in public.

“Freeesh,” I began as I felt myself slur just a little. “A-are you dru- too drunk now?” I’m a bit of a lightweight it turns out because I didn’t even drink that much. …At least, that’s what I thought.

“Mhmm… no. No Blaank,” she said, throwing herself over to me. Her mane fell over her eyes as she tilted her head in a cute sort of way. “I’m not druuunk,” she playfully slurred.

I didn’t particularly like the nickname ‘Blank’, but shit I was drunk and hearing her say it actually felt appealing. After all, getting a personal nickname from her put me yet another peg above all her other one-night-stands of which I was sure she didn’t even remember the names of after a few hours. I chuckled to myself and threw a hoof over her neck and said, “Yes you are.”

“Nooo,” she whined.

“Comeon, where's your home?”

She gently pushed herself away from me and laughed, “Hehe, not so fast Cowboy.” she threw a suggestive wink at me, “I’m wornt take you to my place. I can find m-m-myself home.”

Personally I found her slurs to be cute, but honestly I think we were garnering a bit of attention from passersby. This was a public place after all, but I felt a little concerned for her walking home all alone - especially in her current state.

“I-I-are you sure?” I asked, but damn my head was pounding. If anything I might be offed myself by a running cart on my way back to my apartment. “You kinda drunk.”

“A little drunk, Blank, just a lil’... drnk.” Gently pushing me away, she looked down the roadway and back to me with a genuine smile. “I’ll be fine.” Her head bobbed a little, but the fact that she could stay on her hooves was probably a commendable feat. “It's not like I never been drunk before.”

“Mhmm,” I took it into careful consideration, but she was most likely right, and I was sure that she had done it before, but still… that was dangerous. “A-are you sure?” I carefully asked.

She attempted to reassuringly pat my cheek, but it came off more as an involuntary slap.

I liked it.

“Awm sure,” she said with a smile as she began to slowly back away in a playful doggy crouched way with her rump in the air. “Bye cutie.”

Ouch, my heart. She just called me cutie. “B-bye Fresh Coat,” I forced out, feeling my heart go all sorts of crazy from the thought of her calling me cute.

But along with the pleasant pounding in my chest came a painful throbbing in my head. I was still a bit very drunk, but for some reason I felt like the sun was to blame for it. So I looked to the left of the path, searching for some cover from its assault on my eyes. With one quick glance around my surroundings it finally rested on a bench perfectly shaded by the canopy of trees that arced over the direction of the path but lacked the motivation to actually do their goddamn job and cover the whole walkway.

Before sitting I looked back to Fresh Coat, pointed to the bench and said, “I’m going to have to sit down.”

“Mhmm, okay.” She winked and turned around. I could feel my mouth run dry as she began shaking her plot in rhythm to her steps. I felt reminded of this afternoon when we had first met. I didn’t know if she was doing it on purpose or if it was just a side-effect of her drunken state but even then, I didn’t know if she was just playing with me or actually trying to seduce me - again! In public!

But regardless of what I felt for her and what she might be feeling for me, I couldn’t get my eyes to leave her behind.

True, I should know better than to stare at her like a zoo-animal before feeding time, and I couldn’t deny that small, bitter lump of guilt forming in the back of my throat as I looked at that admittedly magnificent body of hers. My eyes travelled over the dress engulfing her form, and I noticed only now how… tight it looked from this angle. It did keep her dignity and didn’t look one bit slutty, but with those curves of hers, not much was left to the imagination. I swallowed, blushing as a wave of heat washed over my middle region. I had to fan myself with a hoof just to keep calm.

I didn’t know if she had some sort of sixth sense for noticing stallions looking at her ass, or if she had just been very attentive, but not a second passed before Fresh Coat turned her head back, focusing on me over her shoulder, shook her butt seductively and called, “Don’t enjoy the view too much!”

I straight up blushed and I had to look around to make sure nopony else was looking, but even though this was a public place and ponies were everywhere, they all seemed too absorbed in themselves to actually notice - thank Celestia.

“No promises,” I called back, trying hard to play it cool as I casually sat back and relaxed.

At least here I could see if she made it out of the park alright and didn't fall or hurt herself in any way while I sat comfortably by myself. She carried herself semi-decently, but I probably would have thought otherwise if I wasn’t semi-decently drunk.

She was walking -or rather staggering- for a good minute until her walk was interrupted.

Though, contrary to my expectations, it was neither because she had tripped and nose-dived into the grass, nor because she had collapsed and fallen asleep on the ground.

No, the reason why she had stopped was because a stallion in a black, shady-looking trench coat interrupted her stride. Sure, I normally wasn’t a guy who was quick to judge other ponies, and in those few weeks I had lived in Manehatten I had learned that the worst most undignified thing one could do was judge ponies on how they looked, but despite my resolution to be more open-minded, I couldn’t deny that I had a bad feeling about this buck.

I knew it might have looked a little creepy, and I was worried that Fresh Coat might get the wrong idea if she would have seen me, but driven by my hazy but paranoid mind, I slowly got up from the bench and drunkenly stalked over to the two ponies as stealthily as my blurry vision and shaky legs would allow.

Luck seemed to be on my side. Though, as Fresh Coat was standing with her back facing me, that stallion seemed too focused on her to even notice my presence. I walked up to the two, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, and stopped about a yard away from them, perking up my ears and eavesdropping on the conversation from behind the trunk of a tree.

After a brief moment of eavesdropping suddenly the haze in my mind was gone, and I was feeling wide awake again and alerte again as I listened to this buck’s proposition to Fresh Coat. My Mare!

“So, what will it be, cutie?” I could hear that guy say in a raspy, but sly voice. “Made up your mind yet?”

“Uhhhh…” Fresh Coat slurred, “I… don’t do HT. ‘s bad for your health, y’know?”

The stallion chuckled dryly. “No worries, darling. I’ve been doing it for ten years now with no side effects. Well, except for the good ones.” He reached into his jacket, seeming to search for something with his hoof, “So what can I get you? Whatever you want, I got it all here.”

Fresh Coat looked up, tilting her head to the side as if she were reflecting. To be honest, I wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t noticed me yet. What I was surprised about was that she was still standing on all four hooves.

“I like chocolate pudding,” she finally purred, her look going back to the stallion, “Fix me up that, will ya?”

The sly grin slipped from the stallion’s face and he glared at the intoxicated mare. “You kidding me, filly?” he asked dryly, but then shook his head and forced another grin onto his face. “Come on, I got it all here. Horse, Horse Heads, Horse Tracks, Horse Tranquilizer, Horsebite … just say the word and I’ll…”

“There you are!” Finally, I stepped in.

Yes, I knew that I shouldn’t judge ponies based on how they looked or what they said or what they were trying to sell to my intoxicated friends, but I also knew that my mother had warned me about these sorts of ponies before I had moved to Manehatten, and unless there was something Fresh Coat was keeping from me, I didn’t see any reason why she should be talking to this guy any longer. I had never heard any of these names, but none of this small talk sounded legal to me.

Casting an excusing grin at the confused stallion, I put my hoof around Fresh Coat’s neck and said, “Sorry, I’ve been looking for her all over the place.”

Fresh Coat turned to look at me, a dorky grin forming on her face. “Hey sweetie. Back so soon?” she asked sweetly, wiggling her eyebrows, “Couldn’t stand being without me, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” I quickly put her off, trying to gently but decisively pull her away from the shady stallion. “Sorry about that.” I said, giving him an excusing smile, “Good luck with your, uh … business.”

With that, I stepped away from him, pulling Fresh Coat with me. To my surprise, she didn’t struggle or even protest. She might have just been too drunk.

“Sooo, where you taking me, sweetheart?” Fresh Coat cooed sweetly as we left the park side by side.

I didn’t answer her. To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure about that myself. She had proven that I couldn’t let her walk to her place by herself -not without having her buy shady substances from shady ponies- and at this point I wasn’t even sure if she could remember the way back to her place.

I let out a sigh. My mind was still drowsy and my head was pounding, but I had to do something. I couldn’t spend the rest of the night walking through Manehatten with Fresh Coat in this state. We had to go somewhere, and since she wouldn’t tell me where her place was, there was only one alternative that seemed reasonable to me.

I lifted my head, took one look around to orientate myself, turned and traveled in the direction that I knew led back to my apartment.

***

It was early morning when she woke up. The morning sun, softly shining through a nearby window directly onto her face caused Fresh Coat to softly whine and turn her head away.

A few moments later her eyes opened again. Her heart rate then increased as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings in panic.

This wasn't her bedroom.

Well, that normally wouldn't be a reason to be worried. After all, waking up in other stallions' bedrooms was something she had gotten used to over the past months as it slowly became something she didn't mind in the slightest, seeing how that experience often came in combination with a long, hot night of fun.

This time, however, things were different. She couldn't hear the soft breathing of her would-be mate aside her. She didn't feel the exhausting but satisfying -and filling- feeling she normally felt after a night of good sex, but most importantly... she slowly lifted her head, looking around.

She didn’t even remember how she got here.

Carefully, Fresh Coat lifted a hoof, rubbing it against her aching head.

Giving a long, tired sigh, Fresh Coat rose up, looking around to figure out where her escapades had led her this time.

She was sitting on a surprisingly comfy black sofa, her body half-covered by a soft blue blanket. Her gaze shifted around the room, past the window with the way too brightly shining sun behind it, and came to rest on the wall opposite to her. It was empty, save it for a few shelves with some books in them.

She led a hoof to her chin, reflecting as she studied the wall’s blankness. It was white - immaculately clean white, in fact.

Yes, whoever must have painted this wall sure must have had a skilled hoof. It was interesting but familiar. Almost like she was the one who painted it.

Suddenly it all came back to her. She straightened her body abruptly as she remembered where she was, what had happened, and who exactly was loudly snoring the bedroom down the hall

"Oh," she noted.

A smile formed on her face as she remembered the pleasant afternoon she had spent with... Blank Slate, right? Yes, the dinner the two had shared together had been truly pleasant, and the walk they had taken through the city together, and the drinks they had shared...

"Oh," she noted again.

The smile slipping from her face abruptly as tiny bits and pieces of her memory returned. She recalled how she had gotten drunk, how she had vented about the hard, unforgiving life in Manehatten... and how she had kissed him.

She suddenly felt herself blush. A reaction she was whole-heartedly surprised about. This most certainly wasn't the first time that she had been drunk but she couldn’t help but feel she pulled off something amazingly stupid regardless.

So why did she feel so weird about this whole evening? Yes, it almost felt like she was ... embarrassed. Ashamed of what she had done the evening before.

"What?" she couldn't help but ask aloud as that conclusion slowly drew itself in her drowsy mind. But she was never embarrassed! Heck, she was Fresh Coat! She normally couldn't care less about what other ponies were thinking of her, so there was no logical way she could feel embarrassed about what she had done, no matter what it might have been.

And yet, here she was. Sitting on the sofa in Blank Slate’s home, hoping for the ground to open up and swallow her right here.

She shook her head. She was probably just still a little drunk. So what if she had did some stupid things last night? Blank Slate didn't seem like the pony that would judge her for something like this. And even if he were... well then to Tartarus with him! She was the way she was, and if somepony didn't like that, they were free to go ahead and eat her shorts. She didn't need to explain herself, to nopony!

With that resolution in mind, Fresh Coat stretched her forelegs, then arose from the sofa with a soft groan.

With slow, shaky steps she walked over to where she thought she had remembered Blank Slate's kitchen looking to get something to drink. Her mouth felt dry almost like the Sahayra-desert.

Walking over to the doorframe that led to the kitchen, keeping herself close to the wall so as to support herself if she should fall over, she happened to walk past the door leading to what -based on the sounds coming from there- must have been Blank Slate's bedroom.

She stopped, fighting with herself. Normally the procedure when waking up from a one night stand would be to get up, get something to drink, freshen herself up in the bathroom, and then be on her merry way as fast as possible. Just like she had told Blank Slate, she wasn't looking for a relationship and Fresh Coat wasn’t in the mood to teach another lesson on what, 'This was a one night stand, so leave me the fuck alone,' meant.

Despite that, she caught herself hesitating. She couldn’t help but ask herself why she wasn’t leaving? If she would stay long enough for Blank Slate to wake up, he might draw the wrong conclusions. He might think that she was after him. Heck, he might invite her to stay for breakfast!

Fresh Coat expected to bristle at that thought - breakfast was, as far as she was concerned, the beginning of a relationship, so she had strictly avoided that topic ever since assuming her new lifestyle.

Now, however, she was even more shocked that a small but noticeable part of her mind enjoyed the thought of having breakfast with him. He seemed like a nice buck, and she had made it clear that she wasn't after a relationship.

So it was all good, right?

Nodding her head as if to confirm that thought, Fresh Coat carefully took a step forward, placing a hoof on the door handle, and opened the door leading to Blank Slate's bedroom.

A smile formed on her face.

There he was. Laying sprawled out on his bed, his body half-covered by sheets, sound asleep.

Slowly, bit by bit, Fresh Coat's memory returned. They had been walking through Manehatten's streets, Fresh Coat, completely intoxicated, leaning onto Blank Slate as he walked her home.

Seeing how she had never told him where she lived, and she had been too drunk to inform him, it only seemed reasonable that he had taken her to his apartment and prepared a makeshift-bed for her on his couch.

Even though Fresh Coat couldn't deny that she was still a bit hungover she still managed realize that he hadn't made a single move towards her. After all, she had suggested that she would give him a second chance, and seeing how she had been utterly drunk and defenseless...

Her body stiffened as that thought caused another avalanche of memories to break loose in her head and come crashing down onto her mind.

No, he hadn't made any moves towards her. But she had.

"Oh mother of Celestia..." Fresh Coat sighed, facehoofing.

She remembered now. All the way from the park to Blank Slate's home, she had tried to get him to rut her by all means possible.

"Hey, do you know what'd look good on you?" she remembered herself asking shortly after they had left the park. "Me!"

Blank Slate had, as far as she could remember now, only replied with a deadpan nod - much to her relief in retrospect.

Her look went back to Blank Slate's bed, and she could feel another wave of embarrassment hit her as she recalled jumping onto it in the second Blank Slate had opened the door, laying down in a seductive pose and cooing, "Sweetie, I love you with all my butt. I would say heart, but my butt is Mauwch bigger," while throwing a seductive wink at him and revealing her backside. "Want me to help you unwrap that package you got there?"

She couldn't tell if he had actually considered her proposal -or looked at her at all, for that matter- as the next thing she remembered was being picked up by his magic and levitated off the bed and back to his living room couch.

Floating through his apartment, enjoying the ride expecting the furious love-making to begin any minute now, she remembered leaning back, spreading her hooves and happily chanting, "My beaver is bored and wants to play, do you have any wood for my beaver today?!"

Then she must have passed out on the sofa, as she -fortunately- didn't remember anything else.
However, her ridiculous attempts to get into his literal pants aside, she wasn't quite sure how to feel about the fact that she woke up on his sofa and not in his bed this morning.

Sure, a part of her mind was disappointed, almost offended, that he hadn't accepted her proposal, in spite of her presenting herself on the silver platter yet again.

On the other hand, a much bigger part of her mind felt ... strangely relieved; happy even that he hadn't taken advantage of her. After all, she had been completely at his mercy - he could have taken her home, had his fun with her and then dumped her the next morning. Heck, he could have just as well left her at the bar, at the mercy of Manehatten's nightlife. She had already seen and experienced all this, and the fact that he seemed to care enough about her to not only not leave her by herself, but to also take her to safety and provide a place to crash for the night.

As much as she hated it - it really did pull at her heartstrings.

A moved smile found its way back onto her face as she looked back to Blank Slate. ‘He's such a cutie,’ she could hear herself whisper.

Then she stiffened.

No. No, she did not just say that. She did not just say that! No, no, no!

She fiercely shook her head, stepping back through the doorway only to noticed with horror that she couldn't take her eyes off the sleeping stallion. He rolled over giving a content dreary sleepy smile as he nuzzled himself deeper into the pillow. Fresh Coat could almost feel her heart flutter as she involuntarily imagined him dreaming of her.

Then the conclusion came crashing down on her mind like an anvil dropped from the third floor. She could feel her legs going weak as the words ran through her mind: She liked him. More than other guys too. She was ... crushing on him.

Again, she shook her head. “No! For pete's sake no!” she quietly swore. Taking another step back forcing herself to look away.

This couldn't be! She couldn't like him like this!

Liking somepony like this would lead to love, and love would lead to... to...

Fresh Coat forced her eyes shut, blinking away the tears.

No, she didn't like him like this. She couldn't like him like this!

The pain was still too fresh on her mind. This incredible anticipation when she had stood in front of the altar, ready to commit herself to him for the rest of her life. This... this indescribable, heart-wrenching pain she had felt as he hadn't shown up. ...And this blind, seething, unforgiving fury that had overcome her as she had found out that he had run off with one of her best friends.

No, she had sworn herself that she was over these things. Life was short enough as it was, and as far as she was concerned, anything that could threaten this almost omnipresent happiness she had felt ever since her abrupt change of lifestyle was to be ignored.

Thinking back to this resolution, Fresh Coat let her gaze linger back to Blank Slate for a few seconds longer before shaking her head and turning away. Yes, she liked him, and she knew that he would be devastated to find out that she had left when he would wake up, but it was for the better. It would be better for everypony involved to have him hurt a little bit now, than to have Fresh Coat hurt Blank Slate so massively like she had been back in the day.

With a heavy sigh, Fresh Coat stepped back from the door, walking over to the hallway with slow, heavy steps. This most certainly wasn't an easy way to go, but she was sure that it would save her a lot of heartache in the future.

She stopped in front of the entrance door, resting her hoof on the handle, ready to leave this place once and for all, but couldn't help but to look over her shoulder and back at the door leading to Blank Slate’s bedroom.

Again, she shook her head. ‘For the better,’ she muttered to herself once more before facing the exit once again

That is, until her look fell upon the painting hanging on the wall to her left. The one of a lonely mare standing atop a mountain overlooking the hidden valley below as clouds obscured her vision of the world below.

Blank Slate had hung it up. Not only that, but it appeared there was something written onto the frame that hadn't been there before.

Slowly, Fresh Coat stepped closer to see what it was.

'Paradise - by Fresh Coat'. A phrase engraven with a golden fill at the bottom of the frame in small neatly carved little letters

Again, the mare could feel herself tear up. He had... actually put it up? Her work?

She could feel her legs going weak. This was... so sweet of him... and that title too! He shouldn’t have.

Again, she turned back to look into his direction, and could feel her inner conflict rising up again. She couldn't just leave. That would break his heart; maybe even destroy his faith in pony-kind altogether. She couldn’t let that happen let alone live with herself if that truly did happen. She’d be a monster.

She then thought to herself something that was wholly true to her. ‘ponies as kind-hearted as him are hard to find in Manehatten, and I’d would be damned if I were create yet another heart-less, soul-less husk of a pony living in this city.’

But at the same time, staying with him would mean running the risk of developing feelings for him... and she knew all too well where this could -and most likely would- lead.

No, there had to be another way. A way to hold on to him, but with no romantic feelings whatsoever involved. It just seemed right to her but selfish all the same.

Reflecting, Fresh Coat put a hoof to her chin. Her gaze wandered over to the hallway, and her eyes spotted a notepad with a pen laying on a small shelf opposite of the entrance.

And finally, for the first time since her spontaneous rant last night, that casual grin was back on her face as her horn lit up, picking up pen and paper to begin writing. Not long after she had begun she was already done, gone and away by the time I woke up half an hour later to find said note.

However, doing so required me to wake up first. And mother of Celestia, waking up was a bad idea. My whole room was spinning, my vision was blurry, and the pounding in my head was so intense I was sure it’d burst any second.

I gave a heavy sigh that, I couldn’t deny, also contained at least a tiny bit of regret. I slowly sat up holding a hoof against my pounding head. Involuntarily or not, my thoughts went back to last night, and despite my head-bursting hangover, I could feel a smile creep onto my face as the biggest and most incisive memory popped back into my head: she had kissed me.

Fresh Coat had kissed me!

Sure, the mature, sober parts of my mind were quick to remind me that she was drunk and probably hadn’t known what she was doing. And even then, that kiss had probably been a mere sign of amicable affection, nothing to be taken too seriously.

But regardless, she had kissed me. And that was something nopony could ever take from me again.

Slowly but steadily, my mind went through the events of last night. We had been walking through a park, and she had been approached by some… stallion. My ears perked up, causing the pain in my head to flare once again as I recalled just what sort of guy this pony had been.

Had Fresh Coat really been about to buy drugs? Sure, I thought her capable of a lot of things, but this… this couldn’t be.

I thought about this again and, after a few excruciating moments of doubt, a feeling relief wash over me as yet another memory popped up in my mind. She had asked the pony for chocolate pudding. She had been drunk; probably too drunk to know what she was even doing.

Besides, she didn’t even look like a pony who did drugs. Most who do have matted coats and faded eyes that look overly dull like death itself gave them a big ol’ french, dripping wet kiss on the mouth which looked and was nothing like her.

Slowly, with another groan that didn’t even begin to express the ache in my head, I pulled myself out of bed, standing on my four hooves with great difficulty. My mind had by now arrived at the point where we had entered my apartment and Fresh Coat had jumped onto my bed, asking me to join her for some ‘luv-makin.’

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I thought back to her attempts to hit on me. To be fair, she did know how to tease me, and I couldn’t deny that I had been tempted to accept her offer and indulge at some point. However, my feelings for her aside, she had been more like a big, drunk baby last night. I had made sure to get her home safely, and nothing more.

Even though that thought prompted a whole new question: Where was she now? I remembered putting her to sleep on my sofa, but that had to mean…

I was about to walk into my living room to check for her when I spotted something in the corner of my eye. Something that hadn’t been there the night prior. I know cause my room was pretty bear.

Raising an eyebrow, I turned around, and my look fell onto a piece of paper laying on my nightstand. Slowly, doing my best to not fall over my shaky hooves, I walked over to the nightstand, picked it up in my magic and carefully read it over.

I found it was from Fresh Coat. She was apologizing for last night, and then she thanked me which really made me feel like a great guy. However what made it even more amazing was that she was up for seconds later this afternoon, at the same park too!

We'd be having a picnic or somethin’ and I couldn’t wait but first… I needed more refrigerator items and sAnDwIChEs worth eating.

I got ready, opened my door and just as I was about to leave I turned the corner and came to an unlit room in my apartment. I lingered a little looking into it and what might possibly make or break my future and considered if taking another day was worth it.

I shook my head. “Its Fresh Coat,” I reassured myself. “I’m almost done and I got plenty of time,” I muttered as I walked out of my apartment door.

About half an hour later, I stepped through the entrance of my apartment door again. This time however I was laden with a bag of groceries and fortunately freed from most of my hangover. Following the advice of the grocery clerk who seemed to have sensed my pounding head, I had stopped by a burger joint on the way home and had treated myself to a hayburger meal.

As it turns out, hayburgers made for an excellent hangover-cure, and I was feeling maybe not perfect, but way better as I stepped into my kitchen, placed the groceries I had bought on the counter while preping myself to prepare some sandwiches Fresh Coat would be sure to enjoy.

As my horn lit up putting myself to work, I couldn’t help but think about the days that already laid written and engraven behind me and feel un-ironically impressed by my current situation.

Ever since I had moved to Manehatten a few weeks ago, I had lived rather… introverted. My circle of friends, not having been too big to begin with, had diminished further after I had moved. I wasn’t necessarily a pony to go out and make new contacts, most of my neighbors couldn’t care less about me, and I didn’t have any hobbies worth mentioning. To cut it short, throughout the past weeks, the pizza delivery-pony had become my new best friend. Figuratively speaking, of course - he, just like so many others in this city of ghosts, didn’t seem in the slightest interested in making new friends.

Now, however, my relationship-world had been turned upside down. Not only had I met a pony who wasn’t only nice and friendly, but also interested in me. However depending on how one would assess the events of last night, possibly also met a new friend - a friend who, in a world where everything was possible, could very well turn into a future lover.

I felt a smile creep onto my face just at that thought accompanied by a bit of giddiness in my guts. Said giddiness, however, was quickly replaced by a shot of adrenaline and a sharp pain as I felt the knife I had used to slice tomatoes cut into my hoof. Being so absorbed in my wannabe-lovestory, I hadn’t realized that the tomato had been all cut up - and that the knife didn’t care if it cut through tomatoes or hooves.

Hissing a curse, I dropped the knife, holding my unharmed hoof against its injured twin. My horn lit up, and for once I didn’t regret spending so much time keeping my kitchen clean and tidy, as my magic quickly found its way into the dedicated drawer to pull out some cloth and a few bandages.

Cursing beneath my breath I quickly and swiftly magically applied the bandages to my injured hoof, I looked back to the pile of tomato-slices and the now bloody knife. Unintentionally, I found myself thinking back to what my grandpa had once told me. “Watch out,” he had said, “Mares are a dangerous pastime for the worst part. Let down your guard one second, and they’ll hurt you - like a knife through flesh.”

Despite the pain coming from my hoof, the now bloody bandages around my foreleg and my loyally pounding head, I couldn’t help but smirk. If this was all the pain a relationship with Fresh Coat would bring me, then I really couldn’t wait for our third date.

A few hours later I was standing in my hallway, freshly showered, dressed in a mostly white button-up shirt -the fanciest piece of clothing my wardrobe had managed to produce- and carrying with me my own, personalized picnic basket… which honestly wasn’t much more than a plastic grocery bag, but I’m sure Fresh Coat would appreciate the effort.

I turned to the side, looking into a mirror hung on the wall next to me, and gave myself a lookover. I looked… fancy. Too fancy? This was a picnic in the park, not a gala! But at the same time, I remembered all too well what big guns Fresh Coat had hauled out the day before, and the smile on my face went from put-on to sincere. Yes, if she could come to a waffle-dinner in a cocktail-dress, I could come to a picnic in the park in a button-up shirt.

Heck, for all I knew, Fresh Coat might be even more dressed up this time. After all… again, I could feel a tingle of excitement in my guts… this was our third date already. Who knows, things might get truly serious today.

With that, I gave my mirror-image one last look over and a confirming nod before turning around, opening the door, and stepping outside.

As far as I was concerned, this was going to become a day to remember.

***

A few minutes earlier, in a small studio apartment a couple of blocks away, a young unicorn mare was sitting on her bed in a rumpled, stained, but fancy black dress, her mane undone, and her face looking nearly petrified with tiredness.

What was she doing? Or, more precisely, what had she done? Seriously, all she had been looking for was a quick, fun, but meaningless shag. Was that too much to ask for?

Well, seems like it was. Here she was once again. Sitting on her bed, doing what she had sworn to herself she would never do again: thinking on her feelings.

Seriously, what was it about this buck? Why was he so dead-set on spending time with her? Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? And most importantly, why didn’t she want him to leave her alone?

Fresh Coat let out a long sigh, letting herself drop to her bed. Seriously, she felt like she was back in middle school again, lulling around while thinking about stallions like this.

But what else should she do? She had already seen that she couldn’t just leave him behind like this, and now she had invited him to meet again in only a few hours.

‘The third date. This is where it gets serious.’ Cinnamon’s words popped up from her memory; something the older mare had told her many, many years ago - during her first relationship, if she remembered correctly.

But this wasn’t a date, now was it? Sure, she liked him, and it was clear that he liked her too - that is, liked her enough to take her home and not leave her to the mercy of Manehatten’s nightlife. But nothing of that meant that what the two had went beyond simple friendship, right?

Right?

As if by command, Cinnamon’s words from the day before echoed through her head, telling Fresh Coat to invite the waitress to her and Blank Slate’s wedding. Sure, she had laughed about that back then, but now … she bristled. Yes, it had been a joke, and it still was ridiculous to just think about it, but nevertheless, she couldn’t deny that a small, teeny tiny part of her mind… liked that idea.

“Damnit!” she swore, sitting up on her bed. What was wrong with her? Weddings were bad! Relationships were bad! Staying with somepony for longer than one night was… was fucking bad! She knew all too well where feelings like these would lead her, and for the love of Celestia, she would rather die than to experience all this all over again!

And she wouldn’t let it happen again. She didn’t love Blank Slate, she wasn’t even crushing on him. The two of them were friends, and nothing more!

And she’d be damned if there was something wrong with two friends meeting for a picnic in a park on a Saturday afternoon.

With that resolution in mind, Fresh Coat arose from her bed, feeling relief wash over her and a smile form on her face.

She really was feeling a lot better now. True, the alcohol from the night before was still in her bones, and after coming home and passing out on her bed almost instantly, she had not yet had a chance to take a shower, but now that her inner struggle was resolved, she could honestly say that she was doing better.

Letting out a long, relieved sigh, she turned around, looking at her alarm clock standing next to her bed, and froze.

She and Blank Slate had agreed to meet in five minutes! She was going to be late!

The mare was just about to fall into a sprint and dash out of her apartment just before something became clear to her: This wasn’t a date. No, she was just meeting up with a friend, and all of her friends knew that being a little late was just as much a part of her as painting was or her trusty ballcap.

And just like that, her stress was forgotten, and her body relaxed noticeably. Letting out a soft grunt as she stretched her legs, her horn lit up, pulling down the zipper on her dress. The black garment hit the floor with a barely noticeable thud, and Fresh Coat, now back in her birthday suit, walked out of her room and towards the bathroom to take a long, refreshing and relaxing shower.

Sure, she was going to be a little late to her get-together with Blank Slate, but she was sure a good-friend like him would understand.

Right?

Chapter 4

View Online

It was a bright afternoon with ponies having a great time, but while they ran around playing with dogs or each other outside in the Manehatten public park, I was confined to the bench I had briefly found myself on the day prior. I was a bit unnerved once again, me being dressed in a white button down with the note left by fresh coat telling me to meet here for a picnic.

I had gathered the basket of sandwiches and even though she haddn’t asked, it was good to be prepared and hey, the more the merrier. However I wasn’t very merry because unlike our last date where she held out for fifteen minutes before showing up, this time she was topping out over an hour.

I didn’t want to think anything bad of her. I was even doing my best giving her the benefit of the doubt: She could have had something unexpectedly come up, it could have been an emergency, somepony might have died or she could had suddenly been kidnapped by the Manehatten drug lord Crawl Revingrad.

Oh the name just sent shivers of terror down my spine; Thee infamous Crawl!!! Elusive and a hippogriff to be dreaded. Cross him and it will be the cross you’re buried beneath, often times an empty grave as most ponies are never found.

However I was more sensible than that and could infer that she hadn’t in fact been kidnapped but... “Why is she so late?” I asked once again as I raising my head to once again scan the park for that familiar face of Fresh Coat hoping that she was just lost or didn’t know where to find me.

I wanted to get up and look for her, but then again I feared that she might miss me in this particular spot, so I stayed.

Thankfully nobody paid me much attention. Just a stallion afterall… sitting in the park with a picnic basket… alone. I whimpered to think that she left once again, the reality was starting to set in, but what was the cut off? An hour and a half? Maybe two? How long would I be sitting here before I give in and just left?

It was a great day, but to me it felt like an overcast and soon it would turn to a downpour as I trod off back to my apartment with my tail between my legs.

Was it me or was it her? Could it be me, it was a hard question to answer as I was polite and kind and on time, or was it her? Was she the kind of mare that liked being mistreated, to be called names and demeaned?

I shook my head. No that wasn’t her, it was just my mind getting to me again. She was nice and she appreciated me for being me. Something that was also backed up by that kiss she gave me too.

I liked her. I mean of course I liked her, why else would I be here? But what I mean is I really like her and although it wasn’t said aloud, I would dare to say I liked her more than just a friend and it was something I hoped she held the same opinion towards.

Straightening myself up I decided that I would politely wait another thirty minutes. If she didn’t show up I would simply accept that something greater had come up and think nothing of it. After all it’s what a good friend would do; be understanding and mindful of other ponies priorities. If she had something more important, then by all means I shouldn't keep her from that even if the note told me to meet her here.

She may have even been half drunk when writing this and had forgotten to take her own schedule into account. After all she does paint walls for a living, maybe she just had another client. Whatever the case I wouldn’t let this abandonment get to me. I was better than that, I wouldn’t jump to conclusions and I wouldn’t get all riled up about it.

So beginning to relax I began to count the minutes until I conceded to leave. Intent on passing the time my gaze began to wonder as it casually fell over other ponies enjoying their time in the park: I could see foals running about, playing with a ball, an elderly couple sitting on a bench on a sidewalk opposite of my side of the park, and coming my way a group of younger bucks laughing about as they drank what, based on the brown glass bottles, must have been beer.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves quite a bit as they numbering four to their entourage and as they passed me swooning around and drinking even more I casually said with a smile on my face, “A bit early to be drinking, huh?” I had nothing better to do, so talking with a group of stallions that seemed easy-going seemed like a fine idea to say the least.

However, when I dropped my remark one of the bigger stallions turned my way, his smile lowering to a frown only to sinisterly warn, “Shut the hell...up.”

I put both my hoofs up to indicate I meant no harm verbally or physically and simply said, “Sorry, I-I was just sayin.”

However, this stallions wasn’t pleased. He marched up to me, getting too close for comfort as he pressed his chest close to mine with his muzzle looking down on me doing his best to intimidate me. “Keep your shit to yourself,” he said placing a hoof no my chest. “Got that?”

Now I wasn’t exactly up to fight or turn my mediocre morning into something of a hefty hospital bill, so I continued to cower out and say, “H-hey, alright, alright! I’m sorry.”

“Get the hell off him,” one of his buds called. “He ain't worth the nail of my hoof.”

The buck standing over me looked back to his group then back to me. With one hefty shove of his hoof he nearly knocked the wind out of me as he sauntered away while his buddies patted him on the back, calling him a ‘bad ass’.

“Asshole,” I muttered as I pushed myself back up to my haunches. If I really wanted to I would have totally beaten the shit out of him of course. However, I still had my date to show up to and I didn’t want to have to show up saying I committed second degree murder with bloodstains on my white shirt, so of course I had to let him off easy.

Anyway, now my morning had gone from poor to even worse and I was only in five minutes to my thirty minute proposition. It didn’t seem to be going great already, however, as I eyed the group of bucks as they made their way away from me dreaming up of all the ways I would've laid it down on them if they took it one step further I heard a particular set of hoofsteps approaching from behind.

Looking I found it to be the familiar shape of the beige unicorn walking her way down the path towards me.

Needless to say that I first and foremost, felt relieved that she had shown up after all. Even though that relief was quickly joined by surprise as I realized that, contrary to my expectations, she wasn’t wearing her dress anymore. In fact, she was only dressed in her ballcap again, reminding me of that day she had shown up at my doorstep to paint my living room.

I couldn’t deny that I felt a little disappointed at that. Of course, she was free to wear whatever she wanted to wear, but after coming to our last ‘date’ wearing a dress, and especially now that I had put on a button-up shirt, I had half-expected her to wear something at least somewhat fancy too. In fact, now I actually felt a little out-of-place -not to say stupid- sitting here in my fancy shirt.

But I did my best to not let it show, focusing instead on the fact that she had shown up after all and not stood me up like I had apprehended. One thing still… I hope she didn’t see that confrontation I just had. I totally would have served their asses up on a silver platter but to have her see it probably wouldn’t be the best thing for our relationship.

“Hey,” I said with a smile as she came closer. I could tell that the last night still lay heavy on her back, and contrary to our last get-together, she wasn’t wearing any make-up, neither had she bothered to style her mane - she looked as casual as ever.

“Hey buddy!” she greeted me cheerfully, raising her hoof. “How’s it going?” I quickly got up from the bench, expecting that she wanted to give me a hug - in light of last night’s events, this seemed like an appropriate greeting.

However, before I could put my forelegs around her, her hoof shot forward, bumping against mine in a quick hoofbump. “Badaboom!” she exclaimed, pulling her hoof back as if it had exploded against mine, then giggling. “How you doin’ man? ‘s been a while.”

“Uhh…” I muttered, my hoof still outstretched, almost petrified to the denial I’d inadvertently received. What exactly was that? Was she … still drunk or something? -or did she really think I was gonna hoof bump her?

“Come on, let’s have a seat over there,” she invited me, pointing her hoof in the direction of a free spot on a nearby meadow. “Iu’m starving!” she affirmed with wide eyes, “You brought some sammiches, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” I replied, my look going back to the picnic basket, “I… I actually did.”

“Sweet. That’s my man.” she said with a grin, punching her hoof against my shoulder, “I’ll be waiting over here.”

“Uh, okay.” I muttered again, my horn lighting up, magic picking up our basket as I followed her.

We walked for a few moments, then Fresh Coat stopped on a spot underneath a big tree and sat down. I set down the picnic basket, then lowered myself to the ground next to her.

“So, what’s good?” she asked, laying down and relaxing, “Anything new?”

“N-not really.” I replied timidly. Seriously, what was she expecting? It’s been maybe five hours since we had last seen each other. -or… since she’s seen me.

“Huh.” Fresh Coat said with a huff, raising an eyebrow, “And here I thought you had some interesting architect-story to tell me.” She paused for a moment, reflecting, “What’s with that school-project-thing you told me about yesterday? Any progress on that?”

While I couldn’t deny that I felt at least a little bit fluttered that she still remembered what I had told her yesterday, her odd questioning and general behavior still rendered me rather confused, so I just shook my head. “N-no, not yet.”

The painter mare leaned back on the grass, giving me a smirk. “Not very chatty today, are we?” she chuckled, “Still a little drunk, huh?”

‘More like not drunk enough.’ a voice in my head hissed, but I shook my head. “Y-yeah.” I quickly affirmed, “Yeah, I think I might have had a little too much last night.”

“Hehe, tell me about it.” she chuckled, “I can’t deny that I was a little shitfaced as well.” her chuckle grew into a full-fledged laugh as she continued, “Remember when I kissed you!?” she asked, almost choking on her own breath.

“Yeah…” I muttered, feeling myself blush for some reason, “Yeah, how could I ever-”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” she apologized, still chuckling lightly, “I tend to do crazy shit like that when I’m drunk. Just kissing random ponies and all. No hard feelings, right?”

Ouch.

Random people?

That one had hurt. That one had hurt a lot.

“Hehe yeah.” I replied, forcing out a chuckle and putting on a fake-smile, “I-it’s cool. No big deal.”

“So,” she said.

“So,” I less enthusiastically replied.

“Sandwiches?” she asked. I nodded my head making a point not to vocally reply. “Alright!,” she cheated. “Follow me, I know just the spot.”

She took me to a spot underneath one of those lone standing trees they normally plant around the park for just the occasion or simply a place to get out of the sunlight when running around all day. I had also brought the red and white checkered quilt for us to sit on. She was the first one to snatch it away before I could do anything with it leaving me with the food to set up.

As she laid down the blanket I placed the basket over it before taking my seat second. “Alright!” she said as she took her place too. “What kinda sandwiches you got?”

“Uh” I said rubbing my chin as I opened the flap nearest to me. Recaling in my mind I answered, “Peanut butter and jelly, uh, Mozzarella and lettuce sandwich

“Oh, I like those!” she said before opening the basket and tearing into the first one her magic got a hold of.

It was a lettuce sandwich topped with an olive and toothpick for fancy points on my part. Taking the the toothpick she first ate the olive as I found my first sandwich; It was the mozzarella one, sadly without an olive.

“Mrmm, drs’s gurd,” she said with a mouth full of sandwich. “Bet these are store bought, huh?” she joked.

“No, no, I made them,” I answered taking a bite from mine as well. I hadn't quite looked her in the eyes when I said that, more like towards the ground staring dully off into space.

“Well it's really good,” she reassured. “Can tell you actually tried with this. Not like those toasted… things you did last time, right?” she giggled.

“Hehe,” I laughed but it was more of a sigh. “Yea.”

Man if I ever felt like downer it certainly was now. I don’t know why I was just so upset. It could have been with Fresh Coat, but I didn’t want to admit it. I mean I know she was late for about an hour, and that I had dressed up only for her to show up casual, and that she had snuffed out a hug for a hoof bump and that she had said she was drunk when we kissed, and that she had said it was silly and… wait... Was she going to dump me?

Fuuuck, she was. She definitely was! All the signs were there, I couldn’t deny it!

But I did want to deny it, I wanted to think she was being all friendly simply because she was in a good mood or something, I dunno, but she really played every thing off as if we were mutual buddies or something. Again I didn’t know, I wasn’t a dating expert but I was good at picking up on signs and oh was she just a scrap yard littered with them.

These doubts weren’t healthy, I wanted to be cheerful and uplifting as she was but if she was going to just sit me down in the friend zone at least tell me straight up. Don’t beat around the bush don't be all friendsy with me.

Of course I never actually said that, instead I sat there eating my sandwich acting like nothing was out of the ordinary just as she was. I could only internally sulk as I waited for what I knew was going to happen.

“So,” I croaked, trying to start a conversation that would in some way lead to me asking if we were just friends. Yea smooth me, beating just as hard around the bush as she was. Soon it would be nothing but a dirt pillar topped with an untouched, undisturbed shrubbery. “Wha-what have you been doing lately?”

“Oh you know,” she began as she waved a hoof. “This, that and just hanging out in general.”

“Oh.” I replied, feeling my head sink. “Cool.”

‘Sweet Celestia,’ I thought to myself, ‘please, just make it stop. Cause an earthquake, make the sky fall, or just let me die, but please end this misery.’

“Yeah.” Fresh Coat said with a forced smile, apparently not sure how to go on with this conversation either. I looked at her, and felt my throat tighten up. So, this was it, huh? This was the moment where she would ban me into the friendzone forever. Rip my heart out and stomp it to pieces. I could already feel the pain.

In a desperate attempt to brace myself for the impact, I turned my head away from her, trying to ignore the unpleasant silence that was settling between us. However as I did my gaze fell upon a familiar entourage of bucks who were huddled about… looking in our direction. Why though? Did they suspect she was about to dump me? Where they about to laugh it up once she did?

No… They weren't looking at us, they were looking at… at her. At Fresh Coat, and not just her, but a particular feature too. They were looking at her butt!

In an instant, I could feel a familiar feeling of shame form in the back of my throat. I couldn’t really tell why at first. They were staring at her and not me, after all, but despite the fact that they were doing exactly what I had been doing less than a week ago, the idea of ponies staring at my ‘date’ like this made me feel uncomfortable. Not only uncomfortable, I was miffed; I was angry! What were these ponies thinking? How dare they…!

But I cut myself off, shaking my head. Fresh Coat was about to ditch me anyway and remembering that, extroverted as she was, she enjoyed having ponies staring at her assets, she probably didn’t mind the extra attention. Heck, for all I knew she might be playing with them; teasing them and ‘inviting’ them behind my back.

And really, if that was what she wanted, it would have been selfish of me to say something against it.

With a soft sigh, I shook my head again and turned my look away from the group of bucks, looking back at Fresh Coat instead. I could feel another red hot nail being driven through my heart as I saw that she was looking at them too. While there were no traces of that teasing smile she had given me back in my apartment on her face, the mere fact that she was acknowledging their existence and the looks they were giving her was enough to break my heart yet again.

I had to do something; I had to say something! Yes, maybe I couldn’t expect her to completely ignore them, but I’d be damned if I wouldn’t try my best to show her that I wasn’t that boring after all.

“So…” I forced myself to speak up again, my mind reeling and trying to hold on to what could possibly be my last chance. “When did you start painting?” I blurted out, feeling strangely proud of this sudden idea. Painting was, as far as I could tell, one of her favorite things to do and talk about, so this would surely make her forget about these lusty douche bags, right?

“Huh?” she asked, her look darting away from the group of drunk ponies and back to me, “Sorry, I was just…” her look went back to the bucks for a second, then shot back to me, “Nevermind. What’d you say?”

I bit my lip, holding back a cringe. I was losing her to them, wasn’t I?

“I-I was just wondering... “ I stuttered, “About painting … what made you… y’know... start?”

“Oh.” I could feel my heart beat a little faster as I watched her face light up, a smile breaking across her muzzle. “That just … developed over the years.” She gave a soft giggle - I was going to win this battle after all! “I remember filling dozens of pages of my notepad with sketches and comics back in middle school. Then I started attending art classes in High School because I wanted to make a living out of it, but then…” she shrugged, “I dunno.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering how she could have gone from a talented art student to a house painter, but just as I was about to question what ‘I dunno’ meant, I was cut off as one of the bucks from the aforementioned group had gotten up and walked over to us. And as fate willed, it was exactly that prick I had encountered a probably tens of minutes earlier.

The light brown earth pony stopped in front of our blanket and looked at Fresh Coat - the smell of alcohol hit my nose even from a three feet distance. Looking at my date, friend or whatever I should call Fresh Coat now, he gave her a grin that, if he were sober, would have been suggestive, but now just looked plain muddled.

“Hey there, sweetie.” he slurred at her, “Watchu doin’ in a place like this? Want some company?”

Well, this was it. I was done. I had tried, and had failed. I might just as well get up and go home now. He was going to hit on her, she was going to pull the ‘seductive painter’-thing on him, they were going to disappear behind the next best bush possibly with the rest of his entourage, and I was going to be left behind like a beaten, abandoned dog.

Really, it was like High school all over again. After several weeks of fighting with my anxiety, having finally built up the courage to talk to someone, I was in the middle of a struggling conversation with her, then some entitled jock would come along, hit on her, and just like that I would be forgotten again. I used to think that, being out of school for a few years, I had left these situations behind me, but it seemed my past didn’t want to let me go this easily.

Seriously, what had I done to deserve this?

However, to my very surprise, all Fresh Coat did was look at the intoxicated buck with a slightly confused look on her face. Then, after a moment or two, her look went over to me, then back to the buck, and I couldn’t believe my eyes as she slowly shook her head and said, “Uh, no thanks.”

“Come on.” the buck said, putting a hoof on her shoulder, leaning against her, “You don’t need to waste your time with this guy.” He tilted his head in my direction, “I know you want it. You want me too, but I’m sure like...” His voice devolved into a whisper before saying, “...horsecock even more.”

Again, Fresh Coat just shook her head, her voice a little more decisive this time. “No, seriously. Not interested. Screw off.”

I was baffled, my look darting between Fresh Coat and the drunk buck. This was the first time that a situation like this hadn’t ended with me sitting all by myself, and it took my mind a few moments to realize just that.

“Come ooon.” the buck continued his advances undeterred, leaning even further on Fresh Coat and softly caressing her cheek with a hoof.

This time, however, it seemed he had crossed the line. Instantly Fresh Coat raised her hoof and pushed him off and away from her shoulder. “Get off me!” she warned as she got to her hooves and stepped towards my direction.

The buck didn’t seemed pleased. It took him a few moments to regain his balance, but when he finally stood safely on his hooves again, he gave an angry grunt and glowered at Fresh Coat. “Don’t be a bitch!” he growled menacingly.

Finally I managed to break myself free from my stupor, and more instinctively than anything else, I took a step towards the buck just as he was about to come for Fresh Coat again. “Go the hell away!” my mouth shouted, long before my mind could think about it.

I didn’t really know what I was doing. To be honest, I never was one to stand up against bullies like this, partly because I wasn’t exactly a hunk of a pony, partly because many, many excruciating years in middle and high school had taught me that keeping your head low and and accepting your position at the lower end of the food chain meant not having to pull myself out of the trash bin every other afternoon.

“Shut the hell up!” he barked, his attention now focused on me.

If I were back in school, I was sure I would have wet myself by now. This buck wasn’t necessarily a lightweight, and it was clear that I would probably end up in a beating if I didn’t do as he said and shut my mouth.

But not this time. Not today.

I was boiling mad, not only because this buck was a prick, not only because he was advancing on my mare, not only because he called said mare a bitch and told me to STFU and not only because he was invading our time. I was mad because he just soiled my quilt! Granny's quilt!

All that other stuff added up too, but that was the tipping point when he set his dirty, grimy masculin, well kept, beefy, strong hoof on my quilt!

This was it! This was the final straw! Who did he think he was for stepping on my quilt like that!?
I had backed off all my life; I had accepted being the underdog, had always given in so as to not get in trouble, and had let ponies like him push me around all my life.

But not anymore. Now it was time to stand up, not only for Fresh Coat, but also for myself. It was time to declare war on the bullies, to show ponies like this that I wasn’t their personal punching bag, and to fight back! Now was the chance to make up for all these years of being pushed around, and Celestia damn me if I wouldn’t use it!

With spite numbing my fear, adrenaline filling my veins and anger making me feel bigger than I actually was I stepped up to the buck and, more shouting than speaking, growled, “Leave her alone and fuck off!”

“Don’t tell me what to d-” he began, but was cut off when I placed my hoof on his chest to push him away. Though he wasn’t cut off by my sudden force or my intimidating words, he was cut off because by touching him it seemed I had given him an excuse to lash out at my face, which he took full advantage of.

In an instant I was on the ground with one quick swipe of his hoof. I let out a forced groan as my head hit the grass, a stinging pain spreading across my cheek and a coppery warmth running over the inside of my mouth.

As Fresh Coat screeched in terror the buck positioned himself on top of me and, placing a hoof on my chest, effectively pinning me down while he used the other to deliver blow after meat-thawing blow to my face.

“Dumb Bitch, You Done Fucked Up!” he scoffed as he continued to wail on me as I did my best to defend against his attacks, raising my hoofs up, turning my face away which hardly changed anything for me.

“Hey, get off him!” I could hear Fresh Coat pipe up, though her voice sounded distant and blurred to me. Through my hazy and blurred vision I could see her try to step in and try to stop the buck from beating me to pulp. Though he obviously had a lot more mass and power than her, and only with the help of her magic did she manage to pull him off me eventually.

It felt like an eternity, but in all honesty it was only eight seconds. It felt like I was hit hundreds of times but it probably was only sixteen savage blows and before I knew it, he was off running off to his mates who were hooting and hollering as they scampered off before any city officials with cuffs and legal HT could intervene.

Laying on the ground absolutely senseless to anything Fresh Coat fell over me, calling me by name, “Blank Slate! Blank Slate are you okay!?” She wanted to help, I could see it, but she didn’t know what to do and neither did I at the moment.

I was quite literally shit-faced.

Soon another pony had run up to us, another concerned mare. Then a stallion came, as well as a few of the fillies and colts who had been playing - the act that had just taken place had garnered a bit of attention as getting repeatedly pounded on wasn’t exactly a discrete performance. As a few more hurriedly gathered around and one stallion suggested calling the cops to Fresh Coat while a mare asked if she should call an ambulance.

However, as I slowly regained cognitive thought and my thousand mile stare into nothingness receded to just a few inches as I looked Fresh Coat in the eyes there was a collective gasp of relief.

“Blank Slate,” she said, her voice now calming, seeing as I was pushing my way up.

A few of the onlookers tried to ease me back down, but I didn’t want to lie on the ground. I had already been publicly humiliated and even though a kind stallion had folded up my picnic gear and handed it to Fresh Coat while I sat for minutes holding my face I still wanted to get away.

I was bleeding bad, everything hurt. My face had a gash in two places, below my jaw and upon my forehead. My hooves were were becoming equally as bloody as I held my face looking what I guess was like a leaking blood bag.

I coughed, “Fresh…”

“What?” she said, coming to my side with the picnic basket held in her magical grip. “What is it?”

“I-I need t-to go. P-please.”

“He needs a doctor,” a mare suggested.

Fresh Coat wasn’t quite sure what to do. On one hand she could take him to the hospital and they could take care of his wounds and on the other she could walk him halfway across the city back to his apartment and take care of him then. Neither seemed like quite the best alternative since hospitals weren’t exactly cheap and Blank Slate didn’t appear to be made out of money either.

But it was fine, all fine, as she knew a better place that was much closer and cheaper too.

“Comon,” she urged and with the help of another kind stallion Blank Slate was on his very own three legs, one of which was wrapped around Fresh Coat. With a parting thanks to the small crowd that had gathered, some of which who helped, Fresh Coat slowly hobbled Blank Slate out of the park and onto the sidewalk leading down a street, opposite of where Blank had come from.

“Where are we going?” Blank asked as he held his bleeding head up.

“Shhh, quiet.” she kindly ushered as they hobbled along the street. “Just follow me.”

Chapter 5

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You ever, like… wake up those days and it turns out you slept on your foreleg and it’s completely dead and feels like a sack of bricks hanging off your body? Well that was how my face felt except I actually felt every aching sore spot and it hurt like hell.

Coming around wasn’t easy although the stars were pretty, and where I had been led to, well I wasn’t exactly sure as for most of my journey I was half-conscious as I was led down a few streets, up an elevator, down a corridor before passing out on some couch I think. Then again it could have been a pile of cardboard for as well as my body felt.

Where had I come from? Well that much I knew… I think… no I’m sure, it was the sidewalk of St. Getyourasswhooped on the outskirts of Freeasskicks Equestria. Population: assholes.

But let's not beat around the bush any longer, I was in a terrible state. I was bleeding from my face, mouth and probably my ears for all I knew. If it wasn’t for Fresh who knows how long that buck would have pummeled me into oblivion, but where had she taken me?

My vision was a bit fuzzy but I could clearly see the room was completely white. For a brief moment I found my mind suspecting that Fresh Coat had taken me to her place. However, looking at the plain, simple bed I was lying in, and feeling that all too familiar smell of sanitizer and cheap flower bouquets hit my nostrils, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was in a hospital.

That itself was, given what had happened earlier, no real surprise. In fact, I was rather relieved, knowing that, despite me getting thoroughly beaten up, I wouldn’t end up bleeding out on a dirty sidewalk after all. However, that relief was short-lived, as, with my vision clearing, I realized that I was all alone in the sterile-looking room.

Frankly, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I was alive - hurting like hell, but alive. And yet, the absence of a certain beige unicorn mare in my room was something that made me want to shiver all over again.

I mean … not that I was expecting her to stay with me until I woke up, but … she would at least stay near me to fill me in on what had happened, right?

Right?

Slowly, I raised a hoof, wanting to rub my aching head, but flinched back as it touched warm, wet bandages around my head, shortly followed by a stinging pain flaring up on the whole side of my face.

“Ugh…” I groaned, lowering my hoof again and pinching my eyes shut. I could feel a sudden, dull, blind anger coming over me. I wasn’t mad at myself for accidentally causing me such pain, neither was I mad at that asshole who had literally beaten me into the hospital. No, I was just … mad. I just wanted all this to be over! For the pain to stop! I just wanted to go home, and pretend like none of this ever happened. And maybe, on the way I could stop by…

I could feel my heartbeat speed up as my thoughts went back to Fresh Coat again. Seriously, where was she? By all means, she really didn’t seem like the pony to just leave someone in need all by himself.

But hey, maybe she just didn’t want to stay in my room all this time. Maybe the visiting hours were over - Celestia knows what time it was, anyway. Yes, for all I knew she was just sitting in the lobby, maybe even right outside in the hallway, just waiting for me to come out.

A new surge of energy seemed to flow through me at that thought. If she was waiting for me, then I … well, I’d be damned if I’d leave her waiting! She had to know I was fine! Hell, I’d have to thank her for saving my hide like this!

With that resolution in mind, I slowly -very, very slowly and carefully- raised my upper body, and scooted to the side, freeing my legs from underneath the thin blanket and leaving them dangling from the edge of the bed.

Frankly, the mere movement itself hurt like somepony had treated my whole body with a sledgehammer, but the prospect of seeing Fresh Coat again; that relief on her face when she would see that I was fine, it would all be worth it.

Clenching my teeth, trying to brace myself for what was about to come, I tenderly wiggled myself forward until my hooves came in contact with the white linoleum floor, then, pinching my eyes shut, gave myself a shove.

My plan to get back to my hooves had one major flaw in it, though, as my legs apparently weren’t used to carrying my body’s weight anymore. They touched the ground, but gave in within a second, and caused me to topple over, making me faceplant onto the floor. Only by forcing my mouth shut could I hold back a blood-piercing scream.

Red. Glowing. Nails.

Thousands of them were being driven through my face, and only with effort could I keep my eyes from tearing up too much.

Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, I slowly shoved myself back to my hooves, straightened myself up and began limping over to what I had identified as the exit door, stinging pain spread all over the side of my face from my fall.

As I approached the doorframe, I spotted a box of tissues and a small trash can standing ready on a side table, and pulled one out with my magic, giving my now bleeding lip a quick wipe. Celestia knows I already looked battle-scarred enough with my bandages, no need to make it even worse, right?

Satisfied with the result, I lowered the now bloody tissue, and already saw myself walking out of here and right into Fresh Coat’s arms as I was about to toss the used tissue.

However, I hesitated as I spotted something lying in the trash can. Knowing that these were normally emptied after every patient, I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity awoken.

The crumpled-up piece of paper looked like it had been taken from a notepad. Levitating it closer to my face and straightening it out, I saw that there was what looked like a message written in a very familiar handwriting.

Dear Blank Slate
I don’t know how much you remember of what happened, but after you fell unconscious in the park, I brought you here. I made sure they took care of you, and your room is paid for until tomorrow morning.
I’m sorry I’m not here with you, I...

The next parts were all crossed out, and barely legible.

I just don’t know how to feel about all th
You remind me of an old friend who hurt me very badly and
I love y

I’m sorry. I just can’t do this. I think it’d be better if we don’t see each other for a while.
I’m sorry.
Goodbye.

-Fresh Coat

I had to read that last part a couple of times to fully understand just what was written there.

As my mind finally started to compute, and the true nature of what I was holding in my magic started to come crashing down on me, I could feel myself sink to my haunches.

So … this was it? This was how it all ended? A letter!? A damn letter!?

I could feel my throat getting tight, my emotions going back and forth between shock, frustration and plain and simple sadness.

Drawing in a long breath, I closed my eyes as the painful yet oh so obvious clarity became clear to me once again.

She had dumped me.

Fresh Coat had dumped me.

Just like that.

With a long, drawn-out, and utterly devastated sigh, I sank back, landing on my back with my head colliding with the ground.

That, as my stricken body was quick to remind me, had been a mistake, as an all new wave of pain shot through my head and upper body.

However, with my gaze going back to the note lying on the ground next to me, presenting me its heart-wrenching message as if to taunt me, I swear the pain in my head and body was almost drowned out by the piercing agony in my heart.

A few … hours, days, whatever, later, I was back in the place where it had all begun. Well, not exactly. The place where things had gotten serious was more like it.

I was back in the diner where Fresh Coat and me had had our first get-together a few … what was it, days ago? A week, maybe?

In any case, it was morning, a fair bit of time after I had first run into Fresh Coat.

I still couldn’t help but to shiver as I thought of what lay behind me. From the moment I first lay eye on Fresh Coat, to her trying to seduce me, the lovely evening we had spent together, to the day we had shared in this very place, getting drunk off our faces together, me bringing her to my place, our “date” in the park and … I closed my eyes, trying to straighten out my thoughts. It was all just one massive blur from there on.

After being released from the hospital a few hours after finding Fresh Coat’s utterly devastating note, facing a lack of alternatives, I had gone back home.

And there, after a night spent laying on my bed, drowning in my own misery, I had started thinking.

In short, the one, most important question on my mind was where I had gone wrong. Obviously, the fact that I was here, without a beige unicorn mare by my side, was proof enough that I had gone wrong somewhere, and I needed to know where.

Not necessarily because I was hoping to get Fresh Coat back like this. For all I knew -and cared in my tear-soaked state of mind- she was gone. Out of my life, for better or worse. Of course, saying that I was sad about that would have been an understatement, but accepting that there were things in this world one simply could not change was something I had learned early on in my life.

However, I was convinced that figuring out what exactly had gone wrong with Fresh Coat and me, and that had led to me sitting here all by myself, would prevent just that from happening again in the future, and save me from this heartbroken state should I ever be lucky enough to get into another relationship.

So I had started retracing everything that had happened during the time I had known her. Step by step, I had gone through every interaction I had had with her on that first evening, trying to find any clues as to why she wouldn’t want to be with me anymore.

Of course, the fact that I had dismissed her proposal for sex would have been the obvious choice, but the fact that she had stayed with me the whole evening and even agreed to meet again afterwards managed to convince me that this was not the reason why she had left me now.

Having re-envisioned the whole evening at least two or three times and still coming up empty-hoofed, I found myself with two options: either stop there, accept my defeat and simply give up, or proceed with my efforts to figure out what had gone wrong.

True, I might just be wasting my time, ending up with the realization that it was Fresh Coat’s and not my fault, but … well, here I was.

I gave a soft sigh as I raised my head, looking up from the lonely, miserable-looking cup of coffee in front of me -which, to my very shame, reminded me of none other than myself- and out the window next to me.

And once again, I could feel the burning fire of pain in my heart kindle just a little brighter as I felt a part of my mind wishing to see a beige unicorn mare in a fancy black dress coming walking down the street.

… And I swear it grew into a damned bonfire as I was once again reminded that she wouldn’t come - that she would never come, ever again.

Ironically, I again had to think back to what my grandpa had told me all those years ago. “Watch out,” he had said, “Mares are a dangerous pastime for the worst part. Let down your guard one second, and they’ll hurt you - like a knife through flesh.”

I shivered. Celestia knows I’d gladly cut my hoof a hundred times if it would get me back together with Fresh Coat.

I heard myself giving a deeper, longer sigh as I looked away from the window again, instead directing my gaze back to the coffee in front of me, only for it to be dragged back up again as I heard someone coming walking towards me and stopping in front of my table.

I felt my head wanting to shoot upward, a pathetic little part of my mind still clinging to the hope that it was Fresh Coat coming back to me thanks to whatever divine intervention.

However, looking up revealed the pony to be not Fresh Coat, but the waitress who probably wanted to check for any further orders.

And looking up at the cream-colored earth pony mare, I noticed that I recognized her. … Cinnamon, if I remembered correctly.

And to my very shame, she recognized me too.

“Well, would you look at that?” she asked, that very same shit-eating grin back on her face again. “Welcome back, Romeo. Where’d you leave your Juliet?”

I closed my eyes, turning my head away.

Please … just .... just stop.

“I see…” Cinnamon said with an understanding nod, “Dumped you, huh?” she comfortingly patted my shoulder, “Sorry kid. Shoulda told you she’s not one for anything long-term.”

Still not looking up, I slowly nodded my head. No shit.

“Here, tell you what...” the waitress offered in a reconciling tone, stepping away from me, only to return a few moments later with a plate which she placed on the table in front of me. Looking up just enough to see the plate, I identified it to be filled with a pile of waffles. Delicious, crispy, mouth-watering waffles.

“This one’s on the house.” Cinnamon said softly, giving me another pat on the shoulder before turning away. “You’ll get over her, trust me.”

I gave a slow, hesitant nod, more to myself than to her, before my look fell onto the plate in front of me, and I noticed my mouth begin to water. As my horn lit up and my magic picked up a fork from next to me, I could feel a smile form on my face as new hope kindled in my heart.

Cinnamon was right.

I would get over her.

Or, well, maybe I wouldn’t.

Morning had given way to noon, and noon had given way to late afternoon.

And I was still sitting in the diner, still staring into that very same cup of coffee.

Mother of Celestia, I hated coffee.

I had spent the whole day revising our stay here, looking for any clues that could have caused Fresh Coat to lose interest in me … but mostly just sitting here and feeling depressed.

Of course, the idea had crossed my mind once that I wouldn’t find the answer in here and should press on. However, it occurred to me only then that I didn’t remember where we had gone next. We had visited that beach-style bar - that I could remember, but frankly, I had absolutely no idea where that place was. Manehattan was a huge city, and all I could remember was that we had been walking for a while before settling down.

Celestia knows it could take days of coming through the city, trying to find the bar, and even that wouldn’t guarantee any success.

So, basically, I had no idea what to do or where to go next.

And to add insult to injury, it was in just this moment that Cinnamon came walking over to my table, saying the absolute last thing I wanted to hear in this second.

“Sorry honey, but I’m closing down. Hate to kick you out like this, but you can’t stay here.”

I gave a long, heavy sigh, letting my head sink, my gaze falling back onto the cup of cold coffee in front of me.

I really, really hated coffee.

“Come on now.” Cinnamon said, placing a hoof on the table in front of me, “I know it hurts, but it’s gonna go by. Trust me, I’ve been there, way more often than I’d care to admit.”

“Mhmm…” I muttered to myself, barely even listening. Yes, I knew that it’d go by, and yes, I knew that I’d been through worse, but in all seriousness, that didn’t make it any more bearable.

“Look...” Cinnamon began, lowering herself onto the bench opposite to me, “I’m sorry she’s dumped you, and I know you’re gonna hate me for saying that, but you could have seen it coming.”

I looked up at her, frowning. Well, at least I hoped I was frowning. It was hard to tell with my face still half-covered with band-aid.

“I’m serious.” The mature mare insisted, “She’s never been one to get into any long-term commitments.” she paused, doing a double take, “Well, not after that thing with her fiancé, anyway.”

“What!? Fiancé!?” I asked, looking up, my eyes widening - which was promptly rewarded with a stinging pain in the side of my face. Flinching and touching the hurting spot with a hoof, I tried again. “A-are you serious?”

“Damn kid…” Cinnamon replied, leaning forward and looking at my blessures, “Whatever happened to you?”

“...long story.” I replied numbly, shaking my aching head. “What was that part about Fresh Coat getting married?”

Despite the sorry sight that I was, Cinnamon couldn’t contain a chuckle. “No, no. She was gonna get married a few months back, but…” she cut herself off, shaking her head and eyeing me with an unbelieving glance, “So she’s never told you?”

I silently shook my head, looking at her like a deer in the headlights.

“Huh.” Cinnamon said, shaking her head, “That mare, I’m telling you.”

“So she’s … not engaged?” I sputtered out. That question in itself sounded all levels of wrong, talking about Fresh Coat of all ponies.

“Nope.” the waitress declared, shaking her head. “She was with that stallion last year.” a heartfelt smile formed on her face, “Lovely couple, really. She was all over him. Wouldn’t leave his side when she was with him, wouldn’t stop talking about him when she wasn’t. Seriously, I’ve known her all her life, but I’ve never seen her so in love.”

“...Oh.” I said, feeling the pain in my heart well up again at the thought of Fresh Coat having these sorts of feelings for somepony other than … well, other than me.

“That is…” Cinnamon continued, her smile vanishing, “Until the day they were going to get married … and he left her standing in front of the altar.”

“...Oh.” I repeated myself, feeling my own heart sink out of sheer compassion.

“Yeah.” she replied, nodding her head, “I’ve been on this planet for forty-six years now, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as heartbroken as that poor mare. She was completely out of it for a couple of days, wouldn’t let anyone near her.” she paused, taking in a breath, but then her face lit up. “But when she came back, and I was expecting her to have given up on stallions altogether, she had … well…” she gave a short shrug, “Changed.”

I nodded understandingly. Going from floating on cloud nine to bed-hopping without a care in the world was one change indeed.

But all the same, I could feel my head sink as the harsh reality became clear to me again: none of this mattered now. Because she was gone. And I wouldn’t see her, ever again.

“Come on now, don’t be so gloomy.” Cinnamon encouraged me. “Life gets hard sometimes. You just gotta learn to deal with it.”

I sighed again. So we were back to empty motivational quotes. Maybe I should just head home instead.

“Look…” she proposed, but hesitated, making me look up at her. She looked … nervous? “If it helps you feel better, how about you…” Again, she hesitated, closing her eyes and taking in a long breath before continuing, “Treat me to dinner?”

“...What!?” I blurted out, my eyes widening.

“Hey, it’s just a suggestion.” Cinnamon defended herself, shrugging, “You don’t have to, but hanging out with…” again, she shrugged, “Somepony else might help you getting your mind off Fresh Coat, and make you feel better.” she looked back up, focusing me now, “So, what do you say?”

“I … uh…” I stuttered dumbfounded, but then got a hold of myself and gave a quick nod, “Sure, why not?”

To be honest, I hadn’t fully internalized what I had just agreed to, and wouldn’t do until a few hours later, but at least in this second, I was proud of myself. I had seen an opportunity, and had seized it.

And in my defense, I had no way of knowing what fatal consequences this decision would entail.

However, at least in this second, I could feel pleasant relief wash over me as I watched Cinnamon crack the thinnest of smiles and say, “Alright then. Meet me here at the diner in two hours.”

And with that, she got off the bench, and walked over to the diner’s exit door, cocking her head into the direction of the street. “Come on, diner’s closed.”

Exactly one hour and fifty minutes later, I was standing in front of the diner again, feeling … weird.

Really, there was no better way to describe it.

I had met a cute, attractive mare, had started falling for her, had almost hooked up with her, she had left me, I was heartbroken, and … now I was on a date with a friend of hers?

I … couldn’t quite believe it myself.

Then again, for all I knew this wasn’t a legit date. Cinnamon had just seen me wallowing in my own misery, and had -out of sheer pity- suggested to spend the evening with me. A friendly gesture? Yes. A date? No.

Keeping that resolution in mind, I looked up to see Cinnamon coming walking down the street - and promptly watched said resolution go down in flames.

Walking towards me was not the friendly but -in lack of a better term- worn-looking mare I had seen in the diner.

No, coming my direction was a gracious, confident mature mare, radiating with self-esteem.

Contrary to Fresh Coat -or me, for that matter- she wasn’t wearing any fancy clothing. Her now undone dark blonde mane, as well as a plain, simple necklace was all that indicated that she wasn’t at work anymore.

And still, I could feel my heart getting just a little weightless at the thought of the two of us going on a … a date.

“Hey, sweetheart.” she said dryly as she stopped next to me, the corners of her mouth twitching upward for just a second, “You good to go?”

“Uh, yeah.” I forced out, then cleared my throat, adjusting the tie around my neck. Seeing how the shirt I had worn for my date with Fresh Coat was stained with blood and dirt and had now found its resting spot in my trash bin, the plain black tie from my graduation day was the only form of non-casual clothing I had left. And still, I felt reminded to a few days ago, as now, just like then, I felt horribly overdressed.

“Uh … where should we go?” I asked awkwardly, my look wandering around, “I remember there was a pretty nice bar here where we could-”

“A bar?” Cinnamon cut me off, a slightly amused grin on her face, “Sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but if you haven’t already noticed, I’m not in my twenties anymore. No offense, but you won’t see me set hoof into a bar anymore. … Not that kind where you would go, anyway.”

“Oookay.” I said hesitantly, giving a curt nod. She did have a point there. “So, where would you like to go instead?”

Cinnamon cracked another one of those signature grins at me. “Never properly taken a lady out, huh?” she chuckled shortly, turning around and motioning me to come with her, “Follow me, Romeo, I’ll show you how adults go on a date.”

Like thunderstruck, I looked at her in silence for a moment, letting her words sink in. Then, realizing that she had already gotten under way, forced out a quick, “Uh, alright!” and trotted after her.

This was going to be interesting.

A few minutes later, I was sitting in what felt like a very, very fancy restaurant. In retrospect, it was just an average middle-class place, but to my measly budget, this place felt like a three-star restaurant, and I was half-expecting my dinner to be served by Chef Gordon Ram-say himself.

And sitting opposite to me at a small table for two was the only mare that had managed to confuse me almost as much as Fresh Coat.

Cinnamon.

I kept my eyes pinned on her, watching her study the menu with an experienced look, but lowered my glance as hers drifted upward, instead looking back at my own menu.

I bit my lip. Having grown up in a small village, being raised in … modest circumstances, I could count the times I had dined out in my life on my four hooves. And seeing how, even after moving to Manehattan, my diet had consisted mostly of frozen pizza and canned food, I wasn’t necessarily an expert when it comes to dining-etiquette.

Pinching my eyes shut, I tried to decipher what was written in this ridiculously squiggly font, only to realize that it was the price list.

I could feel my face turn pale.

Again, this was but a middle-class restaurant we were in, but seeing how I spent an average of around three bits on food per day -convenience food was, thank Celestia, dirt cheap, even in Manehattan- anything that went beyond that was off limits for me.

But I couldn’t just say that I can’t afford eating here, right? Cinnamon was expecting me to invite her! Now how was I going to pay for all this?

My look went to the ceiling, my mind running the numbers. If I would get a part-time job, eat only oat flakes and ketchup-rice for the next two months, and nicely flutter my eyes at that one waiter, maybe I could-

“Pricy, huh?” Cinnamon asked, interrupting my thoughts and making me look back at her with my eyes wide. “Don’t worry, tonight’s gonna be on me.”

“W-what!?” I piped up, shaking my head, “N-no. No, that won’t be necessary. No worries, I have it all-”

“Shut up.” Cinnamon cut me off softly, but with emphasis.

“But-” I wanted to protest.

“Nope.” she insisted, shaking her head. “Now go pick what you want to eat, and let me handle this.”

Giving a defeated, but at the same time relieved sigh, I lowered my head, looking down at the menu, my mind by force of habit muttering a soft, “Yes, mom.”

Even as my mouth spoke the familiar phrase, I could already feel my face turning red. That had been an accident! I … She … She wasn’t like my mom! Not … not at all!

To my very relief, Cinnamon just chuckled lightly. “Right back at ya, sweetie.” she retorted dryly, not even looking up from her menu. “I know I’m old enough to be your mom, but don’t make this weird, will you?”

“Y-yes. Yes, of course.” I managed to bring out, managing to focus my attention back on the menu.

The next couple of minutes dragged on in that kind of awkward silence I had experienced with Fresh Coat not too long ago. Only that now we were facing legitimate silence - no polite conversation, no short laughs, nothing.

I found myself struggling; fighting to come up with something, anything to start up a conversation, but was surprised as Cinnamon beat me to it. Clearing her throat, sitting up on her chair and putting down the menu, she focused me with her hazel eyes - a look that already seemed a fair bit … softer than anything I had received from her thus far.

“Alright, let’s not let this get too awkward, shall we?” she began, half-jokingly, “The name’s Cinnamon Swirl, but everyone just calls me Cinnamon. Forty-six years old, born and raised in Manehattan. Divorced twice, began working at the diner at age sixteen and sorta just stuck there with the years passing by.” she paused for a second, “Now…” she focused me, cracking a thin smile, “Your turn!”

“Uh…” I stuttered dumbfounded for a few seconds, not ready to deal with this much information at once. Then, however, I managed to clear my mind, shook my head and tried introducing myself as non-awkwardly as possible.

“Well, my name is Blank Slate.” I began hesitantly, “I’m, uh, twenty-four years old. Born and raised in a small village way down south, moved to Manehattan about two weeks ago. I, uh…” I found myself hesitating, my mind bringing out the images of what had happened with Fresh Coat after I had mentioned my profession, “I’m an architect - sorta.”

“Mhmm.” Cinnamon replied briefly, nodding her head. “Interesting.”

Wait … this was it? No excitement about me being a designer of buildings? No rant about how hard and unforgiving Manehattan is? No … kiss?

I could feel a sheepish grin form on my face at the memory, only for it to vanish in the second I realized that Fresh Coat was still, by all means, gone.

But I shook my head. I was on a date, for crying out loud! Granted, it was more of a sympathy date, but a date nonetheless, and I wouldn’t let petty things like a broken heart ruin this for me!

No, this whole Fresh Coat-thing was getting out of hand anyway. She had dumped me, she was gone - end of story! If I ever wanted to get into a new relationship, I had to get her off my mind once and for all. No point in having things from the past drag me down all the time!

I closed my eyes, picturing myself putting all those Fresh Coat-thoughts and phantasies into a box and throwing them off a cliff. Out of sight, out of mind - quite literally.

And even though I could barely believe it myself, it seemed to work. I was feeling truly relieved.

Feeling a relaxed smile form on my face now that the beige unicorn mare was finally off my mind for good, I leaned back on my chair, just in time for one of the waiters to stop by our table and take our orders. I turned my head towards the mare and-

“Yeaaargh!” I wanted to scream, only forcing my mouth shut in the nick of time so as to not make a scene in this fancy-feeling place.

Standing in front of me in a white button-up shirt with a black tie … was Fresh Coat!

“Good evening, ma’am, and sir. Are you ready to order yet?” she asked us with a polite smile.

This … this couldn’t be! Was she following me!? Was … was I going crazy? Was I starting to lose my mind?

I mean … that was Fresh Coat standing there, no doubt. The color of her fur, despite being only sparsely lightened by the restaurant’s ceiling lights, was spot-on; the color of her eyes, the way she had her mane done in a big bun...

“Hey Silver. Long time no see!” Cinnamon greeted the unicorn mare with a casual smile, causing her to do a double take on the mature mare.

“Wait. Cinnamon?” her face lit up noticeably, “Oh wow, it really is you! It’s been a while! How have things been?” Her look darted over to me, and she managed to produce one of those shit-eating grins that I had seen on Cinnamon so many times, and that apparently only waitresses were capable of. “I see you got company. On the prowl for youngsters now, huh?”

Despite my confusion, I couldn’t help but to feel my face turn red at that. A toy-colt for a mature mare was definitely not what I wanted to be seen as.

“Oh, no.” Cinnamon replied with a light chuckle, “That’s just Blank Slate. He is- … used to be with Fresh Coat. She dumped him, so we’re trying to get his thoughts off her.”

“Mhmm, I see…” The mare apparently named Silver nodded her head, giving me a compassionate look, but then lightened up and offered me her hoof. “My name’s Silver Platter, Fresh Coat’s my cousin. Nice to meetcha.”

“...oh.” I said, finally starting to understand, and shook the mare’s hoof. That … explained quite a lot.

“Yeah, ponies often say we look kind of alike.” Silver Platter explained a bit sheepishly, “Sorry if I freaked you out there. Anyway…” She swiftly continued, pulling a ballpen and a notepad from her shirt’s chest pocket.

Now that her magic was actually illuminating her face, it became clear to me that, while she looked like a relative, Silver Platter didn’t look like an exact copy of Fresh Coat. Her coat was a good bit lighter than that of the painter, almost reaching white-levels, while her mane was a deep,dark brown instead of the dark gray Fresh Coat had. The most noticeable difference, however, were her eyes, which were a light green contrary to her cousin’s deep magenta irises.

“What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the insalata caprese with pesto verde, parmigiana alla melanzana, and the pignolata with some bruttiboni on the side.” Cinnamon placed her order nonchalantly, churning out those fancy terms like if it was nothing.

At my wide-eyed gaze, she just shrugged innocently and smiled. “What? I have a passion for food. What do you think made me want to work at a diner?”

“She just likes to show off.” Silver chimed in teasingly, directing her attention towards me as she a bit sheepishly admitted, “Can’t really blame her though. I’m a bit of an art nut myself, and it’s nice living your passion every now and then.”

But she shook her head, clearing her thoughts as her tone became a little more casual and she asked me, “Now, what can I getcha?”

That caused me to bristle again. Hell, she also sounded exactly like Fresh Coat when she was talking like this!

“Sorry.” she apologized a bit sheepishly, then cleared her throat and straightened herself up, trying a bit more of a professional approach. “What will it be for you, sir?”

Slightly embarrassed, but nonetheless glad that it didn’t feel like I was talking to a fancy-fied Fresh Coat anymore, I took a closer look at the menu.

“I’ll take the…” I hesitated. Blame it on the fact that I was on a would-be date, and had a doppelganger of what basically counted as my ex-marefriend standing in front of me, but I wanted to impress them … with my absolutely non-existent Italian-skills. “I’ll have the … supa dee poromorodori, please.” I slammed the menu shut, an unreasonably complacent grin on my face.

“Tomato soup, alright.” Silver Platter said, a little bluntly, and picked up our menus. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

With that, the Fresh Coat-lookalike walked away, leaving me and Cinnamon Swirl behind.

“Just soup? Are you sure?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m not really hungry.”

That … actually wasn’t entirely true. I was fairly hungry, having eaten nothing but Cinnamon’s sympathy-platter of waffles all day long. However, as much as I hated to say it, I technically really couldn’t afford eating here, and even with Cinnamon’s proposal to pay the bill, I didn’t feel comfortable stuffing myself at her expense.

“Alright.” she said with a brief shrug, “Your call.”

Focusing me, she picked up the half-filled wine-glass one of the waiters had brought us a few minutes ago, and raised it into my direction.

Getting the hint, I picked mine up as well, ready to click glasses with her.

“Here’s to you.” she said with a gentle smile, “Let’s see where this goes, shall we?”

“Sure.” I replied, finding it surprisingly easy to return the smile, and let our glasses collide with a soft clink.

Roughly at the same time, at the other end of the city, a beige unicorn mare was standing in a big, slightly shady apartment building in front of a closed door, her restless look focused on the doorbell next to it. How much time had passed since she had first pressed it? Ten seconds? Thirty? A minute?

Why wasn’t he answering?

Should she ring again? She didn’t want to be pushy, but perhaps he just hadn’t heard the bell the first time. … But he had opened the door within seconds when she had been here for the first time!

Biting her lip and feeling her heart rate increase gradually, Fresh Coat raised a hoof, pressing the button of the doorbell a second time, this time clearly hearing the telltale bell echoing through the apartment on the other side of the door.

She remained absolutely silent for a few moments, perking up her ears to hear any steps coming towards the door.

Nothing.

Feeling her ears fold back, she bit her lip, her mind being all too quick in searching for reasons as to why he wasn’t answering the door.

Why … why wasn’t he home? Hell, it was Tuesday night, not even ten o’clock, why wasn’t he home!?

She could feel herself getting more and more restless as her thoughts continued to race. Was he … maybe … asleep?

She cocked an eyebrow at that. It really wasn’t that late yet. Besides, even if he were asleep, he would have probably heard the doorbell, right?

For a brief moment she wondered if he actually knew that it was her standing in front of his door and didn’t react because of that, but she quickly discarded that thought - she hadn’t talked to him for days, and he had no way of knowing that she was here right now.

However, that left only one logical conclusion: he was out. And try as she might, she couldn’t shake the thought that he was … out. With somepony else.

Why precisely she didn’t know. It was a thought; a hunch at best.

But all the same, it made her feel uncomfortable, prompting the inevitable question if she had already lost him.

Truth be told, ever since that whole affair a few nights ago where the two had gotten hopelessly drunk; where she had kissed him, and come with him to wake up in his apartment, she had never been quite certain about her own feelings.

Well, not exactly. She knew all too well what she felt for Blank Slate, the problem merely was that she didn’t want to have it true.

Because, no matter what, the chances of her getting hurt seemed higher than ever.

This was the reason why she had decided against her original plan to take the injured Blank Slate to her place after their encounter in the park a few days ago, and had instead sacrificed her savings to bring him to a hospital.

She … just hadn’t been able to stand it anymore. Seeing Blank Slate lying there; hurt, battered, barely recognizable with his face covered in bloodied bandages … it had broken her heart.

And that realization was what had set off all the alarm bells in her head. If him taking a stand for her and getting beaten up could cause such emotions within her, she didn’t dare imagine what could happen if … if he would ever … leave her.

So she had decided to call a halt before it was too late, leaving him to wake up alone -again- but this time without the prospect of doing something as friends. Because really, this whole ‘just friends’-things wasn’t working - at least something she knew for certain. Their get-together in the park had proven to her all too clearly that the two could either be together as … more than friends, nor not together at all.

And in fear of getting hurt again, she had decided for the latter option. That is, she had tried to. But ultimately hadn’t gotten herself to let him go entirely, instead asking him for some time to come to terms with her own feelings.

An announcement she had meant, really. She had known that she would get back to him eventually once she had a clear idea of what she wanted - and as fate willed, she had come to a conclusion just a few hours ago.

She had decided for him.

She knew that relationships could cause a great deal of pain, but at the same time also recalled all the great moments she had had with … with him.

And who was to say that things wouldn’t go a different way with Blank Slate? Yes, she knew that there was a chance that he would hurt her, just like he had, and by Celestia, she didn’t know if she would survive a second time, but … what if he wouldn’t?

What if, after she had explained her feelings to him, he would confess his love for her as well, the two would get married with Cinnamon as her maid of honor, they would have a dozen foals and live happily ever after?

Yes, it was an exaggerated phantasy, but who in Equestria said that relationships always had to end badly? Heck, if she didn’t give it a shot she would never know if maybe, despite everything, Blank Slate was the lid for her pot? Maybe the two really were soulmates; destined to be with each other for all eternity.

Really, who could tell that for certain?

Well … she sure couldn’t.

Letting out a sigh and letting her head sink, Fresh Coat finally looked away from the doorbell, accepting the fact that Blank Slate wasn’t home.

...And promptly fighting down the voice in her head that suggested that he was out seeing another mare.

Really, this was just ridiculous. It had been two days since their encounter in the park, what reason would he have to be dating someone in the middle of whatever chaotic state their relationship was in right now?

Shaking her head, Fresh Coat took a step back from the door. This was just getting ridiculous.

But still, she couldn’t help but to wonder … where was he? Could he be visiting his family? Out with friends? Or just out there doing … architect-stuff?

But what was she going to do? Even she knew that waiting here all night for him to return would come off as more than just a little creepy, but … she couldn’t wait till tomorrow!

She had decided in favor of him! She had finally overcome her own demons and opened herself to a new relationship! This wasn’t just some average everyday decision! It was something drastic! Something game changing! And she needed to tell him! Not tomorrow, not later, but right now!

But how?

She could feel teeth clench in frustration as she was once again reminded that she had no idea where to find him.

But she couldn’t handle the suspense! She needed to know how he would react! She wanted to hear him say that he liked her … that he loved her even!

But … how!?

Pinching her eyes shut, Fresh Coat rubbed the side of her head, muttering a curse under her breath, then shook her head.

This was all too much. She needed to talk this through again. She needed to get those thoughts out, if not to Blank Slate then to anypony else.

… And she knew exactly who she could talk to!

Feeling a new smile form on her face as her frustration began to vanish, Fresh Coat straightened herself up again. She let her gaze linger on the door for another moment or two, but then turned around and headed back down the stairs again.

Yes, she was going to meet up with her, and get those thoughts out of her mind.

Feeling her grin widen ever so slightly as those worries seemed to slip off her back, Fresh Coat reached the house’s entrance door, and passed through it, stepping out into the nightly air.

Yes, Cinnamon would understand.

Some time later, I was in … a bit of a strange position. In more than one regard.

I was on Cinnamon’s couch.

And she was spooning me.

I mean … what?

Granted, I didn’t mind in the slightest in this moment. We had shared a truly pleasant evening in the restaurant, talking about ourselves, about our lives and their greater meaning … an interesting talk, really.

I had found out that, besides cooking, which she had implied earlier, Cinnamon also had a passion for gardening. She even had a small roof-garden where she grew her own ingredients for her cooking-ventures. She had told me a bit about her past partners, about how she shared Fresh Coat’s opinion that being single was a truly pleasant state, and that she wasn’t looking for a relationship as well.

So, all things considered, it had seemed like she was still just seeing this as a pity-date.

So how had I ended up snuggling up against her like I did now?

Well, for one both of us had had our fair share of wine. While I was far from a connoisseur, even I could tell that the restaurant had quite a decent variety of wines, and I blame it on her passion for cooking and flavors in general that Cinnamon had made me try the majority of wines on the menu.

The topic of our talk had changed after a few glasses. I had told her about my experiences with Fresh Coat, beginning with our date in the park, me getting beaten up, our trainwreck of a date the day before, and of course, last of all, the day that had started it all, and how I had decidedly not slept with her that night - a statement that gained yet another shit-eating grin from my entourage.

Granted, that still doesn’t explain why I had agreed to coming back to her place, let alone joining her on her -extremely comfy- sofa, but hey, after spending so much time talking about Fresh Coat, I had been starting to feel lonely.

And as odd as it may sound … and it could have very well been due to my higher-than-average alcohol level, but I may or may not have started to see something in Cinnamon Swirl - in spite of her being almost twice my age.

So yeah, that happened. We were … snuggling. On her couch. I was the small spoon.

And Celestia damn me if I didn’t enjoy every second of it.

I really couldn’t quite explain it. I hadn’t really known Cinnamon for too long by then, and even then she had always seemed like the brusque-but-lovely aunt type of mare. However, during the course of the evening -and I’m not saying that alcohol didn’t play a role here- a certain part of my mind couldn’t help but … like her. In a very specific type of way.

It might have been caused by the utter lack of contact with mares during the past months, but lying here, feeling her chest against my back, her heartbeat against my spine, and her long mane against the back of my head … it filled me with a secureness I hadn’t felt for years.

Was this weird? Probably. Wrong? All sorts of.

Could this be turning into a mother-complex on my side? Possibly.

Did I give even the slightest amount of shits in this moment? Not. Even. One.

Letting out a content sigh, I lowered my head, rubbing it against her mane lying underneath me. It smelled of vanilla.

“Y’know…” I said, but it probably was more of a slur in my stage, “I never thought I’d enjoy something like this.”

I could hear her smirk, her soft breath hitting my ear and making it twitch.

“‘S what they all say. Momma knows her craft.” she gave a short laugh, then her voice became serious again. That is, as serious as she could get, seeing how she was fairly intoxicated as well, “Never been with someone as young as you though.”

Now it was my turn to smirk. “There’s a first time for everything, huh?”

She giggled softly, sending shivers down my spine. “Ayep.” she leaned forward, grabbing my ear with her mouth and softly nibbling on it, “I don’t really mind though.”

At the contact, I let out a deep sigh, feeling my body relax and letting my eyes drift shut. This was … so great. I finally had somepony by my side. Granted, it wasn’t Fresh Coat, and even in my drunken state I couldn’t deny that I’d still prefer having her nibble on my ear, but … hey, you can’t have ‘em all, right?

Feeling a smile form on my face as bliss washed over me, I could feel a pleasant shudder run through my body.

Forget Fresh Coat, I had Cinnamon now.

To my very disillusionment, though, it was in this moment that a knock came from the entrance door of Cinnamon’s apartment.

Hearing -and feeling- the mare behind me give an annoyed sigh as she stopped the nibbling on my ear, I decided to be a gentlecolt today and, muttering a curt, “Don’t worry, I got it.” freed myself from her grip and arose from the sofa, slowly making my way into her hallway.

“Who could that be?” I could hear the intoxicated mare behind me muse, “Lil’ late for mail, isn’t it?”

“Hmm..:” I muttered back, finally stopping in front of the door and putting my hoof on the handle. Securing my stand -hey, standing on only three hooves is hard when you’re a little tipsy!- I pushed the handle down, and opened the door.

My eyes widened.

“Silver Platter!” I wanted to shout with delight as I saw the unicorn mare standing in front of me.

Blame it on my intoxicated mind, but it took me way longer than what would have been appropriate to realize that the pony in front of the door, while sharing a fair bit of attributes with the waitress, was indeed not Silver Platter.

But even then, I hadn’t quite understood the severity of the situation, as my drunken mouth swiftly carried on, “I mean … Fresh Coat! Watchu doing here, girl? I ain’t seen you in ages!”

Apparently it also took the mare in front of me a few moments to realize just who was standing in front of her, smelling like a whole wine cellar. But to be fair, I was fairly sure this could not be blamed on her drinking too much -she was quite obviously sober- but on the sheer surprise she saw herself faced with in this second.

“...Blank!?” she asked, gawking at me like a deer in the headlights. It was by then that I noticed her red eyes, and the dark rings underneath them. Either she hadn’t slept too much recently, or cried a lot - maybe both. “What … what in Equestria are you doing here!?”

“Fresh Coat?” I could feel my ear twitch as the voice came from behind me, revealing that Cinnamon had also made her way to the front door. She, however, was a little quicker in catching up, as her look went from Fresh Coat, to me, before she lowered and shook her head, muttering a weak “Oh Celestia.”

“What are you-” Fresh Coat wanted to ask, but cut herself off as she, too, was starting to understand just what was going on here. “Oh no.” she muttered breathlessly, her unbelieving stare darting from me to Cinnamon and back, “Oh no you didn’t.” Gradually, the confusion on her face started to vanish, making way for an emotion I had never quite seen on Fresh Coat: anger. “Oh no you didn’t.” she repeated herself, her features hardening with every second, “Oh no you fucking didn’t!”

“Look Fresh,” Cinnamon started an attempt of explanation, but was cut short, “It’s not what it-”

“You shut your filthy whore mouth!”

Even in my intoxicated state, I could feel my jaw drop as I watched Fresh Coat take a threatening step towards the waitress, her still red eyes now torn wide open in pure rage, “I can’t believe it! Here I am, spending the last two days trying to figure out my own feelings, coming to you for advice…” she pointed a hoof at Cinnamon, “And what do you do!? You’re dating him behind my back!? Are you kidding me!?”

At that, Cinnamon just took a step backward, swallowing.

“And you!” Fresh Coat turned towards me, the fury of a thousand suns burning in her eyes, “Who do you think you are, huh? Pretending to be all heartfelt and deep and shit, just to cheat on me with my friend the second I turn my back on you!?”

“You … you dumped me.” I defended myself weakly. I was going to go on about how I had spent the past two days being devastated about just that, but frankly just didn’t have the power, neither did Fresh Coat give me a chance to do so in her tirade.

“I did not dump you!” she yelled right into my face, causing my ears to fold back instinctively. “I said I needed time, and that we shouldn’t see each other for a bit. I did not break up with you!”

She took a step back, all of her muscles tensing up, yet unable to express the boiling rage that was inside her. “For pete’s sake!” she cried out, and I swear I could see new tears rolling down her face, “How could you do this to me!? Fuck! Fucking shit!” she stomped the ground, her head turning to the side, “Shit! I swore to myself I’d never do this again! I knew relationships were bad! I knew feelings were bad! Fuck you for making me believe otherwise!” she spat at me, her eyes seeming to stare right into my soul.

She stiffly shook her head, seeming to clear her thoughts, then continued.

“You!” she pointed a hoof at Cinnamon who was standing behind me with an abashed look on her face, “You’re a backstabbing whore! I should’ve never listened to you when you told me to give him another chance!”

“And you!” Now she turned back to me again, causing me to flinch ever so slightly. Locking eyes with me, she said her next words slowly, and with emphasis. “You’re a disgrace to ponykind. I hope you know that.”

With that, she turned around, shook her head and stomped the ground again. “God, I need to get out of here. I hope you both rot in hell!”

Watching her stomp down the stairs towards the exit door, then looking back at Cinnamon who was still motionlessly standing behind me, I could feel my head sink.

Why couldn’t it have been Silver Platter?

Chapter 6

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Have you ever like … woken up, and instantly found yourself wanting to never wake up again?

Waking up, feeling like the biggest piece of shit on this planet and, even worse, knowing that feeling that way is absolutely right because you are the absolute biggest piece of shit on this planet.

Trust me, it wasn’t nice.

It must have been around noon when I came around, based on the sun shining on my face and roughly awakening me from a dreamless sleep.

Giving a groan and pinching my eyes shut, I rolled over.

I didn’t deserve this.

I didn’t deserve being able to roll over, I didn’t deserve lying in this bed, I didn’t even deserve Princess Celestia’s glorious sun shining down on me.

Because really, right now the pony lying in my bed was among the most despicable creatures I could think of.

I had screwed up.

I had screwed up … big time.

After the … encounter with Fresh Coat last night, Cinnamon didn’t even need to throw me out - I had gone home on my own accords. After coming through the door and doing my best to avoid looking at any mirrors in my apartment, I had dropped into my bed - and hadn’t gotten up since.

Honestly, I had screwed up before; I had felt miserable before, but never before had I been so tempted to throw myself off the next best cliff and free the world from the eyesore that was the pony named Blank Slate.

Fresh Coat … had still believed in me. Hell, the way she had acted last night made it clear that she was -or rather had been- feeling something for me, and she probably would have gotten back in touch with me the next day to talk things out.

Hell, for all I knew I could be on a new date with her right in this second.

Seriously, if I had only … thought! If I had only seen the signs! Of course Fresh Coat hadn’t dumped me! For crying out loud, her note explicitly said that we shouldn’t see each other for a while! A while wasn’t forever! A while could have just as well been two days!

If only … if only I had used my head … and waited, instead of jumping on the next best opportunity - or … pony, for that matter.

Heck, I couldn’t even blame Cinnamon. She had seen me wallowing in self-pity, and had proposed getting dinner together. Nopony, nopony had forced me to say yes! And even during dinner, nopony had forced me to think these thoughts about her, nopony had forced me to drink this much, and Celestia knows nopony had forced me to come back to Cinnamon’s place.

I was the only one to blame.

Fresh Coat hated me - that was all it took to seal my defeat. Even without closing my eyes or explicitly thinking about it, I could see her standing in front of me, calling me a disgrace with tears running down her face - tears I was responsible for. Tears I had made her cry. That thought alone was enough to send another wave of self-loathing through my mind.

I let my head drop, pulling the sheets over my face.

Shit. I hated myself so goddamn much.

Why couldn’t I just … just … do the right thing for once!? Why did I always have to screw up everything I touched?

“Shit!” I cussed, the thick blanket muffling my voice.

Then came silence, only broken by my own heavy breathing. For a few moments, I just sat there, feeling my own hot breath against my face, reflected by the sheets, and smelling the alcohol in it.

I felt like I was about to suffocate.

Crap, I needed to get out of here! I needed to get out of my bed, out of my apartment, out of the house! I couldn’t stand being here, alone with my own thoughts, any longer!

I could feel my discomfort grow with every second as I kicked off the blanket, jumped out of my bed and to my hooves -which involved more standing still and re-gaining my balance than I would care to admit- and quickly trotted to the exit door.

I needed to get myself out of this place. To clear my thoughts, and get this whole affair off my mind, at least for now.

It was … I don’t know … probably an hour or so later when I finally stopped, raised my head and for the first time since leaving my house began taking in my surroundings.

I was in a … park? Really, while walking during the past hour I had paid no mind whatsoever to where exactly I was going. I was just walking. Walking to clear my thoughts; walking to get those feelings out of my head, and bring some new thoughts in.

And it had worked, really. I actually was feeling better. Not good or even ‘not bad’, but feeling shitty was still better than feeling utterly and totally miserable, right?

Right?

I shook my head. I was feeling better. That’s all that counted.

Lifting my head and looking around, I inspected my surroundings. This place looked like any other park in Manehattan, really. There were benches here, trees, ponies running around…

Still, I couldn’t shake the thought that this place looked familiar … maybe it was-

My eyes widened as I recognized that bench.

“Sweet Mother of Celestia, no.” I mouthed, my eyes widening.

As much as my mind protested against it, my legs began walking again, taking me to a place I still remembered all too well.

“No no no…” I muttered to myself as I reached a truly nice-looking piece of meadow - surrounded by a few trees, it seemed like the ideal place for a picnic of sorts.

I could feel my heart rate increase as my eyes scanned the grass in front of me - and tasted bile in the back of my throat as I spotted the still remaining bloodstains sprinkling the grass.

My bloodstains.

I could feel myself sink to my haunches, the images of what had happened here forty-eight hours ago rushing past my mind’s eye, and the pain caused by the bruises and still remaining wounds on my face flared up as if to remind me that this affair still wasn’t over and done with.

I sighed, letting my head hang low.

This thing wasn’t going to let me go this easily, was it? Even while walking, without thinking about it, with no destination whatsoever, my legs had subconsciously taken me back to the park where things had taken a drastic turn.

Was this some kind of sign? Were the princesses up above trying to tell me something?

My eyes went skyward as if expecting to find the answer there, shining down on me like guiding sunlight.

All they spotted was a sky covered in thick gray clouds.

No sun for Blank Slate today.

I had to do something. I couldn’t run away any longer.

I had hurt a pony I liked, maybe even loved, and destroyed her friendship with what could have very well been the oldest friend she had.

And as much as I wanted to just stick my head in the sand and sit all this out, I knew that I had to do something; anything. Hell, even if Fresh Coat would still hate me, and Cinnamon would never want to see me again for getting her into all this -both scenarios seemed pretty likely at this point- I still had to try and patch their friendship back together.

I knew this wouldn’t be the answer to all things, but it would be a start. And if they should decide that I was worth their friendship … well, it would be a nice side effect at least.

With that resolution in mind, I got back to my hooves, my eyes resting on my own blood in front of me, before turning around and trotting back out of the park at a brisk pace, well-knowing what the first step in my endeavor for reconciliation would be.

Or, well, maybe not.

It was late at night that same day. Or early morning the next day, I really wasn’t sure. After getting home, full of determination, I had sat down on my sofa, intending to come up with a plan on how to fix Fresh Coat’s and Cinnamon’s friendship … and hadn’t really done anything since.

My head was spinning, my vision was blurring, and it was getting hard to breathe in my airless living room, yet I couldn’t find peace.

The main reason why I was still sitting here, despite being exhausted and dead-tired, wasn’t because I didn’t know how to apologize to the two mares -that seemed easy, really- but where things were going to go after that. Or rather, where I wanted things to go after that.

Because, as if all that chaos between the two I had inflicted hadn’t been enough, now I was starting to question my own feelings as well.

Namely, who -in a perfect Equestria where conflicts and jealousy didn’t exist- I would want to be with - Fresh Coat or Cinnamon.

This conflict had seemed ridiculous to me at first, really. Leaving aside the fact that Cinnamon was almost twice my age, and that she clearly didn’t seem interested in me in that way, it was Fresh Coat who I had felt connected to from the moment we had first met. She was the one that had made me stutter; that had caused me to deny great sex out of fear of losing her, and that had made me throw together horrible abominations of sandwiches just to make her stay with me for a little longer.

So why couldn’t I stop thinking about Cinnamon, then?

Was it because she had been the one making the first move by (more or less) asking me for a date? Was it because our ‘date’ had been so nice and quiet, without any drama or major incidents - until the end, that is. Or was it because she reminded me a little bit of my own mom and I just felt safe and secure with her around?

A shudder ran through my body at that. Yes, I loved my mom, but mixing the two ponies up just caused all those phantasies of mine to get crazy weird in an instant.

In any case, Cinnamon was on my mind just as much, if not more, than Fresh Coat, and I knew that, even if I should be lucky enough to get back together with one of them, chances are I’d have to hurt the other to accomplish it.

Well, not like I hadn’t already hurt one of them, but … that wasn’t the point.

Of course, I could just take the ‘easy’ way out, apologize to the two for the damage done, and be on my merry way. With a city as large as Manehattan, chances are I’d never see them again.

But just like on the day when I had first met Fresh Coat, I was quick to realize that I didn’t want to let her ... to let them go this easily.

But who was I more focused on? Who should I try pursuing something greater than friendship with? … If I would ever get the chance, that is.

Yes, Fresh Coat seemed like the perfect candidate, but … but I couldn’t get Cinnamon out of my head either, so there had to be something about her, right?

Right?

I gave a long sigh, dropping my head.

Being sleepless about mares … I used to think that, being out of school, I had left those sorts of things behind me, but apparently my past was catching up with me yet again.

Only that now, asking my mom, dad or even my big sister for advice was not an option. They were hundreds of miles away, and while I was able to enjoy the technological luxuries of Manehattan, the only way of reaching my family in their village was the old-fashioned letter. And I was sure, if this whole thing wouldn’t be resolved by the time I would hear back from them (which could be anything between five days and six weeks) I would probably go insane.

No, I needed to resolve this myself, and I needed to do it now! By all means, it wasn’t like I could allow things like these to keep me up day and night. Not only because I was worried about my own sanity, but because …

I swallowed, my guilty look wandering over to my drawing pad standing next to my sofa. It might have been my sleep-depraved and dead-tired mind, but I swear there was easily an inch of dust on it.

I still hadn’t worked on that school-project. I mean, not that I had any hopes of winning anyway, but it was the only thing I was currently working on, as my professional life had basically come to a screeching halt the day I had my living room re-painted.

But if I wouldn’t win if I wouldn’t try, right? A voice in my head spoke up.

As if by command, I could hear Fresh Coat’s words in the back of my head, asking me to never change who I was, saying that I'd be 'the best damned architect this city has ever seen', and I could feel myself wanting to tear up all over again.

I had to do something! I had to resolve this!

But what? I mean … I really, really liked Fresh Coat, but even if she would forgive me and give me a second chance, what if I would end up realizing that I liked Cinnamon more after all? Celestia knows the last thing I wanted was for the events of that night to repeat themselves a few months down the road.

I closed my eyes, giving a pained sigh and lowering my head.

Why did life have to be so goddamn hard?

Letting out a long, exhausted breath, I slowly slipped to the side, my head colliding with my sofa’s cushion, as I finally felt the much-needed sleep come over me.

By Celestia, I hoped everything was going to be good again the next day.

It wasn’t.

I was doing … better, but still not good. And I knew that I wouldn’t be able to feel genuinely good again until I had done what I needed to do.

Which, as a matter of fact, was exactly what I was about to do.

It was mid-afternoon when I stopped in front of the diner. My vision was swimming ever so slightly, and I had to blink more often than normal to make sure my eyes wouldn’t just slam shut from sheer exhaustion.

But I needed to do this. If I couldn’t (read:didn’t have the balls to) talk to Fresh Coat yet, the least I could do was talk with Cinnamon, and clear out whatever it was that was between us.

Which was, for all intents and purposes, nothing, really.

This was pretty much the only result of the sleepless 24 hours that lay behind me. If I ever wanted to have a chance at getting those two back together, let alone get a second chance with Fresh Coat, I had to end whatever it was that I had with Cinnamon Swirl.

Which, once again, was nothing at all. Nada. ничего.

Yes, we had had a pleasant evening, and at some point there might have been something within me that could have remotely compared to feelings for her, but I had ended up blaming that on my higher level of alcohol.

She had seen me wallowing in misery, had offered me a chance to clear my mind, and everything after that was solely attributable to alcohol, nothing else.

She wasn’t interested in dating me, and I wasn’t interested in dating her, simple as that.

With that resolution in mind, I put a hoof on the doorhandle, opening the entrance door to the diner and stepping inside.

Instantly, the welcoming scent of freshly baked waffles hit my nostrils, and I could hear my stomach grumble in response, reminding me that the last thing I had eaten had been … something. A fair while ago.

But I shook my head. I couldn’t appear as the hungry, lost little colt again. Not after what had happened last time.

As if by command, I could hear steps sounding through the still relatively empty diner, and looked up as I saw Cinnamon come from behind the counter.

“Good morning, what can I-” she wanted to begin, but cut herself off as she saw me. Her face, hearty and friendly at first, changed to a look that seemed almost apathetic. “Oh, hey.” she greeted me briefly.

“Hey. How’s it been? Can we talk for a moment?” is what I would have said normally. I had come here to clear out whatever it was that was between us - to end something that had been doomed to fail from the beginning.

However, the second I had seen her … hell, I don’t even know. My mind just went deaf. For whatever reason, seeing her again overwhelmed me with feelings - memories, of me cuddling up against her on her couch, feeling her fur against my back, the soft scent of her mane beneath me…

Stuttering, my mind tripping, I stood there in silence, just glaring at her with a thousand yard stare.

“So … I guess you wanna talk, huh?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

I gave a curt nod, then closed my eyes, taking in a long breath.

“Alright, focus!” the drill sergeant in my head piped up as my mind slowly descended into chaos, “Just tell her what you thought about earlier! Tell her that you enjoyed her company, but that Fresh Coat is the one for you! Tell her that you hope she understands, and ask if you can stay friends. That’s how you handle these kinds of situations, right?”

“I…” I hesitantly began, trying to keep eye contact with her, but ending up looking down instead. “I, uh ... “

“Come on, just say it! She’s an adult mare, it’s not like she’s going to make a scene!”

“I love you!”

My eyes widened as my mouth went rogue, sputtering out the confession.

Truth be told, it probably wasn’t love. I might have been crushing on her, but even now I could tell that true love was something different.

Nevertheless, I had just confessed that I loved her. The words were out, and now all I could do was wait and see how she would react.

Biting my lip, I slowly lifted my head to see her reaction. It was … not quite what I had expected.

“No you don’t.” Cinnamon replied soberly, shaking her head, “Cut the crap, will you?”

“B-but I-”

“Come here.” she said briefly, motioning me to sit down at a nearby bench seat.

Hesitantly, I obeyed, planting myself opposite to her, my eyes never leaving her.

“Look … Blank.” Cinnamon began slowly, looking me in the eyes with a serious glance. To my surprise, the look in her eyes wasn’t that of someone who was about to ditch you, all watery-eyed and sorry. No, she looked like she was just explaining me the weather or something. “You don’t love me. And I don’t love you.”

I expected myself to flinch at the blunt declaration, but was surprised that I didn’t react in the slightest.

“We had a fun night together, I’ll admit that.” Cinnamon continued undeterred, “But the two of us…” she pointed her hoof at me, then herself, “Aren’t in love. And will never be. You know why?” she asked, her hazel eyes seeming to stare right into my soul.

Slowly, numbly, I shook my head.

“Because you love Fresh Coat, you idiot!” she declared, leaning forward and giving me a symbolic smack on the forehead.

“B-but I … we-” I wanted to protest, having a hard time believing what she had just said.

“You don’t remember too much of that night, do you?” Cinnamon asked me dryly. “You know, between us leaving the restaurant and ending up at my place?”

I looked to the ceíling, thinking for a moment, but then shook my head. Really, it was all just one big blur to me.

“You talked about Fresh Coat. Non-frickin’-stop.” she explained with a deadpan expression, “Seriously, it was cute at first, but even after you told me that story of how she got shitfaced in that bar and kissed you for the fourth time and I told you to stop, you just wouldn’t stop!”

“I … oh.” I heard myself mutter, my head going down.

“No need to feel ashamed for it.” she said with a smirk, “Like I said, it still is kinda cute, but you gotta stop telling yourself that you’re interested in me. Because even if you were…” she cocked an eyebrow at me, “Sweetie, no offense, but I’m twice your age. We really wouldn’t make for a good couple.”

I looked at her in silence for a few moments, letting her words sink in, then slowly nodded my head. “Y-yeah.” I slowly said, “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.” she retorted, once again chuckling lightly, but then her face got serious, “Now, the obvious question: how are you going to handle things with Fresh Coat?”

I looked at her in silence for a moment or two, then let my head sink in defeat. “I … have no idea.”

“Well, tough break.” Cinnamon said, a touch of empathy in her voice, “At this point I doubt she’ll just come crawling back to you.”

I flinched at that ever so slightly. Yes, she was right. But she didn’t have to rub it in my face like this!

“Well, what are you going to do?” I returned the question, trying to get myself out of the line of fire. “She didn’t seem like she was any less mad at you than she was at me.”

“You’re right, she isn’t.” Cinnamon agreed with a soft nod, “And I know that I have to apologize to her. I hurt her just as much as you did, and I know she won’t forgive me easily.”

“So … any suggestions?” I inquired carefully, still cherishing a little bit of hope that she had some form of Deus ex machina up her sleeve.

“I do have an idea.” she said softly, “But I’m afraid you’ll have to come up with something yourself.”

At my questioning look, she elaborated, “Look, we both screwed up - can’t deny that. But just walking up to her together and saying ‘we’re sorry’ just won’t cut it. Hell, it might just make things even worse!”

Reflecting, I slowly nodded. She was right. For all we knew Fresh Coat might just end up thinking that there was … something between Cinnamon and me after all.

“So … what do you think I should do?” I asked, clinging to that bit of hope that she would come up with a way to turn it all into peace, love and rainbows. “I mean, you’ve known her all her life, right?”

Confirming, the mature mare nodded her head. “I did, yeah. But I’m afraid you won’t like what I’m about to say.”

“What is it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I really was grasping at straws at this point.

“I know it might seem like it, but Fresh Coat isn’t by any means a simple mare.” Cinnamon explained thoughtfully, “And she doesn’t forgive easily.”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded, feeling my throat getting tighter. This was … not exactly what I had hoped to hear.

“And trust me, if there’s one thing she hates, it’s being taken for an idiot.” Cinnamon continued, keeping her eyes focused on me, “So if you’re going to apologize to her, make sure you mean it. And don’t expect her to take you back just because you’re sorry. That’s not how mares work, I’m afraid.”

“Okay…” I replied, feeling my hopes slowly turn to dust, “Any- anything else?”

Cinnamon shook her head. “Nope. That’s all I can tell you.” with that, she slowly arose from the bench, getting back to her hooves, “Sorry, but I really gotta get back to my guests.”

She stood up, but turned her head back at me again, locking eyes with me. Slowly, tentatively, she added, “I’m sorry for what happened. Best of luck with getting her back. I know you can do it.”

With that, she turned way, continuing with her tour through the diner, serving guests, and leaving me sitting in -what I noticed in exactly that moment- that very same stall where I had first sat with Fresh Coat.

Feeling my head sink, I let out a heavy sigh, my look going out the window next to me.

Once again, no dress-clad unicorn mare coming walking down the street to meet me here. Not now, and for all I knew probably never again.

“I … really need to fix this."

I didn’t know what I was doing.

I didn’t know why I was doing it.

I didn’t even know if it was the right thing to do.

But I knew that I had to do it. To keep my own sanity intact, if nothing else, I needed to do this. My conscience wouldn’t leave me any rest otherwise.

Keeping those words in my head so as to keep my mind from drifting too far off, I stood there. In what had to be the only apartment building in all of Manehattan that looked more rundown than my own without being declared uninhabitable, in front of a single wooden door.

I had to get this over with. There was no turning back now.

Swallowing and licking my dry lips, I reached out a hoof, pressing it against the button of the doorbell. A simple, two-tone bell came from the other side of the door.

A few moments later, I could hear slow, heavy steps came walking towards the door, shortly followed by a heavy sigh and a groan.

“Who’s there?” the most beautiful voice on this planet asked from the other side.

I bit my lip, feeling my heart pick up the pace. I only had this one shot; I had to make it count.

But … but I couldn’t tell her that it was me, now could I? She probably wouldn’t even open the door for me at this point.

Hell, this whole affair had happened only two days ago; Celestia knows she could just still be mad at me.

But I couldn’t go back now. I had entered the shark tank, so now I had to go shark-wrestling.

Closing my eyes to focus, I kicked my mind into a higher gear.

“Come on, you can do this!” I told myself, “You’ve sweet-talked mares before! Just use your charme!”

“Uh … delivery-service!”

I wanted to facehoof. Really? This was the best I could come up with?

“... I didn’t order anything. What’d you bring?”

“Well, crap. Focus already! Just focus! Come up with a witty response!”

“SanDWiCheS!”

...way to go, Blank Slate. Smooth as silk today, aren’t we?

I could hear a sigh from the other door, followed by a long period of silence.

I was already starting to accept the fact that she had recognized me and now would simply leave me standing out here, when the door got opened and a very … worn-looking Fresh Coat peeked her head through the gap.

“What do you want here, Blank Slate?” she asked me, sounding not annoyed or angry, but simply … exhausted.

A voice that, by all means, matched her appearance perfectly. Her mane, while normally not being too orderly to begin with, was a total mess, hanging randomly into all directions and looking, in lack of a better term, sticky.

Same with her fur, which was unkempt in various spots, and looked like it hadn’t been groomed in days. To top her ‘I don’t give a shit’-look off, big dark rings adorned her eyes, and her facial expression managed to convey equal amounts of disgust and disinterest as she saw me.

And still, in this second she couldn’t have been more beautiful to me. The mere fact that I was seeing her again with my own eyes; that I was standing here, right in front of her, taking in her lovely sight, listening to her lovely voice … it made me hate myself for ever questioning my affection towards her.

Unfortunately, however, these feelings didn’t seem to be mutual, as Fresh Coat reacted to my entranced silence and lovestruck look with nothing but a roll of her eyes and an annoyed sigh.

“What the fuck do you want here?” she snarled at me, her face now clearly expressing annoyance. “I’ve got nothing more to say to you.”

“I…” I stuttered, still pretty much flabbergasted by her mere presence. “I, uh … I wanted to, uh…”

“Ask me to take you back?” Fresh Coat asked grimly, “Then you can fuck right off.”

She already was about to close the door, but I -for once thankfully thinking quick- put a hoof between door and doorframe.

“No!” I quickly declared, “I just…” I sighed softly, “I wanted to apologize. I … didn’t realize what a short-sighted moron I was, and…” I paused, my mind involuntarily going back to the events of that night, “I can’t even begin to imagine how much that must have hurt you, but…” I fell silent, losing myself in my own words, leading Fresh Coat to raise a skeptical eyebrow.

Sighing again, I shook my head, clearing my thoughts and starting a second attempt. “I don’t want you to take me back. I don’t deserve you, and probably never will.” I said slowly, tentatively, “And I’m not asking you to forgive me. I know what I did was wrong, and I can’t blame you for being mad at me for doing it. I just … I want you to know that I’m … truly sorry. … That’s all.” I finished, finally breaking eye contact with her and looking down. “I know you don’t want me back, and you shouldn’t, but I needed to get that off my chest. I’m sorry.”

With that, I took my hoof from between her door, and took a step back, turning away, ready to leave her once and for all.

“Blank.” I could hear her voice behind me, making me stop and turn around, looking at her with the tiniest bit of hope within me.

“I talked with Cinnamon earlier today.” Fresh Coat slowly explained, her look never leaving me, “She told me what happened. That she came up with all this, that she got you drunk, and that she suggested going back to her place. She was under the impression that she was helping you by getting over me, and had no evil intentions.” she clarified, a touch of sorrow in her voice. "And she told me that ... nothing serious happened."

“I shouldn't be mad at her for trying to help a mutual friend, and I shouldn't be mad at you for thinking that what we had was over.” She closed her eyes for a second, shaking her head, “Leaving that note was stupid of me. I should have just stayed and told you in person.” She focused me again, her look clearer this time, “But for all you knew, it might have very well been over. I understand that now.”

“So…” I asked cautiously, tilting my head to the side, “We … we’re…” I hesitated, unable to bring out the question I so desperately wanted to ask. Was she … was she saying that we still were … ?

“No.” she said briefly, making my hopes and dreams go down in flames like the Hindenburg. “I understand that you were thinking I had broken up with you, and I can’t blame you for that, but…” she closed her eyes, and I was sure I saw a tear on her cheeks, “Blank, you went on a date with one of my best friends just one day later.” she said, opening her eyes again and revealing that there were indeed tears on her face.

I opened my mouth, wanting to defend myself, but she shut me up with a raised hoof. “Yes, I know that you were just trying to get over a broken heart, but…” she shook her head, locking eyes with me again. “Seriously Blank, if you can get over whatever it was that we had this quickly, how do I know you won’t end up dropping me again? Who can guarantee me that you won’t just leave me the second you meet someone better if breakups are such laughing matter to you? How do I know you won’t…” she pinched her eyes shut, looking to the side as her voice broke, “hurt me?”

“B-because I won’t!” I stuttered, watching helplessly as tears ran down her face, “Fresh, I swear I’d never do that! You … you mean more to me than-”

“Don’t waste your breath.” she cut me off softly, but with emphasis, looking back up again and wiping a hoof over her face. “I got hurt by a buck once, and I don’t want it to happen ever again. If I mean that little to you; if you can get over me in just one afternoon…” her eyes began to tear up again, but she fought to keep herself together, “Then we really aren’t meant for each other.”

“B-but I-”

“I’m sorry Blank.” she whispered weakly, stepping back inside and putting a hoof on the door to close it, “Please … go. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

She gently shoved the door shut, keeping her eyes locked on mine as her face slowly disappeared behind the wood.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, just as the door was about to close, “Goodbye.”

Chapter 7

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Fresh Coat … hated me.

That was the last clear memory I had for quite a while.

I don’t remember falling to my knees in front of her door, more out of sheer hopelessness than sadness. I don’t remember eventually making my way back home, knowing that nothing would await me there but an empty apartment with a neglected drawing pad. I don’t remember stumbling into my hallway, collapsing on my sofa, and lying there for … well … for longer than what would have been healthy, really.

The following days were all just one massive blur to me. I lived off what little food was left in my fridge, continued to more or less successfully ignore my drawing pad silently collecting dust, and pretty much didn’t do anything other than lying on my sofa day and night, wallowing in self-pity, wishing I was back at my parents’ place, long before I had to deal with things like work, feelings, or mares.

I was homesick, heartbroken, and on the verge of bankruptcy.

Mother of Celestia, it wasn’t a good time back then. I hated Fresh Coat for rejecting me like this, hated Manehattan for making us meet in the first place, but most of all I hated myself for being so damn stupid!

Seriously, all I had to do was join her in the shower all those weeks ago. We would have fucked, fallen in love, had a hundred foals, and lived happily ever after, right?

Right?

Well, in retrospect I see how ridiculous that sounds, but it were exactly these thoughts that were holding me awake those nights. Thinking about what had happened, what was going to happen, but most importantly what would have happened if…

If I hadn’t met her in the first place; if I had accepted her offer for shower sex; if I had waited for her to get back to me after waking up in the hospital; or if I simply hadn’t opened the door that fateful night at Cinnamon’s place.

I would be happy; she would be happy. It would all be good now.

But it wasn’t. I was feeling shittier than I ever had, being all alone, condemned to live a life as a loveless loner because I had squandered my chance with the only mare that had ever truly liked me.

Really, I had hit rock bottom. And it wasn’t nice.

But Celestia damn me if I wouldn’t do it all over again in the blink of an eye.

Because as much as those days devastated me on both, a mental, but also a physical level -spending days on your couch and eating nothing but junkfood isn’t that healthy- they ultimately led to things ending the way they did.

And boy, with how they ended, I surely was in no position to complain.

But first things first, it was a Thursday afternoon, exactly four days after I had last spoken with Fresh Coat, when I was once again lounging on my sofa, thinking about how much I hated myself for the twentieth time, when I noticed something.

From that angle at the very end of my sofa, I could look through the doorframe into my hallway. And there, situated right next to the door, hanging from a nail I remember all too well driving into the wall, I suddenly found a purpose.

Slowly, my eyes never leaving the object, I arose from the sofa, slowly making my way through my pearly white living room and into the hallway, where I stopped in front of it.

'Paradise - by Fresh Coat'

Looking at the painting that had basically saved me all those weeks ago, I could feel the cogwheels in my head begin to turn.

Slowly, carefully, I leaned forward, placing two hooves on either side of the painting and carefully taking it off the wall.

Gradually, the dots in my head connected, and I could feel the weakest of smiles appear on my face as a literal lightbulb lit up over my head.

Yes, this wouldn’t cause her to suddenly fall for me.

And yes, I probably had blown all my chances I had ever had with her.

However, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t put my time and efforts to good use and help out a struggling artist.

Right?

About an hour later, I was back on the streets of Manehattan after what felt like an eternity spent isolated in my apartment. Rolled up and hidden safely in a saddlebag on my back, I was carrying the reason why I had come here.

Lifting my head and looking around, I scanned the surrounding businesses. I was in a fairly decent neighborhood, with parks and small stores on either side of the road. And to my very relief, up ahead I spotted the entrance to what still looked like a rather fancy restaurant.

Breathing out a sigh of relief now that I had gotten the way here right, I tried to clear my thoughts, getting my words out and ready.

I had to recall to myself a couple of times that this was indeed not some elaborate plan to get Fresh Coat back, and that I was indeed just trying to do a service for an underappreciated artist - a friend, at best.

So why couldn’t I drown out that little spark of hope in my mind that told me that she would simply take me back after all this?

Really, I didn’t know. And I tried not to think too much about it. Get things done now, worry about my own feelings later.

With that resolution in mind, I banned the beige unicorn mare from my mind as good as possible and stepped towards the door, only for it to be opened as somepony stepped outside.

Only by containing myself could I hold back a surprised gasp.

It took me a few seconds -longer than I would care to admit- to once again realize that the light cream-colored unicorn mare was indeed not Fresh Coat, but the pony I was here for. Her formal waiter’s uniform had been replaced by … well, by nothing. She wasn’t wearing anything, which, at least to my eyes, made her look even more like Fresh Coat.

“S-Silver Platter?” I asked as she came walking through the door, lifting her head as she noticed me.

“Oh hey, uh … Blank Slate, right?” she asked, her face lighting up a bit more than what must have been normal for most ponies, “How ya doing?”

I couldn’t contain a bristle as my mind once again blindly assumed it was Fresh Coat talking to me.

“I’m … I’m good.” I managed to reply, “Actually, I’m here because I wanted to talk with you. … Ask you a favor, actually.”

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, “Uh, sure. What’s up?”

“It’s, uhm…” I hesitated, tilting my head into the direction of the makeshift parcel I was carrying with me, “It’s a bit of a longer story. Could we go inside?”

“Sure!” Silver Platter replied unhesitatingly, prompting me to go inside with a gentle motion of her head towards the door, “We’re doing some renovations at the moment, but as long as you don’t mind some … paint…” she fell silent just as I had opened the door and peeked my head inside.

My breath caught in my throat.

Right ahead of me, her back facing me, focused on painting the dark red wall in front of her with a light cream color, she was.

Fresh Coat. In all her glory.

She was back in her everyday apparel - her mane dun in a big bun, the trashed ballcap sitting atop her hat, and that casual, easy-going grin on her face that had rendered me speechless so many times.

Hell, I could feel my legs going weak just from seeing her.

And this time, I was sure, it was not because her painting-stance revealed her still impressive backside.

“Back again, Silver?” I could hear her ask without turning her head, “I hope you got that new bucket of paint, I’m almost out.”

Mother of Celestia.

I could feel my legs wanting to give in, breathing becoming shallow, and heart pounding like crazy.

Just … just from hearing her voice, I would feel myself want to … want to-

I held back a gasp as I was grabbed by a hoof and pulled back outside before Fresh Coat could spot me.

“Hey!” Silver Platter hissed a bit sharply, “I said, it might be better if she doesn’t see you. I wasn’t there to see what happened between you two, and I’m in no position to judge, but I know her, and I know it’s better to leave her alone at certain points.”

I looked at her blankly, only slowly recovering from what still felt like a minor heart attack.

“So what’s up?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I, uh…” I muttered, my mind still absent, until I shook my head and focused on her again, “Uh, yeah. About that favor…” I hesitated, my mind bringing out last-minute doubts about whether this was a good idea. But looking at the curious glance at Silver Platter, I knew that pulling out now would probably only cause trouble.

So I slowly, hesitantly, slipped off my saddlebag, placed it on the ground in front of me and opened it.

“You said you had a thing for art, right?” I asked without looking up from my bag.

“Uh, yeah.” Silver replied, a little confused, as she spotted the scroll in my bag, “Why’d you ask?”

“I … have something I was hoping you could help me with.” I explained as I pulled it out, stripping off the rubber band used to keep it together, “I have this … painting, which I’m hoping to get out there.” I unwrapped the painting, presenting it to her, “Is there any chance you … you know … know someone?”

“Oh?” Silver Platter said, cocking an eyebrow, her look resting on me, “I didn’t know you were an artist. Cinnamon said-”

But she fell silent as she finally lowered her glance, and her eyes took in the picture I was holding up.

“Wait.” she said sharply, her eyes widening in surprise, “Where … where’d you get that?”

“I … bought it.” I said, giving her the elevator pitch of how I bought the painting at that art fair a few years back.

“That…” she stuttered, her eyes blinking with disbelief, “That’s Fresh Coat’s!” she declared wide-eyed, and for a moment I was afraid she’d accuse me of stealing it. The cream-colored mare closed her eyes, reflecting, “I saw it hanging in her room like … five years ago. That was one of the first things she's ever painted. She always seemed pretty proud of it, but then all of a sudden wouldn’t stop saying that it’s crap and eventually just said she’d tossed it.”

I nodded, listening to her explanation in attentive silence.

She smirked, nodding into my direction as I re-wrapped the painting so as to not get any dirt on it. “Kinda funny that it ended up with you though. But how come you-”

She silenced, her eyes widening abruptly as she seemed to count one and one together. “Oooh.” she said, looking at the restaurant’s entrance door next to her, “Ooooooh.” she repeated herself, looking at Fresh Coat’s painting, before her gaze finally came to rest on me and she produced another one of these smug grins, “You’re a fox, you know that?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing what she was on to. “Look, it’s not what you think it is. I know I’ve blown my chance with her, and she said herself that there’s nothing I could do for her to take me back, but…” I sighed, feeling my heart sink. “Really, I just want to see her happy. She’s got talent, and deserves better than to spend her lifetime painting random idiots’ homes. ... No offense.”

A moment of silence passed as Silver Platter just looked at me, and slowly, a smile formed on her face. “You’re a sweetie. You know that?”

I could feel my face turn red at that. “I … I just want to-”

“It’s alright.” Silver Platter cut me off gently, “I’ll see what I can do.” she said, taking the wrapped painting off my hooves with her magic, “But I can’t make any promises.”

“Alright.” I replied briefly, “Just … please don’t tell her I was here. I don’t want to seem like a creep.”

“No worries.” Silver said, finally producing a smile, “I’ll make sure she won’t notice.”

“Thanks.” I said, finally managing to smile as well, “I owe you one.”

A few days later, walking into a small diner sitting aside one of Manehatten’s busiest main roads came a fully restored-looking, smiling unicorn mare with a ballcap.

Taking a deep breath of the lightly waffle-scented air, Fresh Coat smiled, and walked over to one of the stalls with a spring in her step, humming a happy melody as she sat down.

It didn’t take longer than a few moments before the head waitress came walking from behind the counter and stopped in front of her, a casual smile on her face.

“Hey Fresh.” she greeted her customer and friend briefly, “How are things?”

“Hey Cinnamon!” Fresh Coat returned the greeting gushingly, a cheerful smile on her face, “Sure has been a while, huh? Feels like forever to me! Anyway, I’m doing good. Great, actually. I’m doing great! I’ve never felt better!” she assured her friend, grinning broadly.

The mature mare silently looked at the widely grinning Fresh Coat for a few moments, then gave a sigh, closed her eyes and shook her head.

“What?” the still smiling unicorn mare asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Fresh, please.” Cinnamon said dryly, shaking her head again, “You’re better than that.”

“What are you talking about!?” Fresh Coat asked, seeming legitimately confused now, “I told you I’m fine! I’m doing better than ever!”

“Fresh Coat.” Cinnamon said again, a little more determined this time, and lowered herself onto the bench opposite to her. Locking eyes with her, she asked, “How long have you known me now?”

Raising an eyebrow but still not stopping her grinning, Fresh Coat tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean? I’m fine, I told you!”

“Fresh Coat.” the waitress said again, her voice getting sterner, her eyes never leaving the grinning unicorn mare. “Listen. I was there when you were born. I changed your messy diapers, I watched you take your first steps, I walked you to your first date!” she explained, gently knocking her hoof on the table to underline her statement. Pausing for a second to let her words sink in and gaining nothing but a confused look from Fresh Coat, she continued, “So don’t think you can fool me. Don’t even try.”

Shaking her head, Fresh Coat wanted to protest, “B-but I’m-”

“Quit it.” Cinnamon cut her off sternly, “I can read you like a book, Fresh Coat. Hell, any idiot could see that you’re in denial!”

“I…”

“Look…” Cinnamon said, rolling her eyes, “Let me break it down for you. I can tell a mile off that there’s something eating away at you. And if you wanna talk about it, I’m right here.”

“I…” Fresh Coat said again, her smile slowly vanishing and a look of desperation more and more spreading across her face, “B-but I’m fine! I’m telling you, I’m-”

“Let me say that again.” Cinnamon added slowly, almost menacingly, “You can either talk about it, or get your sorry butt outta here.” At her friend’s appalled look, she added, “I’m serious. I want to help you, and I’m always here if you want to talk, but I can’t stand watching you sit here, trying to fool yourself.” She knocked her hoof against the table again, “So spit it out, or get outta here.”

“I, uh…” Fresh Coat muttered, hesitating, fidgeting with her hooves as she fought with herself, but then let out a heavy sigh and looked down. “I … I’m not okay. This whole thing with Blank, it’s just…”

She gave a brief sigh, looking up at Cinnamon with begging eyes, but gaining nothing but a nod and a brief, “I’m listening.”

“I mean … he hurt me.” she admitted ruefully, “But … but I still can’t stop … thinking about him. I mean, he came to apologize to me, and I sent him away, and I was sure it was the right thing to do, but ever since then…” she gave an exasperated sigh, her face turning red, eyes wetting, “He just … just won’t get out of my head!” she paused for a second, looking up at her friend, who just nodded with an understanding look.

“I mean, what if sending him away was the wrong decision? What if I ruined any and all chances I might have ever had with him? Or what if I … hurt him like … like he hurt me?” she cut herself off, quickly shaking her head, clearing her thoughts, “I mean, I like him, I really, really do, and I’d love to be together with him, but … but what if he’ll … he’ll …”

She cut herself off, her tearish eyes seeking contact with those of her seating partner.

“Hmm…” Cinnamon said after a brief moment, giving a reflecting sigh. Then, finally, she looked up. “Wanna hear my advice?”

“Yes!” Fresh Coat affirmed with wide eyes, her face lightening up, “Yes, please.”

“Alright.” the waitress replied, taking in a short breath, “There’s only one thing you should do at this point, and I can promise it’ll make things a lot easier.”

“What is it?” Fresh Coat asked with a hopeful look.

“Get your head out of your ass!” Cinnamon snarled, seeming legitimately angry for a moment. Fresh Coat flinched, looking at her with eyes widened in shock.

“I’m serious!” the mature mare confirmed, “He loves you and you love him! It’s that simple!" she proclaimed, knocking her hoof on the table, "All you gotta do is…” she clenched her teeth, “Just do it! Quit fussing around! He won’t be here forever!”

“But … but what if he’ll-”

“Yes, what if he would!?” Cinnamon countered fiercely, seeming fed up with her friend’s whining. “You’d be down for a few days, eat a tub of ice cream and then get back to your hooves. Heartbreaks happen, breakups happen. How many ponies here in Manehattan do you think are heartbroken right now?” she shook her head for a brief moment, her eyes widening as she continued, “But what if he won’t!? What if he’s the one for you!? What if, in forty years, you’ll be looking back to this day and thinking ‘Well golly, I shoulda listened to that old hag instead of just burying my head in the sand and pretending everything’s fine all those years ago!’ What are you gonna do then, huh?”

A moment of silence passed, and Cinnamon calmed down before she locked eyes with Fresh Coat again and added, “You can’t turn back time, Fresh Coat. Trust me, I’ve made my fair share of bad decisions in my lifetime, and still, if there’s one lesson I’ve learned, it’s that we only regret the things we don’t do. Because, even if a no might feel like a punch to the face for a second, it’s still better than having uncertainty eat away at you for years on end.” she closed her eyes, giving a brief sigh. “Trust me, that was a hard lesson for me to learn.”

Another moment of silence passed. Fresh Coat continued to just stare at her friend in awestruck silence as the mature mare slowly composed herself again and started another attempt. “Look, just imagine what would happen if he’d come through that door right now with another mare by his side. How would you react?” she asked with a sinister look.

“I … I don’t think I... “ Fresh Coat stuttered, a look of worry forming on her pale face. “I … I think I’d…”

“Yeah. You’d hate yourself. You’d hate yourself for not doing what you could have done when you could have done it!”

“And … and what am I supposed to do?” the painter asked cautiously.

“Hell, after all I just said, do I really need to tell you?” Cinnamon asked with a serious look, “Go get him!” she shouted, pointing a hoof at the diner’s exit door. “The longer you wait, the smaller your chances will be. So don’t squander it! Get yourself out there, find him and make amends!”

Still visibly baffled, but stunned by her friend’s commanding tone, Fresh Coat hesitantly obeyed, arising from her seat.

“Go!” Cinnamon shouted again, making Fresh Coat give a short jump and briskly walk over to the door.

“T-thank you…” Fresh Coat muttered timidly as she slowly opened the door.

“You can thank me when the two of you are married.” Cinnamon retorted dryly, but couldn’t contain the thinnest of smiles on her face. “Now go and get him!”

This was it!

Yes, this was it!

This was destiny. This was the point in her story when things would take a drastic turn; when she would come back to the pony she loved; when he would take her into his arms, kiss her, and make it all okay.

She would see Blank Slate - hug him, explain it all to him. She would apologize, he would apologize. He would embrace her; hold her tight; tell her that everything would be okay.

And he would be right. Because with him by her side, she was sure ... she was positive that it’d all be okay from now on.

Yes, this was the point. The point where her ... where her very own, personal happy ending would begin.

At least, this was what she kept telling herself as she lay in her bed, sobbing, burying her face in her already tear-stained pillow.

She couldn’t do it.

She couldn't go and see him.

Because he didn't love her.

At least not after she had sent him away.

Finally something she was sure of.

Hell, she could still hear the sound of his heart breaking as she had shut the door on him. Why; why in the world should he give her another chance?

Just to think ... if he would come back to her, asking for a second chance ... hell, she'd probably knock out two of his teeth. One for leaving her standing like this, and another one for having the audacity to come crawling back to her after all he had done!

A shudder ran through her body.

She had gone from sufferer to punisher. The mental image of her sitting in her room, devastated beyond repair the day after her almost-wedding was now replaced by one of Blank Slate in a similar situation - only that now she was the villain of the piece.

She had sent him away; she had broken his heart ... and she would be the one to blame if he'd jump off a skyscraper tomorrow.

Fresh Coat clenched her teeth, another shudder shaking her body.

That thought had struck a nerve.

But all this … all this had been wishful thinking; from the very beginning. The mere thought that somepony could be having these kinds of feelings for her … it was just plain stupid! All this was stupid!

Who could love somepony like her, anyway? Hell, past experiences had shown all too clearly how utterly incapable of being in a healthy relationship she was! For crying out loud, her fiancé had left her standing in front of the altar; if that wasn’t a clear sign that she just wasn’t destined to find love, then what was?

She sobbed again, her hooves digging into the mattress.

Fuck! All this was just … so unfair! Why did life have to be so goddamn hard!? She never asked for this! Any of this! It all used to be so easy!

When had she gone from being that cheerful, motivated and confident art-student to … whoever it was that was lying in her bed right now?

When had it all began going downhill?

She closed her eyes, taking in a long, deep breath, then opened them again, looking up at her ceiling.

Oh Celestia, what she’d give to have somepony to comfort her now. A … buck, maybe? Someone who had moved here not too long ago. Maybe a certain type of … architect?

Fresh Coat cringed, her face screwing up as the memory of Blank Slate returned, and she was once again reminded that ... well, that he was gone.

No, not that he was gone. That she; she and nopony else, had sent him away when he had come to apologize.

And she was the only one to blame for being alone now.

Another sigh escaped her lips as she rolled over on her bed.

Truly, words could not express how much she hated herself in that second.

However, as fate willed, it was in exactly this second that the telltale sound of a knock on her door echoed through her apartment, and made her ears perk up.

A couple of days had passed since I had met up with Silver Platter.

Now I was back in front of that all too familiar apartment door, tightly holding on to the small, white envelope I had found in my mailbox earlier this day. Having opened and read it the second I had seen it, I had to contain myself not to jump with joy at the message that was inside.

And looking up at the door ahead of me, I knew I was hoping for a similar reaction from the pony I was about to face.

Of course, there was a chance this would only make things worse, but even in that case, I cherished a little bit of hope that, after that, it’d be over once and for all; that she’d be off my mind for good after one final rebuff.

But I shook my head. Positive thoughts was what I needed; no more doom-mongering until I had received a clear no from her.

With that, I slowly raised a shaking hoof, and knocked against the door. My heart rate had increased gradually, and I could feel it reach a new high point as I heard steps coming closer; steps that already sounded a good bit … healthier than those I had heard the last time I was here.

For just a second, I felt my mind overwhelmed with doubts just as the steps stopped.

I … I couldn’t do this! She would hate me! She … she would never take this the right way! She would refuse me; she would-

But just as I was about to turn around and make a run for the exit, the door slowly slid open, and looking back at me was a Fresh Coat that looked only marginally better since last time I had stood here. Her appearance didn’t look quite as unkempt anymore, though that empty look and the weary eyes were still there.

This time however, I was partly surprised, partly relieved to see that, upon seeing me, her face didn’t turn into a grimace of annoyance or disgust, but merely one of surprise, as her eyes widened dramatically, and she stared back at me like a deer in the headlights.

“B-Blank?” she stuttered disbelievingly, seeming to hardly believe it herself.

“L-look, hear me out please! Please!” I sputtered out, her mere presence still managing to baffle me after all this time. “I promise I won’t bother you for long!”

“W-what … what are you…” she muttered, seeming to have trouble speaking, “What are you doing here?”

Again, I was expecting her to turn sour and kick me out any second now, but she still seemed like she could hardly believe that it was me standing here.

“I … I…” I stuttered helplessly for a few moments, before finally producing that white envelope and holding it out to her in a trembling hoof in a vain attempt to play it cool. “I ... I got this in the mail the other day. T-thought it might interest you.”

Still wide-eyed, Fresh Coat looked at my outstretched hoof for a long moment, then back up to me, and for a second I was worried she might not want to participate in whatever games I appeared to be playing with her and simply send me away.

However, I gave a mental jump of joy as her horn lit up, and her magic took the envelope from my hoof. “I … I … you…” she muttered as she opened the envelope, pulling out the paper inside, “I … I was just about to … to..."

She slowly fell silent as I watched her eyes travel over the thick, fancy piece of paper. Of course, I had read it before, so I knew what it said.

It seemed Silver Platter had really made an effort for her cousin. The letter confirmed that a small art gallery -whose name I kept forgetting- in lower Manehattan had received my submission, and would be more than happy to display it for the general public - a small financial reward included. It also said that the gallery will gladly have a look at any further submissions from this still unknown artist, should she ever want to share more of her art with the world.

I watched the disbelief on Fresh Coat’s face gradually vanish, replaced by confusion as she read the letter a second and third time, then looked back up at me, as the confusion was replaced by even more disbelief.

“What did you … did you…” she muttered; her look went back to the letter, then the penny finally dropped and her eyes widened - of course, she knew there was only one thing I could have submitted.

“No.” she gasped unbelievingly, “No you did not.”

Despite my nervousness as I couldn’t anticipate her reaction, I couldn’t help but allow the smallest of grins form on my face.

“I did.”

“You … you did…” Fresh Coat gasped again, shaking her head with what I hoped was disbelief and not anger. “I … I … I can’t-”

“I do care about you, Fresh Coat.” I said, gently so as to not overwhelm her, “I know you have potential you’re not using, and I want to see you out there.” I swallowed, feeling my mouth going rogue as it continued to talk without my mind’s blessing.

“We both know that painting walls isn’t what you’re meant to do. You have potential, and you’re not using one bit of it right now.” I bit my lip, trying to stop my mouth from saying that next part, but it was already too late.

“I care a lot about you. I know you think I don’t, but I do. And it’s tearing me apart seeing you squander your life doing something you don’t want to do just because somepony may have once told you that your art is bad. There will always be critics, but the worst you can do is stop drawing because of them. That’s not what being an artist is about!”

A short period of silence followed as my words faded, and I shook my head, finally getting a hold of my mouth again.

“Really, that’s all I wanted to tell you.” I said briefly, looking at Fresh Coat who was still looking back at me with a thousand-yard-stare, her breathing ragged and shallow. “You told me to follow my dreams, no matter what, during that night at the bar, now I’m telling you to do the same. You only have this one life; don’t waste it doing something you don’t want to do.”

With that, I had said all I wanted to say, and slowly turned around. I didn’t know what she would think of me now, but I had done what I wanted to do - my conscience was clean.

“B-Blank.” I could hear her weak, trembling voice speak up behind me, and turned back. What I saw was … surprising, to say the least.

Fresh Coat was crying. And assuming grandpa’s lessons in Mares 101 hadn’t completely failed their purpose, I was sure these weren’t tears of anger or pain she was crying.

“I … I…” she gasped between more and more sobs breaking forth, “I’m so sorry! I … all this time you’ve been trying to show me- ... and I just … just …” she fell silent, losing herself in muffled sobs.

A few moments of silence passed, and I was fighting with the desire to go ahead and give her a hug - by all means, it seemed and felt like the right thing to do, but knowing Fresh Coat, that might just end up dooming whatever it was I was working towards here.

However, a few seconds later, Fresh Coat finally got a hold of herself again, wiped her face with a hoof, and looked back up again.

“I’m … I’m sorry. I … lost myself a bit there.” again, she shook her head, taking in a deep breath, “It’s just that … I was just about to see you and…” she gave a sigh, hesitating for a moment before gently shoving her door wider open with a back hoof.

“I ... really think we should- … I mean, I would like to talk. ... W-with you.” she said, timid like I had never seen her before. “C-could you- … I mean, would you like to … come inside?”

Chapter 8

View Online

A few moments later, I was sitting upright on Fresh Coat’s sofa, trembling with anticipation, but pleased to some extent nonetheless.

She hadn’t kicked me out yet; she hadn’t punched me in the face, and hadn’t told me to screw off - so far, so good.

And now she was here, sitting right next to me … Fresh Coat.

Words can’t express how odd it felt having her this close to me again after not seeing her for so long; after everything that had happened. Needless to say, I enjoyed every second she was near me, but it felt bewildering nonetheless, and some skeptical voice in my head kept warning me that she would kick me out for whatever reason any second now.

So far, however, nothing too major had happened. She had allowed me inside, we had sat down on that black three seater of hers … that was just about it.

Hesitating, fighting with myself, I looked over to her, just to find her looking back at me with a somewhat nervous glance, but look away as she saw my head turn.

I knew I had to say something, but like so often with her around, found myself at a loss of words. She had said we needed to talk, right? But … but what if that was just an excuse to ask me back inside? What if … what if she wanted to make amends after all?

I could feel a tingle of excitement in my guts at that thought, but it was fought back down all too quickly - no point in getting my hopes up now.

Instead, I continued to look at her, opening my mouth to say something; anything to break this awkward silence.

“I…”

Well, aren’t I just the master of conversation?

“Hmm?” I heard Fresh Coat ask as her head turned back towards me, and my heart skipped a beat, realizing that I had her attention.

I closed my eyes, struggling to come up with something to say, but ultimately just settled for the first and most obvious choice on my mind.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized briefly, “For all this drama. I know I screwed up a lot of things recently; hurt a lot of ponies in the process, and I regret every second of it.”

At that, Fresh Coat looked at me in silence for a few moments, before she shook her head and gave a soft sigh.

“I’m not any better, am I?” she asked, a forced smile forming on her face, “Just barging in on you and Cinnamon just while you two were getting it on.”

“Fresh, please.” I said, begging with her.

“Sorry.” she said curtly, screwing up her face, “That sounded funnier in my head.”

Now it was my turn to sigh. It was clear that she wanted to do something about this awkward silence, but joking about things that had affected us all so badly really wasn’t the right way!

“Look…” she started over after a second, “I know you care about me. And I really, really do appreciate you trying to help me and get my work out there, but…” she shook her head, closing her eyes. “I don’t know. This is weird. Everything is weird. My whole damn life is weird at the moment.” she explained wearily.

I opened my mouth to say something; to tell her that this wasn’t a bad thing, and that I could help her through whatever it was should she need help.

However, before I could do so, Fresh Coat leapfrogged me, looking up and changing the subject. “Anyway,” she began, her voice back to its ever-cheerful and carefree tone - at least for the moment, “Anything I can get you? Water, maybe?”

I bit my lip, my mind hissing a curse. Damnit! Really, this whole situation seemed so easy to resolve! She needed help; someone to hold onto, and stay by her side. I needed her! So how come we were just sitting here pretending like nothing was wrong instead of doing the right thing and helping each other out!?

With a brief sigh, I cleared my thoughts, calming myself down. I was back with her for now, and she didn’t seem to be that raging mad at me anymore. So there was progress, right? And for all I knew, maybe I would end up reconciling with her on this very day.

“Hmm?” Fresh Coat asked again, and I noticed that I hadn’t replied to her yet.

“Uhh…” I muttered, noticing only now that my throat felt dry as dust, “Some … some water would be nice.”

“Water, got it!” she affirmed with a quick nod of her head, dashing off to what I presumed was her kitchen.

Slowly, I leaned back on her sofa, sighing with what I wasn’t sure was frustration or relief.

However, I tried to find solace in the thought that I had made it this far - and from the way she had acted earlier …

I had to fight with myself to contain that sheepish grin. True, her behavior after reading the letter might have implied that there was … something she was feeling for me, but knowing myself, I was fairly sure I would blow it if I would think too much about it.

Instead, I shook my head, clearing my thoughts again.

I was here; that was a start. Everything else was still open.

With that, I leaned back again, feeling slightly relieved at last.

However, that feeling of relief was quickly replaced by one of discomfort, as I felt a slight but noticeable pressure come from my bladder.

Seeing that Fresh Coat was still busy in the kitchen, I slowly arose from the sofa, getting to my hooves. Even with almost two weeks between now and getting my face smashed in in the park, I could still feel the slightest bit of ache remaining. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

Suppressing a groan, I looked around, spotting a nearby door to my side and, assuming that it would lead me to the desired bathroom, opened it and, led by lower instincts, swiftly stepped inside.

So, before I used to think her little apartment was plain, as the walls were completely white and the only color that even came from the room was the mismatched furniture, but here beyond this particular door was a whole other story.

In front of me I saw paintings on walls, walls with painting, paper and pencil drawings pinned on those walls, one whole mural and two sculptures. There were paintings of mountains and landscapes thronged with trees. The sketches were basic outlines of ponies in particular poses, but after a closer look I guessed they could have been NSFW.

That thought sparked a bit of blush, but my attention was drawn to what I thought to be the prized piece of the exhibit. It took up one whole wall and stood from floor to ceiling.

This thing was the aforementioned mural - and a large one too, as one could imagine. It even had scaffolding standing midway up to allow her to reach the ceiling with her magical grip and paintbrush.

Pictured in the mural was a magnificent landscape: rolling hills with elevated clouds and a figure standing in the foreground, overlooking the mountain that stood above the clouds like an island in the middle of the ocean. It truly was a masterpiece, and just from looking at it for a short moment, I felt awestruck.

“Wow.” I vocalized as I was lost for words. I mean, I knew that she had a talent for painting. The painting that used to hang on my wall back home proved that more than anything else. But this … this just burst all limits of what I had ever thought her capable of.

Really, if this was what she could do … there was so much more she could do! Sweet Celestia, this thing belonged into a museum! She belonged on the walk of fame!

Without thinking further, I turned around … and stared right into a pair of beautiful magenta eyes that were wide in shock.

Fresh Coat was standing right behind me. And from the look on her face, it seemed like she was going to suffer a heart attack any second now. Her eyes never leaving mine, she was staring at me like a deer in the headlights, and I only broke eye contact with her as the glass of water she had been meaning to bring me fell from her now vanishing magical grip and to the floor where it shattered with a loud clank.

“Fresh?”

“The door was supposed to be locked.” she nervously muttered, her body seeming to tremble ever so slightly. Before I could say anything else Fresh Coat had rushed behind me and was pushing me out while closing the door to her gallery. “It was supposed to be locked.” she said again, sounding utterly distraught as she rushed away once again only to return with a keychain and lock the door.

“Fresh, wait!” I didn’t know what she was on about. Had I done something wrong? She looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown, so was I really not supposed to have seen that room?

“What the hell?” I couldn’t help but ask as she lowered the keychain and let her head hang low, giving an exasperated sigh, “What was that all about?”

Fresh Coat took a moment to reply, keeping her look focused on the ground in front of her hooves and probably getting her words out ready. Then, finally, she looked up and into my direction and timidly muttered, “You … weren’t supposed to be in there.”

“But why!?” it burst out of me. Seriously, she made it sound like I had found her secret stash of severed heads or something. “What you have in there…” I continued, thinking back to the mural, “It’s amazing!”

“No it’s not!” Fresh Coat fired back, her head turning red, “It fucking sucks! It’s terrible, that’s what it is!”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” I asked, unable to understand her sudden anger, “Why are you keeping all this hidden in there? Things like that belong in a gallery!”

“No they don’t.” Fresh Coat replied bitterly, closing her eyes. I was sure I saw a single tear running down her face, “They’re terrible, and nopony should have to see them.” She paused for a moment, seeming to think about what she had just said, but then focused me, and I could feel my heart sink as the bitterness in her face turned into anger.

“And you weren’t supposed to be in there!” she snapped at me, pointing an accusing hoof into my direction, “This is my place, and you had no permission to snoop around and waltz in there like it’s a clearance sale!”

I opened my mouth to defend myself -I had, after all, just been looking for the bathroom- but was cut short as Fresh Coat’s hoof shot forward, pointing at her apartment’s entrance door behind me and she hissed, “Get out!”

“Look, I’m sorry!” I started an attempt to console her, but without success, as she merely repeated the motion with her hoof and threw another, harsher, “Get out! Now!” at me.

I locked eyes with her, hoping that I could somehow make her understand that it was an accident, and that I didn’t mean to hurt her like this. Not again. Never again.

But it was futile. As the pretty mare repeated her ‘get out’ motion for a third time, I gave a defeated sigh, not wanting to provoke her any further, lowered my head and walked towards the exit.

As I stopped in front of the door and Fresh Coat’s magic opened it for me, I turned around to give her a final, begging look. “Look, I really am sorry. I had no idea-”

“Leave.” she cut me off bitterly, tears now freely running down her face, “Just go.”

I gave a brief sigh, but, realizing that resisting was futile, stepped outside into a darkened staircase. I turned around, wanting to offer her a final apology, but was cut short as the door was slammed into my face - possibly the clearest of all signals that I was no longer welcome.

Feeling myself getting near tears of frustration as well, I hissed a curse. What was wrong with this mare!? Or, more importantly, what was wrong with me that her throwing me out had felt like a sledgehammer to the face?

Seriously, she was probably crazy - had some sort of complex, some undisclosed desire or whatever. She wasn’t the first mare that had gone sour like this and thrown me out at the mention of a seemingly meaningless subject. And to be honest, I had never cared too much about these. If someone had thrown me out like this … well, that was their call. I would shrug, say “Screw them.” and move on with my life without looking back.

And especially after somepony had toyed with me like this … I mean, she had offered herself to me, I had declined, I had invited her to a date, she had kissed me. Then she had almost dumped me, I had gotten my face bashed in, she had left me, I had hooked up with her friend, she never wanted to see me again, I had apologized to her, she didn’t accept it, then I had come back and…

I gave a groan, rubbing my head.

Seriously, why didn’t I just let it go? Everything this mare had put me through … all the confusion, all the pain, and all the heartache … and yet I always kept coming back to her.

What in Celestia’s holy name was wrong with me!? Did I have some form of pain-addiction? Did I enjoy being toyed with and then dropped like a used condom?

Seriously, I didn’t know.

What I did know, however, was that moving on -or taking a single step to begin with- seemed utterly impossible with the knowledge that Fresh Coat was mad at me yet again.

I wasn’t exaggerating. I really didn’t see myself able to walk away in that second. It was as if my hooves had been welded onto the ground. As much as I wanted to shrug it off and leave, I just … couldn’t.

It was her fault, no doubt. I had stumbled into her hidden chamber by accident, and she had overreacted - plain and simple.

So why did I feel so utterly shitty right now? I had nothing to reproach myself for, did I?

No. No, of course I didn’t. And still, the plain, simple and utterly devastating fact remained that I had made her cry.

And that in itself was a fact that drowned out each and every thought about me not being the one to blame here.

Because all shifting the blame aside, right now Fresh Coat was in there; crying because of what I had done.

And boy, that thought itself threw me right back into that hole I had so laboriously forced myself out of throughout the past week.

I sighed, dropping my head.

But what did it matter now? It was too late - over and done with.

So what should I do?

Really, try as I might, I could not see myself walking away now. I was sick of all this drama, yet at the same time, I couldn’t … just leave her like this. I just couldn’t.

I sighed again, casting a look at the non-visible sky above me. Guess grandpa was right - love really does make you stupid. Or was it blind? I couldn’t remember.

Then again, I’d be lying if I’d say that I didn’t feel both in just that second. Some voice in my head kept telling me that staying here or even coming back to Fresh Coat would cause me nothing but pain and heartache in the future. A second voice kept whining about how exhausting and unnecessary all this feelsy drama was, and that I’d be better off on my own. And a third voice scolded me for being so damn unproductive recently. Really, I was scratching the bottom of the barrel now.

And still, all of those voices seemed to get drowned out by that ever-same realization: Fresh Coat was crying because of me.

And just like that, each and every desire to ditch her for good and move on with my life was blown away, and I was back to just standing there like the stupid, useless little dummy that I was.

So I did the only thing that seemed reasonable to me in this second. I walked over to the next set of stairs, sat down, and waited.

I didn’t know what exactly I was waiting for. Clearer skies, maybe? The end of the world? Was I waiting for Princess Celestia herself to descend from the heavens and tell me that it’d all be good?

Hell, I really didn’t know. I didn’t know why I was waiting, I didn’t know what I was waiting for, and I didn’t know for how long I was sitting on these cold stone stairs. Ten minutes, maybe? An hour? Or two weeks? I really couldn’t tell.

What I did know, however, was that it felt like angels singing from above as I could hear a door getting opened and a thin beam of light shining onto my sorry form sitting on the stairs.

Instinctively, my head shot around, my face lighting up as I saw the truly angelic-looking form standing in the doorframe, illuminated from behind like a celestial being, and looking down at me with an abashed frown on her face.

“I’m … sorry.” she admitted regretfully, “I … shouldn’t have-” she cut herself off mid-sentence, giving a muffled sob, “That was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have kicked you out like this. I … I’m sorry.” she paused, seeming to fight with herself, but then shook her head and hesitantly said, “P-please … come back inside … I mean … i-if you don’t mind. I … I’m sorry.”

“Go. Just go! Walk away! How long till she’ll just kick you out again? Let it go! Save yourself all that drama and just go home!”

I didn’t know where that voice was coming from. Was it the voice of reason? It certainly felt like it. Leaving now seemed like the reasonable choice. I’d go home, get a good load of sleep, and finally start working on that project again!

My life would be back in its daily grind, I wouldn’t have to dread the day my parents write me to ask about my situation, and I could finally lay off the Celestia-forsaken canned food and eat something decent again.

Yes, virtually all of my worries would be solved easily if I would go now. Get Fresh Coat off my mind for good with the knowledge that I’d given her plenty of chances, and that I had -possibly- given her career the boost it needed.

Hell, I had to go. It was the right, reasonable and mature thing to do.

So why had I jumped up and virtually dashed up the stairs like a colt on Hearth’s Warming Eve the second I had noticed the door getting opened?

Well, I gotta agree with Grampa again. Love makes you do all sorts of foolish, blind and stupid things.

But I’d be damned if I wouldn’t do it anyway.

I could feel my face lighten up noticeably as I walked up to her. And I swear, that brief look of relief flashing over Fresh Coat’s face as I came walking towards her was all I needed to clear out any doubts I might have ever had.

However, it was rather short-lived, and quickly gave way to an abashed look of shame, as she lowered her head again, muttering a timid “I’m sorry.” and searching for words.

I opened my mouth to say something; anything to take some of that pressure off her, but just like so often found myself at a loss of words, and thus simply resorted to non-verbal communication. Giving a short nod, and struggling to put a grateful smile onto my face, I stepped past her, back into her brightly lit hallway.

And once again, the brief look of gratefulness that I seemed to understand her without any words flashing over her face managed to brighten up my day ever so slightly.

However, as I stepped into her hallway, I remembered a certain pressure I hadn't quite gotten relived yet. Believe me, I would rather have not had to ask and ruin this blissful moment, but I couldn’t help myself as I said, “Uh, c-could I use the bathroom?”

The beautiful unicorn mare seemed baffled for a few seconds, before her face lit up, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. “Sure.”

As I began making my way, ushered by Fresh Coat who showed me the way, I briefly stopped just before I closed the door to the stall and stood there for a moment in thought. I couldn’t quite explain it, but all this thinking about her and us had prompted a question in my mind. A question I had never really asked myself before, but now that it was on my mind, not asking it seemed almost impossible.

“What is it?” Fresh Coat asked with concern, looking at my somber face.

Looking to the floor my sight traced only up to where her hooves stood on the floor as I asked, “Why … why’d you leave that note in the hospital?”

“W-what?”

“Why … why didn’t you stay?” I thought for a moment to justify myself asking this kind of question, but it was one that pressed me beyond belief.

Again, I didn’t know why I hadn’t asked it before. I had always taken her leaving me to wake up alone as a simple fact, but now that I had questioned it, I felt like I needed an answer!

“What … what do you mean?” she asked again, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“Did you want to… dump me? I mean … from that note it felt like you just wanted to get rid of me. If you really wanted to...” I bit my lip, stumbling over that part, “Be with me after all, why didn’t you just stay and tell me in person?”

I looked her in the eyes when I asked that last bit, but what I saw scared me more than that asshole-buck did when he had pounced on me back in the park.

Her, standing there… unable to answer as she stared into my eyes, something welling up behind, but over what exactly I wasn’t quite sure. The tension in but a few moments built to something that was much more than I could bear. Wanting it to flee away, I nodded my head in acceptance and said, “I’ll…” I stepped into the bathroom. “I’ll be right quick.” And I closed the door, leaving a petty barrier of protection from whatever answer she might have given. It was hard, and if anything, I felt like the villain just doing so, but if I were honest with myself, I was scared.

I couldn’t quite explain why or what I was scared of. All this had happened ten days ago, and Celestia knows a lot had happened since then, but … really, I couldn’t help but to feel like her answer to that question would be leading the way to how she feels about me … about us now.

I wouldn’t be too long though - that much I knew. Sooner or later one has to come out of the bathroom and face the truth. But if anything at least it wasn’t a closet.

Meanwhile, Fresh Coat sat on her couch, mere steps away from her bathroom door. She fiddled with her hooves as she waited uneasily for Blank to come out and face her again. She was distraught about a lot of things right now.

Namely the fact that she had kicked him out a second time. The pony that had done so much for her; had taken a serious beating for her … hell, the one who had submitted her first ever painting to an art gallery because he wanted her to get noticed.

And she had just kicked him out!

She took in a shaky breath, rubbing her hooves against each other.

Words couldn’t express how glad she had been to find him still sitting there almost ten minutes after she had kicked him out. By all means, he had had no obligation to sit there and wait for her stupid ass to calm down again, and yet … he did. And it didn’t even seem like he was mad at her. Not one bit.

But … but why wasn’t he? Hell, after all the crap she had pulled he had every reason to be! Celestia knows she probably wouldn’t have stayed if she were him.

And yet, here he was. Back with her. What she had dreamt of no thirty minutes ago was now a reality.

And still, she couldn’t say that she was happy. She was glad that he was back with her; thankful that he gave her chance after chance, even if she kept screwing it up! But not happy. No, not with that elephant in the room.

As if by command, her guilty look went over to the locked door leading to her bathroom where she knew Blank Slate was right now.

What had that question been all about? It … it was a justified question, and Fresh Coat had known that he’d have to ask it someday, but … but why now of all times?

Her body stiffened in terror as a new ... a truly, truly horrible thought crossed her mind.

Was he … was he about to dump her?

He was about to dump her, wasn’t he? Of course he was! Hell, the writing was on the wall! She had kicked him out one time too many, and he, being the … the incredibly kind and caring soul that he was, didn’t have the heart to leave just like that. So instead he had come back inside, made up some sort of excuse to give himself some space from her nosy questions and come up with what was going to be the most gentle, caring and kind-hearted breakup-phrase she would ever hear.

Hell, she didn’t know if she should smile at the fact that he’d go that extra mile for her while every other buck would have just left without a word, or if she should break out in tears because he was about to go that extra mile to dump her!

Taking in a shaky breath, her body began to tremble, and her look finally broke loose from the bathroom door in an attempt to find something to clear her mind … and came to rest right on the second elephant in the room: the still locked door leading to her gallery.

Fresh Coat felt like she was about to suffer a heart attack.

She didn’t know what had come over her. Something inside her had just … snapped. It wasn’t like she didn’t want him in there. By all means, he was probably the only pony in this world she would voluntarily let in there, but … but him walking in there all by himself had triggered some form of defense mechanism in her. This was her sanctuary, and anyone setting hoof in there without her permission was a trespasser!

And now … now she had probably ruined any chances whatsoever she might have ever had.

Fresh Coat held on to that thought for a few seconds longer, then sighed and shook her head.

Hell, this wasn’t an elephant anymore; there was a whole damn herd of mammoths in the room here!

She closed her eyes, letting out a sound of exasperation.

Why did all this have to be so complicated!?

The pity she had over him during that first night of failed seduction had gone too far. She didn’t need to go on that date, she didn’t have to go on a picnic… Twice! Even if the second time she was going to dump him. Normally she wouldn’t even bother and simply disappear without a trace.

But why was he different from the others? What made her feel the obligation to be pleasant and nice and not sultry and slutty? It was mind-dumming just thinking about it, but as much as she reconsidered, thought, reconsidered, pondered and reconsidered some more, her mind always fell back on one answer.

The one answer that explained all the head- and heartache she had suffered during the past three weeks; the one thing that had made her stay and eat those abominable sandwiches; that had caused her to get scolded by Cinnamon so many times; and the reason why she had been wailing into her pillow like a heartbroken teenager less than an hour ago.

Yes, it was the one fact that had been written on a slip of paper in the back of her mind for almost two weeks now. Sure, she had always suppressed it more or less successfully by simply throwing a literal blanket over it, but … hell, now the note had grown into a damned billboard, leaving her staring at the devastating realization.

And she was all out of blankets.

“No,” she muttered, half ashamed with herself. “It can’t be.” Her words were hardly a whisper.

The conclusion seemed all too clear; it was flashing on her mind like a neon sign. Hell, Cinnamon herself had said it, and it was almost impossible to deny at this point.

But she didn’t want to have it true! She knew all too well what these kinds of feelings would lead to. Hell, she had experienced it - twice!

She shut her eyes, clenching her teeth as she recalled what Cinnamon had said to her earlier, and she could only imagine what the mature mare would say if she could see Fresh Coat now.

“Are you kidding me!?” Fresh Coat could hear Cinnamon’s voice snarl at her in her mind, “Now he’s already done three quarters of all the work for you, and you’re still sitting here feeling sorry for yourself!?”

Sighing, Fresh Coat lowered her head.

“Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me!” imaginary Cinnamon barked again, “Don’t make this harder than it already is! You both love each other, and you’re both sitting here, feeling sorry for yourself! Just go and get him! It’s not that hard!”

Again, Fresh Coat let out a soft sigh, her face screwing up in frustration.

“You’re making it sound so easy, Cinnamon...”

Then, however, her eyes drifted open again.

If … if what she had been thinking earlier was true; if he really was thinking about the best way to dump her right now…

She was grasping for straws, no doubt. Ironically, now it was her searching for ways to make him stay.

She bit her lip, her eyes travelling towards her kitchen for just a second, contemplating to throw together some ‘SanDWiCheS’ to lighten the mood, but quickly discarded that thought. He might just end up thinking she was making fun of him.

Instead, her look went over to the still locked door next to her sofa, and gradually, the frustration on her face vanished, making way for a look of insecurity as a new … a very, very risky idea popped up in her mind.

A few minutes -and some much, much-needed relief- later, I stepped through the bathroom door back into Fresh Coat’s living room, and was surprised to find the beautiful unicorn mare standing right in front of me with a nervous look on her face.

“S-so … everything alright?” she asked timidly, fidgeting with her hooves.

“Uh … yeah, sure.” i replied, a little perplexed by her change of demeanor. Really, who was this timid, shy filly, and what had she done to the laid-back, relaxed Fresh Coat I knew?

“Alright. Good.” Fresh Coat replied briefly, seeming awfully worked up about something.

Oh Celestia … she wasn’t about to throw me out again, was she?

“Uh … I was … I was thinking…” she began awkwardly, and I could feel my ears fold back.

She … she wasn’t going to tell me to leave again, was she? Oh Celestia, why couldn’t I just-

“W-would you like to … go in there again?”

My worried thoughts came to a halt in an instant at the unexpected question, and my eyes widened in surprise as I noticed that the door to her art-room was standing wide-open, virtually inviting me to waltz in there again.

"I-I mean … you … you can go in there again.” she invited me gently, tripping over her own words, “B-but only if you really want to.”

Slowly, still surprised about her sudden invitation, I turned my head towards her, looking her in the eyes.

Now, I’m not an expert when it comes to understanding mares, but even I could see that this wasn’t a peace offer, neither was it an invitation, and certainly not a concession.

No, she had asked me to go in there; her eyes were begging with me.

And really, who was I to say no to that? Her reaction earlier had proven how important her art-room was to her, and the fact that she was now ready to voluntarily share it with me spoke volumes about her feelings for me.

Of course, first things first, I was relieved to hear that she indeed didn’t seem to be at the verge of throwing me out after all.

Second, I was whole-heartedly surprised to see just how nervously the pretty unicorn mare was awaiting my reaction. Really, it felt like I was about to decide about her life or death.

So, without thinking too much, I did the only thing that was right in this moment. I brought an honest, sincere smile to my face, gave a curt nod and said, “Of course I do.”

I don’t think I ever saw Fresh Coat look this relieved in my life. Letting out a sigh that didn’t even begin to describe the weight falling off her back, she finally managed to produce a smile again - a fact that, once again, managed to brighten up this turbulent day for me ever so slightly.

“O-okay.” she replied, slowly walking past me on what looked like really shaky legs, and making her way over to the still ajar door.

I stepped inside behind her, letting my look wander over the colorfully furnished room.

Really, why had she hidden this from everyone?

“... this is amazing.” I subconsciously put my thoughts into words as I looked around, my look finally coming to rest on the eye-catching mural that completely filled out the wall opposite to me.

I turned my head to look at the artist behind it - she pressed her lips together, lowering her head in what looked like shame.

“Am I … the first one you’ve shown this to?” I asked what seemed obvious, gaining a slow, hesitant nod from her in return.

“But why?” I asked disbelievingly, “Why didn’t you share it?” Pointing a hoof at the painted wall, I added, “This isn’t something to be ashamed of!”

Still keeping her look directed at the ground, Fresh Coat hesitantly nodded. “If you say so…” she whispered, and I could swear I saw her crack the thinnest of smiles at that. “I just …” slowly, she raised her head, looking at me, but still avoiding eye contact, “I never had anyone to share it with. I mean…” she bristled, “After that thing with my ex, that is.”

“Hmm?” I asked carefully, tilting my head to the side. Of course, having talked with Cinnamon, I knew exactly what had happened with her fiancé all those months ago, but in the heat of the moment decided against revealing just that. By all means, she had not yet told me what had happened herself, and letting her know that I knew just about anything just seemed a little tactless.

Fresh Coat looked at me for a long moment, seeming to fight with herself, but then shook her head and looked away. “I’d … rather not talk about it.”

“Alright.” I replied softly, “Guess it’s still a little too fresh, huh? No problem.”

She slowly nodded her head, giving me a grateful look as she softly said, “Thanks. I’m glad you understand.”

I smiled back, giving myself a mental pat on the back for that.

Bullet dodged.

Fresh Coat kept her eyes locked with me for another moment, and I could see something in them. I couldn’t put my hoof on it, but the way she looked at me; that … genuinely happy, friendly … loving look in her eyes almost made it look like…

But before I could end that thought she broke the eye contact, looked away, stomped her hoof in anger and hissed, “Fuck!”

Ignoring my puzzled expression, she took a step back, all the while continuing her tirade, “Shit shit shit! No! No, this can’t fucking be! I can’t like you this way!” she looked at me, and I was sure I could see tears in her eyes, “I can’t … love you!”

“What?” I couldn’t help but ask, noticeably surprised.

“Don’t play dumb!” Fresh Coat hissed at me, now seeming angry at me for some reason, “Do you think I didn’t notice the way you’re looking at me!? I know you got the hots for me! Hell, only a moron wouldn’t know that after all that happened! And…” she bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, “Shit, I know I feel the same way about you!”

“W-what?” I managed to sputter out, no doubt happy about her sudden confession, but at the same time confused why she seemed to be angry about it. Really, in essence, that was all I’d been wanting to hear ever since I first lay eyes on her.

“For real? But … but that’s great, isn’t it?” I asked as finally a smile found its way onto my face. “I mean, if that’s how you feel about me, and how I feel about you, then-”

“No it’s not!” Fresh Coat shouted at me, and I was sure I saw tears forming in her eyes, “Nothing is great! I never wanted any of this! I never wanted to stay with you for longer than a night, I never wanted to drag you to the hospital after you got beaten up for me, and Celestia knows I never wanted to fall in love with you!”

I swallowed at that last part, feeling my ears turn red. Hearing her say that caused an all new wave of emotions breaking over my mind, and a feeling of weightlessness spreading through my heart.

She had said it! She had admitted it! I could die as a happy pony now!

But … but...

“But why?” I asked the inevitable question. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because falling in love is bad!” she shouted back at me, tears flooding her eyes, “Feelings are bad! Depending on someone is bad! All this crap…” she shook her head, wiping tears from her face with a hoof and letting out a sob, “It’ll only get you hurt, alright? It may feel great at first, but once you realize that we’re all just savages looking for our own best, you’ll be left behind…” her body seemed to deflate as her tirade came to an end and she lowered her head, “All by yourself, lonely … and broken.”

I looked at her in silence for a long moment, letting her words sink in as small droplets of tears ran down her face and fell to the floor. Then, finally having my words out ready, I took a step towards her and asked, “What happened?”

That was a stupid question to ask. I knew exactly what had happened, and after what Cinnamon had told me, I doubted I could learn anything more from her side of the story.

And still, in this second it seemed all too obvious that she wanted; that she needed to talk about this; explain it to someone who she knew cared, and blow off some steam, if nothing else.

The beautiful unicorn mare remained silent for a moment, then sighed and looked back up at me. “You really wanna know?” She asked drably, her eyes still wet and reddened.

I gave a curt nod. “Yes. Yes, of course I do.”

A few more tears and she came to her decision. She nodded and gently waved with her head. “Come on,” she instructed me weakly, leading me out of her art-room and back into her living room where we sat back down on her sofa.

I could tell that this thing was going to be hard for her to talk about. Hell, I knew what she was about to tell me, and in a way it felt wrong ‘tricking’ her like this, but Celestia knows telling her now that essentially Cinnamon had already told me everything would probably do nothing but ruin the moment.

“Fresh, you don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to.” I said softly, putting a reassuring hoof on her shoulder.

“Stop it,” she sobbed. “I’m telling you, after all it's my fault you got this far.”

I hesitated at that. Was it something I was supposed to be proud of or ashamed of? I couldn’t tell.

With a few more uneasy breaths she raised her chin and began to speak. “I-I met this guy…” Just from the way she began, I knew that this was going to be heavy for her. “He seemed nice… ya know? I-I’d just gotten out of art school ... ya know, super ambitious and full of optimism and here he comes. We’re happy, he’s friendly, I’m painting, a few months go by and…” She gave a short, dry chuckle, “Hey, next thing ya know we’re getting married.”

I nodded my head understandingly - no big news for me, really. However, it took me a second to remember that, once again, Fresh Coat didn’t know what I knew, so I quickly widened my eyes in what I hoped looked like genuine surprise, trying to imitate the look I had on my face when Cinnamon had first told me about Fresh Coat being engaged.

And really, it seemed to work.

Keeping her eyes on me as she wiped a streak of her mane out of her face, the mare sitting opposite to me continued slowly. “But this particular buck…” she hesitated, drawing a shaky breath. “He was ... indecisive. Up to the point when…” her voice broke, and she had to swallow, but started over shortly after. “While I stood there, dress and all, organ playing, vows being read off, cheeks read and all blushy blushy he’s asked… a-asked if… I’ll.” She began to choke up on her own word, but nothing really needed to be said, because if anything I already could tell, but I didn’t interject. If anything I could tell that talking about it was the best thing I could do for her. She found her voice as shaky and sad as it was and sputtered, “He left me standing there!”

That last part caused the dam to break at last. Tearing up in a way that made me want to cry right with her, she then began to let loose, shamelessly crying and sobbing like a foal in front of me as she repeatedly whispered how he left her standing there.

I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t a caregiver; I hardly even knew mares. What was I supposed to say? “It's okay, just move on, he was probably thirty percent bitch and seventy percent chump anyways?” Or something along these lines? Or should I just…

My thoughts came to a halt as my body, more out of instinct than anything else, acted, and I found myself leaning over to her and putting a hoof on her back.

She reacted immediately, turning towards me, leaning against my shoulder, and letting it all out.

For a good five minutes we just sat there, with me holding her, gently running my hoof over her back, and her just sobbing into my shoulder, seeming too absorbed in her memories to say anything.

It felt … really, really good. And I know how horrible that sounds, saying that you're feeling good while the pony you love is crying her eyes out right next to you, but ... I couldn't explain it. Having her close to me, watching her finally make amends with something that had so deeply hurt her, and knowing; feeling that I was the one she was leaning on; that it was me who provided her with the shoulder she so desperately needed … it was something I had never felt before. It felt better than having her tease me with her butt, better than watching her walk into the diner for our date … hell, it even felt better than having her kiss me back at the bar.

Because contrary to that kiss, what was happening now wasn’t induced by alcohol, frustration or despair. No, what was happening now was … genuine; real … and so much more intense than that not-so-short peck on the lips she had given me on that fateful night.

She was getting over that crippling sadness, and I was helping her … curing her.

And it felt better than anything I had ever experienced.

However, eventually Fresh Coat managed to calm herself, and sat up, leaving a pleasant warmth on my shoulder where her head had been. Subconsciously or not, I kept my hoof resting on her back as she sat up, took in a long breath, then let it out again.

Turning her head towards, me, indicating that she wasn’t done just yet, she then continued. “And then my art crisis happened.” she explained, and I watched a shiver run through her body as her temper began to rise, “Ponies all said it was bad; that my art was shit and stupid fucking stuff. I failed at auctions and best I could do was sell for a bit or two. ... Shit, I wanted to paint murals, Blank Slate!” she cried. “But look at me! I’m running from apartment to apartment painting walls for bucks and sluts who are too lazy to do it themselves. I fuck without giving a fuck and it was my mistake to let you stick around me, Blank! I don’t want to fall in love! Not after what he did!” she fell silent for a second, just breathing softly, then so quiet it was barely audible, added, ”I … I don’t want to be hurt again, Blank. Not again.”

I ... I couldn’t help it. The thought of being compared to such an indecisive lowlife of a stallion ... triggered something with in me.

As a result, I inadvertently, bluntly, and somewhat scoldingly interjected with, “But I’m not him, Fresh Coat! I never left you, I never wanted to hurt you! I fought for your venture and I treated you with high regards!”

I bit my lip, shaking my head as my sudden outburst faded.

“I’d never do that, Fresh.” I spoke much softer, her gaze avoiding mine as she snivelled and sobbed. “You … you mean more to me than anything else in this world. Yes, I fucked up w-with Cinnamon, but … but haven’t the days and the moments I’ve been with you proven that I want nothing but the best for you, and that I...” I stuttered, tripping over that part for just a second, “... I love you?”

Fresh Coat quietly shook her head, still refusing to meet my gaze. “I-I don’t know Blank. I ... I just don't know.”

“You’re scared!”

I didn’t know what came over me. Really, it just burst out of me. Yes, it might seem insensitive, but it was true. And even before I could even think about stopping myself, my mouth swiftly continued, “You're scared of rejection, you're scared of failure, you’re scared of disapproval but most of all … you’re scared just to fall in love.”

“I-I… I, no B-Blank.” she quietly muttered, slurring her words as her head sank. “I-it’s not tr-true, Blank.”

“Yes it is.” I replied bluntly, surprised at my own decisiveness. Again, I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Maybe I really was fed up with all this unnecessary drama, especially now that the obvious had been stated more than once. “I know it, and you know it too. So who are you trying to convince here?”

At that she sighed deeply, breaking the eye contact with me and turning her head away.

“So?” she brought out after a moment of silence, her voice weak and barely audible, “So what if I’m scared?" Her voice gradually increased in volume as she turned her head back towards me, her tearstained eyes meeting mine, "So what if I have some form of commitment phobia? I have all the right to, don’t I?” she sighed, shaking her head. “Yes, you’re right, I am scared!” she admitted, shrugging, but keeping her eyes on me. “So what now, huh? What should I do, Blank? What do you wanna hear from me?”

“I … I” I stuttered, tripping over my own words, “I mean … it’s just…” I cut myself off, shaking my head to clear my thoughts, and instead focused on what I really wanted to tell her. Lifting my head and looking her in the eyes, I slowly, carefully said, “You don’t need to be afraid, Fresh Coat. I'm here with you."

I paused for a second, letting my words sink in, then softly added, "And I promise, I won't let you get hurt. Not now, and never again.”

At my words Fresh Coat suddenly became silent as she sat there, tearing and quietly crying. I needed to say something more, and I was going to, but before I knew it, Fresh Coat had leaned in and fallen into me. I hugged her as she laid against my chest and I rested my head atop hers as I rubbed her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

At that moment I felt that something genuine had been formed; something that could quite be put into words, but didn’t need to be spoken.

It was a natural phenomenon, but a rare one at that too, and as she laid in my arms, letting me comfort her, I knew that this was it.

This was what I had been searching for all this time.

This … was real love.

She was mine and I was hers.

And nothing would ever change that.

Author's Notes:

Oh boy, where do I start?
Similar to what Blank Slate and Fresh Coat have been through, writing this story was one hell of a ride for me, beginning with the fact that it was the first ever collab I've written.
Truth be told, I would've never thought that there's more to Blank and Fresh than what has been written in The Painter, but really, leave it to MadDonut to come up with some kick-ass storyline and character-backstories.
With that said ... dude, if you're reading this, thank you for making this a reality, and coming up with so many great ways to turn this simple piece of story into what I consider to be one of the best things I've ever worked on. Really, you're the reason this entire story exists in the first place.
And of course, THANK YOU to everyone who has enjoyed the story and taken the time to leave a like or even a comment. It's people like you that keep me writing every day, and I'm sure I can speak for both, MadDonut and myself when I say that we appreciate each and every single comment you guys have left!
And in case anyone is wondering, the NSFW-chapter (originally Chapter 6) will be re-published shortly as a separate story with some minor tweaks and complements, including a short (SFW) epilogue that'll shed some light on the future of our dear artist-couple.
So yeah, stay tuned if you're in for the sweet stuff.

Thank you once again for taking the time to read through all this. I hope you have a wonderful day! ^_^

The Artist

by P-Berry

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8