A young Manehatten baker stallion falls in love, but his mean boss and his lover's recent ex seek nothing more than to keep the two stallions apart. [M/M]
Butter Cream is a short earth pony who would like nothing more than to bake all day. His snobby boss, Golden Hope, runs Manehatten's finest restaurant and bakery, and enjoys teasing and harassing him in the kitchen.
Just as Golden Hope's harassment begins to come to a head, he meets a tall, handsome stallion in the restaurant and falls in love. When the object of his affection, Mocha Caramel, breaks up with his now-ex-boyfriend, he begins to return Butter Cream's affection, and simultaneously causes his ex to direct his ire toward the small pony.
Butter Cream, suddenly finding himself pressured on two fronts, works to keep his new relationship together while keeping his job. But will the Manehatten snob and the angry ex succeed in breaking Butter Cream's resolve, and will he and Mocha Caramel enjoy a happy ending?
The busy sounds of whisking a thick batter echoed throughout a large kitchen one dim Saturday morning as they had many Saturday mornings before. This kitchen was part of Golden Hope’s’ luxurious restaurant experience, boasting freshly-baked goods each and every day to reel in as many hungry customers as possible. As such, it was the bakers’ job to be up bright and early to bake the goods of such high esteem. Several ponies, some cheerful, some fairly exhausted, currently ran the morning shift. Each was dressed in a soft, white apron and hat as they worked carefully upon the floury countertops of the large kitchen.
Warmth hung about the entire kitchen despite the crisp coolness of Manehatten’s wintry morning as ovens were lit and set to bake the breads, pies, cakes, and pastries to perfection. Baking peels, chipped and charred to black, were placed readily next to the glowing brick ovens for safe insertion and removal of Golden Hope’s’ “Delicious Eats” and were about as worn out as the ovens they were used in. The shiny doors on the ovens reflected images of the busy ponies that used them, scurrying about the kitchen to ensure that the morning rush would have their baked goods warm and on time.
“How’re those pastries coming, ladies?”
Into the kitchen stepped a lavishly-dressed mare, her orange mane braided and pulled into a bun at the back of her head where a sparkling red ribbon held it in place. The mare’s face was coated thickly in make-up, from eye-liner to blush, and her lips were bright red with improper application of lipstick. Her hooves clopped loudly upon the white and black tile floor as they did most every morning. Golden Hope’s goldenrod coat was covered in an earthy green dress with crimson trimmings, and anypony who looked up from their work would be accustomed to the side-stepping and backpedaling to ensure her dress would not become coated in flour. Golden Hope’s emerald eyes looked upon her employees with the familiar arrogant, thickly-lined gaze common with Manehatten’s upper crust as she expertly maneuvered between the chefs of her restaurant to observe their tired work, distracting their noses with the overwhelming odor of too much perfume.
“Mom! Butter Cream is working this morning too, you know!” Golden Heart called from across the kitchen.
“As I said: ladies!” Golden Hope said with a smirk, continuing through the kitchen without stopping.
Golden Heart, her golden-brown mane braided neatly at the back of her head, looked over at the pony working next to her with an apologetic smile. The light vanilla-colored pony hung his head for but a moment before looking up at the smile of the yellow pony and returning a meek smile of his own. Shifting his rear hooves upon the rickety wooden stool beneath them, the small pony returned to mixing batter for the day’s first batch of scones with his whisk pressed firmly between his hooves and a brief sigh. Butter Cream was a dedicated baker if there ever was one, not letting his stature keep him away from what he loved most: baking. It was his passion for baking that helped the stallion, with his long and brown mane and tail and light chocolate eyes, from getting too discouraged while working for Golden Hope.
Not getting discouraged while being a short, young stallion and also working for Golden Hope, one of the most stuck-up ponies in Manehatten, was a fairly difficult task. As she passed him, Miss Hope (she had divorced her husband two years ago) teasingly flicked her long tail across Butter Cream’s cutie mark of a lovely little baking peel, causing him to hop up with a startled squeak. The little pony quickly recovered to keep control of the batter before it ruined Golden Hope’s dress as her daughter gasped, embarrassed at her mother’s harassment.
“Any employee of mine with the rear of a filly and the squeal of a filly will always be, to me, a filly!” Golden Hope laughed haughtily, passing on by the working ponies. She did not look back to see the unhappy frown now set upon Butter Cream’s face.
With a sigh, Golden Heart set aside the muffin batter she had been preparing to hug Butter Cream. While she could certainly see that he did have a bit of a girlish physique, Heart could also see that her mother’s actions were steadily going from encouraging humor to harassment over the course of Butter Cream’s employment.
“I’m sure she’s just joking… but I’ll talk to her, okay?” Golden Heart whispered sweetly into Butter Cream’s ear.
The little pony, still mixing the batter, as hoof-mixed batter tends to take time, sighed again and replied, in a soft and relatively high-pitched voice for a stallion, “It’d be nice of you… thanks.”
Golden Heart sensed the dejected tone in his voice and ended her consoling embrace with a little squeeze before getting back to her work.
Being a stallion short in stature and in love with baking had tended to cause Butter Cream to be treated a little harshly throughout his life. But, as with every other instance, he took a deep breath to clear his mind and went back to work, diligently as before. It was just another day, after all.
“Remember that we’ll be serving Mister Fancy Pants from Canterlot later today, so don’t burn yourselves out before he arrives! I want him to have a most splendid meal while he is in my—I mean, our—excellent hooves!” Golden Hope announced loudly before turning carefully and exiting the kitchen with bombastic steps.
The Golden Hope’s kitchen, previously quiet while the manager was about, carefully masked the busy sounds of baking work with steadily-growing chatter among the mostly female employees within. The sun was steadily rising above the tall brick landscape of Manehatten now, its glowing rays easing into the kitchen through the windows, their sills still caked with early snow. The ponies carefully and skillfully poured batches of muffins and breakfast cakes into molds and tins for baking as it grew closer and closer to the restaurant’s opening time.
Sounds of movement began to build up from the restaurant outside of the kitchen where the rest of the staff was beginning to enter for a new day of work in their slick black suits and dresses. Occasionally one of the waiters would lean into the kitchen and flirt with the busy chefs, who would usually dismiss him with a shake of their heads while continuing to work hard while the rest of the staff stood about idly.
Steadily and adhering strictly to the oven’s timers, batches of goods were whisked from the hot brick confines of the ovens so they could be relit and prepared for the following batches. As opening time came nearer, the waiters finally began a quick clean-up of all of the tables so that the first guests would be greeted by freshly-sparkling tables and food peeking out from behind the front counter’s display.
Golden Hope’s was more than just a bakery. The full-fledged restaurant had a second kitchen dedicated largely to other food items that weren’t handled in the bakery, where the other cooking crew was now positioned, ready to take on the day’s orders. Butter Cream, as he did most days, opened the slider between both kitchens so that orders that included specialty baked goods could be filled.
At this point in the morning, everypony was simply waiting for Golden Hope’s’ signature bell to ring, signaling the start of the morning shift and that the restaurant was open for business. The large bell had been a defining part of the building ever since it opened seven years ago, ringing in time with the main clock tower of Manehatten’s upper district as its first means of attracting customers. Indeed, it was this very bell that adorned the sign over the front entrance and all of its logos: a bronze bell with a heart upon it that acted as both the owner’s and her restaurant’s mark. This mark was on the windows, the napkins, the sitting cushions, the tables, and on the aprons, and it was to be displayed proudly.
Butter Cream most certainly tried his best to display the logo proudly as he carried a fresh tray of scones and muffins out to the display inside the restaurant. Being between the average size of a young pony and an adult pony, the top of his head just barely came above the counter, where it seemed that a puffy white hat was simply floating along behind the pristine surface. This was up until he reached the display, however, where Butter Cream was easily visible behind the glass where the goods were placed for the early customers to see.
“Here you go, Cinder!” Butter Cream cheerfully chirped, having stood on his rear legs to place the tray atop the counter for his ashy gray coworker. The unicorn brushed aside some dark red hair from her eyes as she lit her horn and sorted the goods into their proper spots behind the display, the glass lightly fogged up from the fresh items’ steamy goodness.
“Thanks, Butter Cream!” replied the mare before Butter Cream turned about and headed back into the kitchen.
As he trotted in through the double doors, Butter Cream received a few soft shoulder pats from the other baker ponies as consolation for Golden Hope’s earlier jabs, their hooves leaving small circles of flour in their wake. The short stallion was a major part of the bakers’ moods, radiating cheerfulness almost all the time, so it hurt everypony even just a little bit to hear their boss making fun of Butter Cream. He’d recovered relatively quickly, however, and smiled brightly at Harvest Apple, Ginger Snap, and Rosemary before hopping back upon his stool and returning to his craft.
The morning crowd often never rushed the bakers much, their orders typically already sitting warmly in the display case, so Butter Cream and the rest of the bakers knew they could take it easy. They kneaded dough less vigorously, mixed batter less hastily, and took their time when swapping batches in the ovens. Saturday was one of the best days to be in the morning shifts, the busy, working-class ponies getting to spend some time off instead of rushing through the city to get to work.
Peering through the foggy windows, there were significantly fewer ponies on the streets. Those who were, however, were wrapped in fine scarves or heavy coats to keep the nipping air away as they trotted over the thin layer of fluffy white snow with protective winter boots.
Every so often, a carriage would pass by, pulled by thickly-built stallions that attracted the attention of the bakers, who swooned at the hard-working ponies. Even Butter Cream sighed delightedly and drifted off into brief fantasies at the sight of the carriage ponies, leaning onto the countertop and smiling absent-mindedly until he snapped out of his reverie and found his chin coated with flour.
Butter Cream was, in fact, interested in stallions. That was the truth. He always had and figured that he always would, even if he couldn’t explain it. Most ponies figured out that much about him rather quickly, even if jumping to conclusions based on his mare-ish physique and his soft attitude. Luckily for him, much of the bakery’s staff was supportive of Butter Cream’s attraction to stallions. If they weren’t, he’d probably be out in the snow, looking for another baking job. Of course, there were downsides to ponies knowing; somehow, the information must have reached Golden Hope.
Golden Hope, like most of the upper crust of Manehatten, was less tolerant than other normal pony folk.
“Delivery’s here!” announced one of the chefs in the second kitchen. As if on cue, Golden Hope stepped in through the large swinging doors for everypony to see, even those looking through the divider between kitchens. As part of her management job, Golden Hope saw to it that each and every delivery was perfect for her restaurant.
She quickly passed by the divider and to the open door on the other side of the kitchen, which hung open while a large, blue stallion, scarf wrapped around his neck, stood. The young-looking pony seemed to be relieved to be somewhere warm, oblivious to the cool breeze he was letting in. Butter Cream, trying to watch the exchange, shivered as the breeze passed over him.
“The cold appears to be here, too! What, were you raised in a barn?” Golden Hope said, raising an eyebrow and looking down at the stallion despite being a head shorter. Her lips opened into a mischievous grin before she let out a measured laugh and added, “Oh, silly me! Of course you were!”
The warm smile faded from the stallion’s face quickly. Butter Cream felt sorry for him, the new food delivery pony. Soon enough, an ashamed look passed over the stallion’s face and he hung his head, stepping through the doors and closing them. This only proved to worsen things, as Golden Hope, with her practically constant downward looks, spotted the snow he had just tracked in which began to melt into small puddles. She scolded him immediately, causing him to scramble back through the doors.
Butter Cream looked away as Golden Hope began to chuckle. He set himself to work kneading dough while the sounds of the boss’s transaction with the stallion carried in from the other room. Several hefty thuds echoed in through the divider as the stallion set down his crates of apples mistakenly in the middle of the kitchen. The baker winced with the rest of his coworkers as their boss barked at the stallion to take the crates and relocate them to storage, because he clearly couldn’t see that the fine fillies in her kitchens were incapable of moving such heavy loads.
Golden Heart testily tapped a hoof against the tile, intently listening to the exchange, her head hung with disappointed frustration. She muttered angrily, “Mother…”
* * *
Butter Cream’s break had just begun. He happily hung his apron and stored his hat beside his cubbyhole before trotting out into the anteroom of the restaurant. There he stood and took in a deep breath through his nose, catching the deliciously fresh scents of all of the goods that his friends had prepared.
“Ah…”
He closed his eyes and let the smells take him to a bright and happy place where he could bake and bake and bake to his heart’s content. Butter Cream envisioned himself dancing between cakes, decorating them perfectly with carefully-practiced motions, the sweet aroma filling the air around him. In this particular fantasy, he found himself carrying a particularly elaborate cake to a table, balancing the pastry expertly upon one hoof, as if it carried no weight at all. The recipient of the cake had ordered it to come with a frosting heart directly on top, and that stallion was—
“Fancy Pants!”
Butter Cream hadn’t even opened his eyes when Golden Hope bumped into him at high speed, knocking him across the floor without even a brief apology or glance as she hurried on to the door. Dazed and most likely bruised, Butter Cream feebly looked up and around to see that nopony’s eyes were on him, but rather on the front door. Meekly, the little stallion propped himself up and turned around to find a large crowd gathered at the door. Golden Hope’s dress stuck out between the bodies of waiters, restaurant customers, and finely-dressed Canterlot ponies, the group chattering loudly but incoherently. He rolled his eyes upon hearing that haughty laugh coming from not only his boss, but most of the other ponies that were now slowly shuffling backward to allow room to the celebrity guest of Golden Hope’s.
“Mister Pants! What brings you to this fine establishment?”
“I do say, you appear to have wonderful taste in dining!”
The chattering became more coherent as they flowed into the restaurant. Butter Cream, fearing that he would get trampled by all of the ponies who were walking backwards into the restaurant, began to back up. Mid-step, however, one of his shoulders let off a dull pain, clearly still hurting from the fall, and Butter Cream froze up, stumbling slightly.
“Uh… Excuse me?” He called out timidly, though the ponies before him were certainly too caught up in the arrival of Fancy Pants to hear him. With their longer legs, they grew closer to Butter Cream faster than he could get away from them, and when it seemed like they were finally about to squish him, he felt the strange tingle from being grabbed by magic and soon found himself being dragged to the safety of the wall on the side of the room.
“Careful. These ponies are never going to pay attention to where they’re going and still admit it’s their fault.” Cinder said from behind the counter, the glow dying away from her horn. “Are you okay?”
Butter Cream sighed in relief. “Yes, I’m fine.” He made the mistake, however, of trying to walk closer to make himself easier to be heard past the crowd, immediately stumbling due to his recent injury.
“Oh, Butter Cream…” Cinder frowned. “That doesn’t look fine to me.” Her horn lit and once again Butter Cream was lifted through the air until he was positioned directly on the other side of the counter from Cinder. “Good thing you’re so light… How bad is it?”
Butter Cream looked shyly at the ground and replied, “It’s probably just a bruise, that’s all.”
Cinder nickered unhappily. “Miss Hope needs to be more considerate, I swear…” Her expression turned more concerned. “Are you going to be okay on your break?”
Butter Cream sighed, a furtive frown on his face as he looked briefly at the crowd that still engulfed the doorway before looking back up at the mare, who had now taken to leaning on the counter. “Well, it doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere any time soon. I guess I’ll be fine if I don’t need to move.”
“Now, now! You are entitled to your break and, personally, I think you deserve it.” Cinder shook her head.
“N-no, no, it’s fine. I need my shoulder to rest, anyway…” Butter Cream protested. Almost as if to make his point, he sat down and leaned against the pastry display to take the weight off of that leg.
Cinder took a worried glance into the crowd. With her height advantage over Butter Cream, she could see Golden Hope interacting with somepony at the center of the commotion. Not sensing that they would let Butter Cream pass for a while, Cinder groaned and slumped against the countertop. She peered over the edge at Butter Cream.
“So you’re really going to spend your break in here? Might as well have not taken a break, especially if you can’t get away from her…”
Butter Cream had opened his mouth to respond when a stallion called out, “You there! Are you quite alright?”
The small pony and his coworker on the counter looked over at the crowd, which had now hushed to a low chattering, to see a few of the ponies parting and giving way for a large, well-dressed, white unicorn stallion, with a wavy blue mane and moustache. Butter Cream locked eyes with him from the ground and took a few moments to realize that he had been lost in the stallion’s charming gaze and that the pony had been talking to him.
“Wh-who? Me?” Butter Cream asked, bewilderedly.
“But of course! Do you need any assistance?” The pony’s distinctly “cultured” accent reminded Butter Cream of Golden Hope, but there was significantly less of a belittling air to it.
The stallion had begun stepping forward, the cord from his monocle swaying gently from side to side in front of his neatly-tied bowtie. Some of the ponies behind and next to him gave off looks of confusion or intrigue at this latest development, and even Golden Hope, next to him, appeared slightly taken aback in his sudden interest in Butter Cream.
“Psst! That’s Fancy Pants!” a wide-eyed Cinder quietly hissed down at Butter Cream.
This immediately set Butter Cream’s heart pounding, and he stammered, “Um… n-no, I’m f-fine…”
“I say…” muttered one of the lookers-on. Even still, Fancy Pants walked forward until he was right in front of little Butter Cream, now free of the crowd.
“You’re absolutely sure? You don’t look quite right. There’s nothing I can do for you?” Fancy Pants asked, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow inquisitively. Butter Cream could feel himself blushing from his seat on the floor.
“W-well, my shoulder hurts a bit, but I’ll be--” Butter Cream, still staring wide-eyed into Fancy Pants’ gorgeous, blue eyes, didn’t notice that Golden Hope had just hurried past the white stallion to suddenly take an interest in Butter Cream’s condition.
“Butter Cream, darling! Are you okay?” The sudden, loud outburst of vocal concern for Butter Cream’s well-being caught him off-guard, and he jumped to his hooves with a yelp, breaking his gaze at Fancy Pants for him to cringe at his sore shoulder.
“Oh, you know this young colt?” Fancy Pants asked, turning to the restaurant’s owner. Butter Cream felt his heart sink.
“Of course! This, er, stallion is part of my baking staff!” Golden Hope replied, causing a stir in the crowd behind her.
Fancy Pants blinked. “He is, is he? Hadn’t you better ensure that he is alright?”
Golden Hope at once appeared to be in an embarrassed fluster and smiled widely and falsely down at Butter Cream. “Oh, of course!” she replied through her teeth. “Butter Cream, darling, what happened?”
“Oh, uh… Nothing. I just… fell.” Butter Cream replied, looking shamefully at the floor. He knew he couldn’t tell the truth; if he did, Golden Hope would appear to be crueler than usual and that would probably give the restaurant a hit in its sales. He decided to stick with his lie and hope that it would be enough.
“There, Mister Fancy Pants, he’ll be fine. Now, if you’ll come with me, I’ll see to it that your dining experience is flawless!” Golden Hope said, urging Fancy Pants in the direction of the dining room. He seemed slightly confused, but shrugged and went to follow her lead, the crowd quickly closing in behind them.
“Do take care, then, young chap!” Fancy Pants called to Butter Cream before the crowd swallowed him.
“Bye!” the little pony meekly called back as the chattering disappeared into the other room.
After the anteroom had quieted down, Cinder leaned back over the counter with a rather disappointed look. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how can somepony without a long ways to fall mess himself up that much by falling?”
“What do you mean?”
Cinder rolled her eyes. “What I mean is how could you let her get away with knocking you over like that? If you’re hurt, you at least deserve a day or two off.”
Butter Cream shook his head. “I didn’t want her to look bad in front of important ponies… It would be bad for the restaurant!” He looked up at Cinder with worried eyes.
The mare’s expression softened and she smiled at him. Taking a quick glance left, and then another glance right, Cinder found that the room was clear and so she hopped over the counter instead of simply walking around to stand next to Butter Cream. A light sigh left her lips and she kneeled down next to the short stallion.
“You need to be a little more selfish, Butter Cream. This is Manehatten—if all of the good ponies only care for everyone else, and everyone else only cares for themselves, then the good ponies aren’t going to get what they deserve. Now, I suggest you go in there and let Miss Hope know what really happened, okay?”
Butter Cream stood there for a few moments, staring ponderously at the floor in silence. Finally, he looked back up and into Cinder’s eyes, a determined look set on his face. “Y-yeah, I will.”
It probably would have been much more dramatic had Butter Cream walked into the dining hall right then and there, but the small pony held back for a moment to try to figure out how he could keep his attitude and ask for help walking at the same time. The mare beside him stood from the floor and winked at him when he eventually did squeak out his request, her horn flaring with a white glow.
As was typical for the weekends, Golden Hope’s was packed with ponies and filled with the delectable scents of all varieties of foods. Waiters and waitresses scurried by, either expertly balancing trays of freshly-prepared food or lifting the trays in the air with magic. Each was cleanly dressed to show that the restaurant took itself seriously. Just as well, the wardrobe doubled as an expert device for pulling in higher class denizens of Manehattan. The clean white, black, and olive color scheme of the restaurant interior also served this purpose excellently, providing a “modern” design for the patrons to indulge themselves in. Expensive-looking paintings clung to the walls and finely-crafted lamps and chandeliers bathed the dining hall in light. The sitting cushions were made of sturdy, yet fine, material, colored forest green and trimmed in gold around the seams, emblazoned with the restaurant logo upon it.
Judging by the large party of guests that Fancy Pants had brought with him, one could hazard a guess and say that the presentation worked well enough to snag ponies as far away as even Canterlot.
Butter Cream weaved past the guests and waitresses that blocked his path to Golden Hope, who had made herself quite visible in the front area of the dining hall where she and Fancy Pants’ party were seated. Cinder’s magic glow began to fade as the little pony got further into the hall, where she could not see him, and soon he winced as his weight returned to his bruised shoulder.
Fancy Pants and his cohorts were engaged in conversation with Miss Hope when Butter Cream finally arrived at their group of tables. He suddenly felt very out of place; while the ponies around him were dressed in expensive-looking suits and dresses, he wore nothing of the sort. Butter Cream briefly began to wonder if he’d made the wrong decision to confront Miss Hope now, of all times, instead of sometime later, preferably when he wasn’t surrounded by haughty laughter and condescending tones.
The faint feeling of being stared at managed to snap Butter Cream out of his thoughts, and he suddenly realized that the chatter before him had died down now that Golden Hope was nearly glaring at him.
“Butter Cream, darling,” the boss began, fighting her voice to hide her anger, “I trust you know the rules for entering this section of the dining hall?”
While he did understand that the dining hall was divided into two sections and that the one he was currently standing in required some type of formal dress, Butter Cream had ultimately ignored this rule for his own sake.
“I n-needed to talk to you.” Butter Cream replied, his eyes falling to the floor out of habit.
“I say, is that the little fellow from before?”
Butter Cream’s heart skipped a beat and he looked up to once again meet the captivating gaze of Canterlot’s premiere pony.
“Yes, it is.” Once again, Golden Hope had taken to speaking through her teeth. She took a deep breath and added, “I apologise for the disturbance.”
“Not at all!” Fancy Pants responded, looking over at her with a sophisticated grin upon his face. “He needed to speak with you, of course. Surely you must make time to answer the inquiries of your esteemed employees?”
Butter Cream was faintly aware of a warm feeling in his face, and had been staring at Fancy Pants for but a moment before Golden Hope regained his attention by clearing her throat.
“Er, yes, of course I do. Come around next to me, Butter Cream.” Golden Hope said, recollected. The manner in which she called Butter Cream to her side, however, seemed to the baker to be quite cold.
He quickly trotted around the tables and stopped next to his boss, who was now looking down at him as she had the delivery pony earlier that morning, only this time she seemed quite more expectant that he would not be wasting her time. Butter Cream felt a pit form in his stomach at the sight of Golden Hope, and he was almost unable to squeak out his concern.
“Er, when you b-bumped into me this morning--” Butter Cream was cut off suddenly by Golden Hope’s loud “Hmph!”
“As if I would do such a thing!” She stared incredulously down at him. Butter Cream cast a quick glance around to see that the rest of the nearby ponies didn’t quite share the same side of the story as him, either.
Taking a deep breath, Butter Cream continued, “But you did! I didn’t mean to cause a scene before--and I don’t mean to now, either!-- but I hadn’t, er, realized that I’d injured my shoulder at the time. So now I--”
Once again, Golden Hope interrupted Butter Cream’s request, this time leaning down so she could meet him eye-to-eye. “Listen carefully, darling.” The whispered word dripped with fury. “I cannot personally deal with every injury that takes place in my restaurant because somepony wasn’t careful about where he was standing. I don’t know what you are trying to get from me, but I’m not about to offer anything. Do you understand?”
Butter Cream hadn’t quite been prepared for the bite of Golden Hope’s furiously whispered response, but he nevertheless puffed up his chest and, in spite of himself, confidently said, “All I want is an apology!”
Golden Hope blinked, casting a slightly confused glance about the group. She sat back up on her cushion, an apologetic smile suddenly crossing her lips, though her eyes closed condescendingly. “Oh, well, if that’s all you wanted, I’m terribly sorry about your shoulder!”
In truth, Butter Cream had meant to ask for the rest of the day off to heal, but the presence of the ponies around him, who now smiled in response to Golden Hope, had significantly weakened his resolve. It was all he could do to prevent himself from trembling in the presence of the wealthy customers.
He would have to bear with his shoulder for now.
“Now, if that is all, I would like to get back to my conversation with these fine ponies.” Golden Hope stated. Her terse tone caused Butter Cream to respond with a quick nod before he turned and scurried away from her table.
He could hear one of the ponies murmur, “How rude,” as he made his exit.
Unfortunately, Butter Cream, trying to clear his mind with deep breaths, had gone the wrong direction. Rather than the relatively empty anteroom, or even the back rooms where the employees gathered, Butter Cream had accidentally escaped into the second part of the dining hall. This area was much less populated than the main area, where the well-clothed ponies sat and conversed, and considerably less expensive in terms of the paintings hung upon the walls. Not that the room looked any different than the other room; it still maintained the expensive, borderline-gaudy feel of the rest of the restaurant.
Unlike the main room, however, this area was for, in Golden Hope’s words, the “other” ponies. The ponies that sat and ate around Butter Cream were not dressed like the rich ponies, if they even wore clothes. Here were the lower-middle class ponies, who were made to be paraded through the main dining hall so that they could look at the wealthy upper crust before they reached their table. Ponies with children, especially, were made to sit here so as to keep the customers of high esteem comfortable and content.
Frankly, the setup made Butter Cream a little bit sick, but Golden Hope’s wasn’t the only restaurant that worked this way. Manehattan was famous for its wealthy, sophisticated upper class, and the ponies in charge, who happened to be the wealthy upper class citizens, worked quite hard to keep appearances that way. Not that it wasn’t a despicable practice.
But the ponies here were much more comforting to be around. Scattered about the room were small groups of average ponies, spending their time at the restaurant to eat and converse with friends, rather than gain publicity. Sometimes Butter Cream wondered if the ponies in the main area even cared what they were eating, but he knew for sure that the ponies shuffled to the back were sincere when they gave their compliments to the crew. That sort of response made working at Golden Hope’s a bearable experience, and the thought of these ponies’ true gratitude was enough to help him calm down again.
A pony dressed in a black vest passed by, heading into the main dining room. Perhaps he was bound to attempt to get in with the upper crust. Butter Cream didn’t quite care for them at the moment.
His shoulder throbbing faintly, Butter Cream decided he’d make for the employee passage that led out of this area so he could enjoy what remained of his break, even if it meant outlasting the dull pain. Shuffling and limping along, the stallion padded across the soft carpet, the pain in his shoulder occasionally eliciting a squeak, his eyes focused on the floor not too distant from his body.
It was likely that the ensuing collision was partially Butter Cream’s fault.
“I’m sorry!” There had been little provocation before Butter Cream let out the apology as he tried to push himself off of the carpet.
“No, no, crap... no, I should be sorry.”
The voice came from above the small baker, and Butter Cream soon found that he was being gingerly hoisted into the air by a unicorn. When his hooves found solid purchase on the floor, he turned to the side to face a set of skinny, light coffee-colored legs. It took a few moments before it registered in the dazed pony’s brain that very clearly there must be something attached to those legs, which presumably was what was now currently apologizing over and over again from above.
Butter Cream shook the hair out of his eyes and looked up as far as he comfortably could to find a unicorn peering back down at him, the corners of his mouth pointing down and his eyebrows raised in dismay. A pair of glasses reflected his small form back down at him.
“Sorry, sorry...” the unicorn repeated behind the glasses. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“W-well, I don’t think I-- Ouch!” Butter Cream hadn’t finished the sentence because he had hopped back before the glasses, slipping off of the pony’s nose, could drop sharply on his face. The quick step back flared up his previously-bruised shoulder, and Butter Cream cringed.
“Sorry! I’ve got them!”
The glasses floated just above the carpet, wrapped in a vanilla glow. Butter Cream followed them as they floated back up to the unicorn’s face, which was now covered up by golden hair. He shook it out of the way before sliding the glasses back upon his nose and adjusting them firmly so that they would not fall again for at least another minute or two. With the glare on the glasses now gone, Butter Cream spied a pair of dark sapphire eyes, and his heart fluttered.
Normally, any pony was considered tall when viewed through Butter Cream’s eyes, but this unicorn was decidedly more so. His slim body and skinny legs seemed almost as if they had been stretched in order to provide the extra height. This would have intimidated the baker had he not been ignoring the unicorn’s stature and apologetic smile to gaze into his eyes instead.
“Aw, geez, did I do that?” The unicorn’s voice was smooth and gentle as he kneeled down, his eyes fixed upon something to Butter Cream’s side. “I’m really, really sorry.”
Butter Cream followed his glance after a moment and, realized that he’d been looking at his shoulder, replied, “No, no, I did that earlier today when I got on my break...”
His voice trailed off as his attention was pulled by something vaguely familiar. Butter Cream sniffed the air once, then twice, before confirming his suspicions. Something was giving off the faint scent of freshly-ground coffee beans, and it was coming from directly in front of him.
“... Er, um, yes, that would be me that you’re smelling.” The unicorn stated this rather blandly, and Butter Cream almost frowned at the sudden lack of suspense.
“...S-sorry.” Butter Cream’s face flushed pink and he looked away out of embarrassment. “B-but you didn’t cause this injury, really.”
A soft sigh escaped the unicorn’s lips. “That’s a relief.” He paused. “Well, partially a relief. Are you sure you shouldn’t be walking around with your shoulder like that?”
“I probably shouldn’t...” groaned Butter Cream, leaning back and sitting on the ground. “Why? Does it look bad?”
The unicorn, who had been standing back up, flinched when he saw the little pony sit down. “I, er, think you had better move out of the way.” There was a hesitant pause, again, before he hurriedly added, “Why don’t you sit here for the time being? My friend’s gone, but it would be better if you weren’t, er, tripped over.”
Butter Cream had opened his mouth to declare his displeasure at his height being so rudely mentioned when he realized that he was, in fact, sitting in the middle of the walkway between the rows of tables. In place of his displeasure, he looked over at the table next to the unicorn to find that two plates sat on opposite sides of it, covered in partially-eaten food.
Butter Cream recognized both dishes: one was vegetable soup, half finished with the spoon set to the side, while the other was grilled vegetable kebabs, skewered with thin, plastic rods. It was a small leap in judgment to realized that the kebabs had to be the unicorn’s order, as the spoon that sat aside the soup bowl had a loosened strap around the end.
Seeing as he’d been offered a seat, the small stallion nervously sat upon the cushion nearest to the soup. It was still slightly warm, but it relieved him somewhat to sit upon the soft pillow instead of having to stand and strain his shoulder.
Butter Cream felt vaguely proud of himself when he saw the unicorn take his seat opposite him without any objections.
The unicorn looked, curiously enough, around the room, almost worriedly, before his eyes returned to Butter Cream, and then his shoulder. “It’s, uh, it’s a little red right now.”
He could’ve sworn that the unicorn had been referring to his face and almost panicked, but evidently the unicorn had noticed Butter Cream’s jumpiness and added that he was speaking of the bruised shoulder. At that, Butter Cream’s face once more became tinged with pink.
“I-is it really?”
“It looks bad. You’re sure I didn’t cause it?”
Butter Cream nodded, looking around the dining hall for a moment, spotting only a few other occupied tables. “Like I said, it happened when I got off for my break. It’s just a little bruised, that’s all.”
“...If you say so.” The unicorn had also taken to looking around the room before resting his gaze at the table before him.
The silence grew between the two until it had nearly become tangible, at which point Butter Cream stammered, “S-so, uh, why is it that you smell so much like coffee beans?”
This caused the unicorn to stare blankly at Butter Cream, his eyes wide behind his glasses, before his lips spread wide and he began to laugh. Butter Cream cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I’m sorry...?”
“I didn’t mean to laugh, I just-- Oh! Have you not seen my--” The unicorn, still smiling and chuckling, stood and turned to the side so that Butter Cream could see his flank. Upon it appeared at first to be just a grouping of dark brown spots. In fact, Butter Cream was more interested in the unicorn’s long, braided tail, than what was apparently his cutie mark.
Noticing that Butter Cream didn’t understand, the unicorn’s smile faded and he, almost disdainfully, said, “I make coffee. My cutie mark is a pile of coffee beans.”
“Oh!” Butter Cream’s face flushed red again and this time he tried to cover it up with a hoof. “I-I, uh... oh, shoot...”
He heard a sigh escape from the pony across from him as he sat down once more. “Don’t worry about it.”
Once more, the silence spread awkwardly between the two ponies. Butter Cream resisted the urge to reach over and fiddle with the spoon nearby, instead deciding that the floral pattern on the carpet was very captivating.
“... You’re absolutely sure I didn’t hurt you?”
Butter Cream blinked and looked back at the unicorn, catching his gaze before his blue eyes snapped back to the table, his head hanging slightly. The baker seemed very confused that the unicorn was still asking him this question.
“Well it does hurt just a little bit to fall over, but I don’t have a very long way to fall, so...” Butter Cream half-forced a chuckle, and the brown unicorn nervously forced one of his own in response. The fake laughter did not hang in the air for very long. It was now becoming very obvious to Butter Cream that perhaps something was amiss with the unicorn.
He had just opened his mouth to speak when another voice crossed over his, eliciting the unicorn across from him to nearly jump to his hooves.
“Well, now, who is this? Somepony I should know?”
Butter Cream turned around to find that the source of the voice had come from just behind him, slightly lower in pitch than his and tinged with a familiar sense of self-importance not unlike that of the ponies in the main dining hall, was a pony bigger than he was, coated white with a wavy golden brown mane and tail. He wore a black vest and cuffs above his hooves, and had he perhaps been wearing a full jacket as opposed to just a vest, Butter Cream might have mistaken the earth pony for one of his co-workers. His dark purple eyes were set on Butter Cream, who nervously began to give a response when the unicorn spoke up.
“Oh, no, I was just offering him a place to rest after I accidentally bumped into him! He’s injured his shoulder. See?” The apologetic smile had returned to the unicorn’s face, but this time it was not for Butter Cream.
The white pony looked at the unicorn, an eyebrow raised, before looking back at Butter Cream, and then coming to rest his eyes once more on the unicorn. Then, his expression relaxed and he tilted his head back to laugh carefully, giving Butter Cream a chilly reminder of Golden Hope.
“And here I had assumed that you’d suddenly taken an interest in mares!” Once more, Butter Cream was greeted with an image of Golden Hope flashing across his mind and it was all he could do to prevent the grimace from remaining on his face for more than a second. “How careless of you, Caramel! Did you at least apologize to the poor little morsel?”
“Profusely, of course.” Caramel looked down at his hooves shamefully, his glasses once again trying to escape the tyranny of his face.
Butter Cream suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the unicorn. The pony behind him was practically Golden Hope in a stallion’s body, so Butter Cream could only reason that this was his boss giving Caramel a hard time.
“Well, then, honey, I surely hope you won’t do it again.”
Butter Cream blinked and had to stop himself from visibly looking between the two ponies. His heart fluttered once more. Was this really what was going on around him right now? Surely he was not in the middle of what was about to become a lover’s quarrel?
Caramel turned his apologetic gaze once more to Butter Cream after having secured his glasses once again. “Again, I’m really sorry.”
“O-oh, no, i-it’s quite fine, mister, um... Caramel.” Butter Cream replied, nervously trying to play it off. Judging by the other earth pony’s expression, he hadn’t been successful.
“It’s actually Mocha Caramel,” corrected the unicorn.
“Only I have the privilege of calling him ‘Caramel.’ Don’t I, sweetie?” The earth pony smiled innocently, and something about it made Butter Cream slightly angry.
“Of course, Cheesecake. Why would it be any other way?” Mocha Caramel replied. His words sounded strained.
Butter Cream could practically taste the tension in the air, so he quickly stood from the cushion, wincing as his shoulder came under pressure once again, and said, “Well, my, my! My, uh, break is almost up-- I really had better get going!”
He had started to quickly trot away when Cheesecake said, “Oh, but dear, you haven’t even shared your name!”
Butter Cream stopped and turned to face Cheesecake, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, I’m sorry! My name is Butter Cream!”
Mocha Caramel, now between Butter Cream and Cheesecake, said, “Well, I hope you’ll be alright, Butter Cream. Take care of that shoulder, okay?”
“I will. Thank you for offering to keep me company! Now, I really must get going!” Butter Cream once more turned and scurried down the rows of tables toward a door labeled “Employees Only.”
He only looked back at the couple for a split second once he reached the door, faintly catching the sour phrase, “Butter Cream, eh? Sounds delicious...” before he pushed past the door and back into the kitchen area.
Butter Cream felt as though he had just jumped across the tracks at Manehattan Central Station.
* * *
It was slightly difficult returning to work with his bruised shoulder, and after having been told about it, Golden Harvest had nearly stormed out the kitchen when Butter Cream protested that she didn’t. Harvest had seethed for a while, but after a few deep breaths she agreed not to make trouble with her mother so long as she could bring it up after work hours. The last thing Butter Cream wanted was to cause even more trouble with Golden Hope than he already had; he had his suspicions that after Fancy Pants left the restaurant, the very first place Golden Hope would go was the kitchen so that she could make an example of him in front of the rest of the bakers.
It only seemed fitting that, of the sounds coming from the other kitchen, the chopping sounds were the ones Butter Cream heard the loudest.
To keep himself from succumbing to anxiety, Butter Cream focused more intently on his duties. He was mixing the batter for a rich and fluffy chocolate cake, which was soon destined for the oven pending the completion of what he was certain was the vanilla cake that he needed to ice.
All around him, the rest of the bakers chattered, mixing batter or kneading dough.
Butter Cream let his mind wander as he poured the batter into a cake pan, thinking back on that unicorn, Mocha Caramel, and his weird behavior. It had been bothering him since he had left on that rather awkward note between Mocha Caramel and his apparent boyfriend, the pony named Cheesecake. He had to be honest with himself: it really seemed like something was about to fall apart between the two.
Setting aside the first pan and now pouring into a second, the baker gazed out of the window where he could see that sunlight had partially melted away the snow on Manehattan’s streets. Ponies were now out and enjoying their Saturday, small puffs of white appearing around their noses and mouths as they trotted down the paved streets. Some carried bags with store logos emblazoned loudly on them; others simply walked side-by-side, enjoying the other’s company.
Butter Cream sighed, looking back down to scrape the last of the batter into the pan with a spatula. He no longer felt like doing any more baking today.
Suddenly, the kitchen doors opened, and a waitress entered, levitating a tray with a slice of cake, decorated in white frosting that had a red rose tastefully crafted on top. Upon her face was a very uneasy, yet relieved look, and she announced to the bakers, “You know what? I think we might need to just save this for the next one, alright? I do not want to serve table 47 right now.”
Butter Cream rolled his eyes and resumed his work, nudging the filled cake pans along the countertop toward the ovens while the other ponies around him became immediately interested in whatever it was that the waitress was so worked up about.
“What happened?” asked Rosemary.
The waitress took in a very audible breath and held it dramatically for a few moments before saying, “I almost walked out into the middle of a messy break-up.”
There were several gasps in the kitchen, one of which belonged to a particular vanilla stallion. He was not sure why, but Butter Cream immediately snapped his attention to the steamy windows overlooking the street.
He saw a familiar braided tail disappear around a corner.
