A Troublesome Life

And then I woke up. The first thing that I realized: It was a dream. The second thing; it was that kind of dream. I groaned, and got out of bed. I took the sheets, and walked downstairs with them. I saw Rarity and Sweetie eating some toast.

“Oh, hello Strum… why are you carrying the sheets?” She asked. I looked at the sheets. My face grew hot, and I looked back at Rarity: I really hoped she understood so I didn’t have to say it… especially in front of a little filly. Her face grew red, and she nodded in understanding. I trotted over to the closet and put them in it. I hadn’t a clue what to do with them. I decided to go outside.

While I was walking to the market place, I saw those two mares from my dream. I shuddered, and continued walking.

Suddenly, there was a loud CRASH. I jumped, and swerved around, just in time to dodge a speeding brick.

“And don’t you ever come back!” yelled a grey mare with black hair. The DJ from the party was running away from her. I was utterly confused at what had happened. I walked over to the mare.

“You just nearly bashed my skull in with a flying brick.” I said, with a smile. She didn’t return it, and looked at me angrily. My smile faded a bit. I decided to ask another of the most important questions:

“Who are you?” I could have worded it better. But, hey, it was to the point, and I had shopping to do.

“What is it to you?” She asked. She had a bit of the ‘Canterlot accent’. I had never developed it, even with living there for twenty-some years. I rubbed the back of my head. What was it to me? I was truly wondering why.

“Well, I’m not too sure.” I replied. She still looked angry. I remembered  that one saying; ‘Hell hath no fury like a mare In scorn’. I don’t remember who said it. I looked at her. She had a pink bow-tie. Her cutiemark was a treble-cleft. I realized my mistake as I got a hoof to the face. My hoof rose to my cheek.

“Ah! Sheesh!” I exclaimed. I was about to get angry when she shouted at me.

“How dare you stare at my flank!” I was flustered. I had no clue what to do. I didn’t really want to do anything wrong to get even more on her bad-side. I decided to take a lighter approach.

“Perhaps we got off on the wrong hoof?” I said, thinking it’d hopefully get me through it… It didn’t.

“Yes; we did, now, please leave.” She said coldly. I rubbed the back of my head. My face was growing hotter. My ears drooped. I gave a nervous smile. She looked at me with anger, then, some sort of… interest? She looked at my flank. I felt a bit awkward. She made it so obvious… was she… teasing?

“H-hey!” I said. I moved my back so it was out of her view. She smiled at me. Good, a smile: That’s good progress, I thought. I decided to ask another question;

“So, wha-“ I was cut off my a sharp pain in my groin. I fell to the ground, holding down there with my fore-hooves. My eyes were tearing up. I looked up at the mare who had just delivered the blow. She was purple, with a darker purple mane. She seemed highly intoxicated, and laughed as she ran away. I let out a whimper as I tried to stand. A sound came to my ears: The sound of a mare’s laughter. Not the drunk one; the one in front of me. I looked at the grey mare clutching her ribs, laughing. Well; that broke the ice… wait a second:

“Did you pay her to do that?” I said; my voice much higher than usual. She continued to laugh, but between breaths said something that I made out as a ‘no’. I couldn’t laugh; I was still in pain. What the hell is wrong with that purple mare, I thought to myself. The grey mare seemed to stop laughing. I decided to ask the question I meant to earlier. I cleared my throat.

“So, what happened with you and that DJ?” I asked. My voice was back to normal: Good. She regained her posture, and cleared her throat as well. Her face was stern, and so was her voice.

“None of your business.” She said. I shrugged; might as well not pry too much into it. I decided that if I wasn’t going to find that out; why not find out a few other things?

“So, your name was…?” I inquired. She looked at me, a bit surprised. She hid her emotions well, I must say, because she instantly hid it again.

“Octavia.” She said, with the same stern-ness as before. I held out my hoof to shake, and she shook it… daintily. Usually; you can tell what kind of pony they are by their hoof-shake. From her’s; I could tell she was a lady-like… that was about it. And, from her cutiemark; I could tell that she was also into music. I decided to ask her about it.

“So, are you into music?” I asked, and, this time; she wasn’t fazed.

“Yes.” She said. ‘Yes’? That’s it? Not even going to talk about it? I thought. I looked at her. She gave me a cold look back. I decided to elaborate on my question.

“Are you a composer of sorts?” I asked her. She, again, replied sternly.

“No, I am a cellist.” She said. I decided that if she wasn’t going to go much into the conversation; I would.

“Well, we have a bit in common: I play the guitar.” I said. Once again; the reply was a cold stare. I decided to just give up, and move on.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Octavia.” I said. She actually spoke a bit more than she has.

“It wasn’t that nice of a meeting. And, your name was…?” Well, that was more a response I hoped for earlier, I thought. My body was a head of me, as I didn’t even realize I had all ready said my auto-intro-sentence.

“Well, goodbye, Strum.” She said, as she walked into what I guessed was her home. I couldn’t help but feel it was very awkward. I walked away. Why do I care so much?  I thought, what is it with that mare that made me want to talk to her. Then a thought popped into my head; I may have a little bit of a crush. I laughed a bit at the thought: A grown stallion, having a crush. I decided to continue to the market.

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Throughout shopping; I couldn’t get that damned mare out of my head. The thoughts were mostly questions. There are too many to list, so I’ll spare you the time of saying a few: ‘Is she interested in me? Does she hate me? Is she a…’ and they go on and on. I decided to delve into the present, and pay the stallion for the cherries. He had been yelling at me for a minute or so, because I was just standing there, looking into space.

I began walking again, still wondering about Octavia. I shrugged, and continued walking. I began to think about something else: How can I kick-start my guitar career in Ponyville? I tapped my chin. I’ll need to book gigs, and, of course; I’ll need others as well. Not many ponies these days seem to be into rock. I thought of many different genres I could do. I knew quite a few songs from almost every genre off the top of my head. I smiled at a thought: Classical. Octavia seemed to be into classical, judging on her personality and the instrument she plays. I had realized I began thinking about her again.