Chapter 1 - Prologue
Chapter 1
Bitter Lemon – Prologue
Lemon Flint was just like anyone else from Manehattan, full of himself and absolutely snobbish… But he didn’t want to be any of those things, he didn’t want to be consumed by that stigma. But alas, his personality begged to differ. He was inside his house, unpacking his belongings when he heard a knock on the door. He groaned loudly and stopped what he was doing quickly –
"Come on in!!" He hollered, shutting his bow-tie drawer. A creak came from the door, and a little purple dragon with green spikes came in. He left the door ajar as he examined the space around him before his eyes fixated onto Lemon Flint.
“So, you’re one of the new ponies here?” Spike questioned, crossing his stubby arms. Lemon Flint narrowed his eyes and grunted.
“Duh, haven’t you seen me anywhere else here?” He moved one of his hooves around as he spoke, portraying his sass. Spike just looked down in response and it was silent for a solid 2 minutes.
“...No, I suppose I haven’t,” Spike looked up again as he spoke, “What even brings you here anyway? I mean, a snazzy pony like you… In a place like this?”
“Just wanted a change, okay?” Lemon Flint grumbled in response, chewing on his bottom lip as he spoke. “And ‘sides, heard a few good words about this place.” He added.
Spike only looked at him, then away. “Yeah… This place is nice, cozy, and safe!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. Lemon Flint rolled his eyes dramatically and groaned in distaste.
"Better be different from my last home. Too many assholes there for my taste." Lemon explained, his voice low and raspy. "Dunno why else I would come here."
Spike wanted to speak, but his mouth stood agape. He looked away again then back at Lemon Flint, crossing his arms again. His face was stern, like a mother looking at her child.
"We hope you get settled quickly, but please, please hold off on the profanity. I get you're not from here, but that doesn't mean you can go around cussin' up a storm!"
"Yeah yeah, whatever." Lemon said curtly, turning back around and going into one of the boxes.
Spike sighed and walked toward the door before turning back around to look at Lemon Flint. His eyes were wandering a little bit as he looked for something to at least say.
"...Name's Spike, by the way."
"Mmh. Namesh Lemon Flint." Lemon speech was muffled as there was a suit in his mouth. Spike smiled softly and decided that it was time for him to leave. He turned back around toward the door and sighed, exiting and closing the door.
SLAM!!!!
Thank Celestia that little.. Thing is gone. Lemon thought to himself, finishing up his unpacking. Was really getting in the way of my stuff.
When he was finished packing, he trotted over to his desk and sat down, staring at his typewriter. He pondered for a moment on what he wanted to write about, until an idea struck him. He tapped his hooves on the table (simulating knuckles cracking) and started click clacking away.
❝ BLAZE-RUNNING FROM THE MOB
by : Lemon Flint.
Chapter 1.
Harsh Reality
The day started off just like any other. . .
A pony by the name of... ❞
Yeah, this was going to be way, way harder than he had anticipated. Coming up with a name was always a grueling task for the semi-young author. Then it hit him like an apple falling onto someone.
❝ ... Book Blaze, a popular author that has created the popular book series 'Blazerunner', a mystery drama collection with violence sprinkled in. He moved to Mexicolt in hopes of finding a new life for himself . . . Which was the worst idea that he could ever come up with. All the ponies kept bothering him, pestering him, taking photos of him without permission. He wanted a new life, but he was always hounded by his fans no matter what. ❞
Perfect. Lemon Flint liked the start of his story, but now he had to think of something else to add. He thought back to his last interaction... Spike. He chuckled softly and started click clacking again.
❝ The constant intrusion, the relentless pursuit, was slowly eroding Book Blaze's sanity. His peaceful solitude, once the foundation of his creativity, had been shattered, replaced by a cacophony of noise and intrusion. One particularly harrowing evening, as Book Blaze sat alone in his dimly lit study, the silence was shattered by a sudden flash of light. A barrage of camera clicks erupted, followed by a chorus of excited squeals. Book Blaze, startled and disoriented, instinctively recoiled, his heart pounding like a drum. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of the intrusion, but only found the familiar shadows of his study. In the aftermath of the invasion, Book Blaze was left trembling, his nerves frayed. The once comforting sanctuary of his home was now a site of fear and vulnerability. The constant threat of exposure, the relentless pursuit of his privacy, was slowly suffocating him. His writing, once a source of joy and fulfillment, now felt like a burden, a constant reminder of the fame he so desperately craved yet now dreaded. The pressure to produce, to constantly deliver something new and exciting, gnawed at him, fueling his anxiety and crippling his creativity. ❞
Lemon Flint sighed and wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead with his hoof. He was proud of his work so far. His magnum opus.
His story was a venting outlet, that had helped him out with getting his feelings out on paper. It worked perfectly for him, but he was still a cynical piece of shit. One that wanted a true escape from the world around him. One that hated ponies, hated it when that talked to him... Interacted with him, he was not a pony person at all, and this reflected in his work. His bitter hatred with ponies around him.. Awful. Simply awful.