Patience was a trait that Roseluck carried in abundance. It was almost compulsory to, she was a gardener after all. Even before she had gotten her cutie mark in gardening, she knew that good things came to those who waited for them. For her, such good things often came in the form of a bountiful bushel of roses, or a deliciously fresh set of vegetables straight from the nurturing soil. The flora that she learned to care for weren’t the only things that gave her the motive to be patient. The arrival of her lover coming home to meet her after the day had been spent was another prominent example. Speaking of lovers...
Rose had a love/hate relationship with the empty void that she was often thrown into when she was waiting for her Romeo (or her Juliet, in some rare cases). Of course, she would always find things to occupy herself with, if only to keep her mind off the abysmal feeling of it all. However, that same gaping hole only made the feeling that much better whenever they came back to fill in the gap with their affection and compassion.
‘Yes,’ the mare thought to herself. ‘That’s certainly something worth waiting for.’
So she did. Turning her eyes back to the clock that adorned her wall, she sat there, watching it’s hands move slower and slower until it seemed that time was going nowhere. Still, the mare attempted to lose herself in the time- if only she could hear the ticking. Where did it go?
The door slowly creaked open.
“Rose? Are you still up?”
Tick. Tock.
Ah. There it was.
Roseluck gave her clock one last wistful glance before she turned around to see who was standing in her doorway. She gave a little smile to said pony.
“Oh. Lily, good evening. I thought you’d be asleep by now. It is pretty late after all.”
Lily soon came into view as she stepped into Rose’s room. She did show signs of fatigue and slight crankiness; what with the bed mane and bags under her eyes, one of them slowly being rubbed by a hoof.
“I could say the same thing to you, Rose. I was on my way to use the little filly's room when I saw that there was light coming from your room.” Removing her hoof from her eye, she began to inspect her friend’s living quarters. “Or something like that.” Finished with her inspection, Lily turned back to Roseluck with a raised brow. “Rose, what’s going on here?”
The red-maned mare shrank a little under Lily’s gaze, blood rushing to her cheeks, giving them a faint shade of crimson. It wasn’t as if she had spent time sitting in complete darkness with nothing but Luna’s moonlight streaming through her window (though the idea didn’t sound too bad). No, she had kept herself busy by making sure her sure her bedroom was inviting and romantic enough for her lover. Rose petals of various hues of red and pink were spread across the floor and her bedsheets, scented candles placed precariously throughout the room to give off an enticing aroma, all lit with flames that gave the occasional flicker before returning to the slow sway in the breeze. Next to her bed was her nightstand, a bottle of champagne resting in an ice bucket beside two empty wine glasses. Next to that was a phonograph playing a soft piano tune, the tinkling of keys dancing around the room and in the ears of the two mares occupying it.
“I-it’s not... too much, is it?” Roseluck mumbled, asking herself more so than the pink mare in front of her. “I didn’t overdo it, right?”
(bad raunchy sex joke goes here)
Rose heard the phonograph making that sudden scratching sound, stopping the music before awkward silence began fIlling the bedroom. The laughter that Lily was struggling to contain threatened to burst out as the color of Rose’s cheeks soon became indistinguishable from the color of her mane. The now flustered mare was watching her pink friend trying her hardest not to laugh at her embarrassment.
“LILY!” she whined. “This isn’t funny! I was asking a serious question!”
The bales of laughter now nearly gone from her gut, Lily giggled a final time, wiping a tear from her eye as she approached the embarrassed mare.
“Relax, girl. You know I’m just teasing.” She cleared her throat, ready to (attempt to) answer her friend’s question. “I don’t think this is overkill, but I DO think it’s a wasted effort. I mean really, what stallion these days will appreciate all of this?” Lily waved a hoof around at the room’s decor, indicating what she was talking about.
At the mention of the word ‘stallion’, Roseluck’s body tensed up, her ears splayed back against her head while her left hoof drew circles on the bed. This did not go unnoticed by Lily, who was perplexed by the mare’s sudden behavior.
Rose didn’t answer, her face still turned away from her pink-colored friend. After a brief moment of silence, she shook her head.
“Oh, it’s a mare, then?” Lily was still confused. Was that what Rose was worried about? It’s not like dating the same sex was unusual or anyt- Oh. Another shake of the head. So it wasn’t a mare. Wait, then that meant-
“Rose?” Lily asked, a hint of trepidation obvious in her voice. “If it’s not a stallion or mare you’re seeing, then who?” Lily gasped. “Roseluck, you aren’t dating...”
Roseluck gulped nervously before nodding her head to confirm Lily’s assumptions to be true. She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing herself for the inevitable scolding that was sure to come from her friend’s mouth.
Lily stood there, completely lost as how to express her thoughts on the matter without upsetting the mare in front of her. Her first instinct was to babble aimlessly with no sense of coherence whatsoever. The second was far simpler and often the choice she went with, which was nothing more than putting a hoof to the side of her head and merely fainting on the spot. She had evolved from that however (or so she liked to think. The instinct would always be there- it was part of who she was). She shook her head, quelling the thoughts running amok in her head, focusing once again on Rose, who was now staring at her, head tilted to the side in curious concern.
The blonde-maned mare cleared her throat, hoping to bring focus back to the previous topic on hoof.
“Rose,” she started as gently as she could, though this seemed to be in vain as Roseluck seemed to draw away from her voice like a foal’s hoof from a hot stove after touching it. Lily frowned, now seeing that there was no point in beating around the bush any longer. She sighed and approached the red-maned mare on the bed, sitting herself down next to her. The bed gave a tiny little groan in protest from having two mares on it, but both of them paid it no mind.
“Rose,” she began again, her voice now carrying a much firmer tone to it, although she made sure that there was some sense of patience sprinkled in it. “Me and Daisy both saw how happy you were when you came back from that vacation you took with him. We were both happy for you as well, but…”
“But what?” Roseluck whispered, unable to keep her tone from sounding a little defensive. She wasn't angry at Lily, just a little cautious at what her close friend had to say about her relationship. It didn't seem like it was anything positive, if Lily's hesitation was anything to go by.
“How do you know he’s coming back?” The pink mare decided it would be best if she got an idea of what Rose’s situation was before she made a final verdict. “You know the kind of lifestyle that he leads, what with those groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. Heck, you used to be one of them, for pony’s sake!”
Roseluck flinched at that; Lily’s words carried more truth in them than she’d like to admit. There was indeed a certain time when her affections for him were nothing more than superficial infatuation. And why would there be anything more at that moment? She didn’t know anything about him other than what the media and the gossip magazines told. A handsome, charismatic individual who seemed to blow up into an overnight sensation in Equestria, even with his superstardom status from his own world.
And what was she? Just an ordinary flower mare in an insignificant little town whose biological clock was sadly starting to catch up on her. At least that’s what her insecurities were telling her.
So she went to one of his performances. If not to enjoy herself (which she highly doubted would happen at the time), then perhaps to reminisce on her days as a youthful, naive and flowering young mare. Or maybe she went to confirm to herself how out of it she really was.
Whatever was her mindset then, she went.
The events that transpired that night would forever be etched in her mind and sung in her heart.
Roseluck now knew for a fact that she was getting older. The first thing that entered her mind when the music came on at full blast through the stadium’s speakers were:
‘They really need to turn that down.’
With her ears splayed back against her head in an attempt to reduce the assault on her eardrums, the mare continued walking to her seat; passing by row upon row of rambunctious, lively teenagers and young adults. They were showing no attempts at restraining their seemingly limitless bounds of enthusiasm and spirit. Why should they? This was a place to “let your mane down” as some would put it. One night to let loose before going back home and returning to the monotonous lifestyle that she had been trying so desperately to escape from. What better place than a concert filled with thousands of screaming fans; and where the speakers carried enough bass to make Rose wonder if her brain would ever stop rattling in her skull.
Who was the one that suggested coming here again?
“ROSE! ROSELUCK! OVER HERE!”
A yell that contained the mare’s name barely reached her ears over the din of the concert, slightly muffled due to her ears still folded against her head. Perking one of them up, Rose waited, listening for the voice to say her name once more.
“RIGHT HERE, GIRL!”
It was far closer than she had expected. And by far closer she meant the voice was practically right in her ear, overpowering the music and crowd noise, if only for a moment.
With a dull ringing now in her ears, Roseluck turned to see the other mare who was now tugging on her foreleg to take her to their seats.
“ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF?!” The mare who Rose confirmed as Pink Petal, or Lily’s niece, certainly seemed to be. Even as they walked towards their spots, the young mare was moving her body along with the music, her head bobbing to the thump of the bass and her hips swaying, enough to catch the eyes of some of the teenage stallions and human males. Some were tactless enough to wolf-whistle and bark at her, pumping their hooves (and hands) while doing so.
Rose shook her head. “No class…” she mumbled to herself so Pink Petal wouldn’t hear her. Not that it mattered. She could talk at her normal volume and her voice would immediately be swept away in the current energetic, bouncy and adrenaline-pumping atmosphere.
Pink Petal must’ve taken Rose’s shake of the head as an answer to her question, for she yelled back, “WELL DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT! YOU’LL GET USED TO IT EVENTUALLY!” Jerking the older mare abruptly to the left, pulling her down a row and ignoring the disgruntled cries of some of the spectators, not bothering to excuse herself to them. Sitting down in a seat, Lily’s niece patted the one next to her, an eager smile adorning her features. Roseluck sighed and reluctantly sat down, moving around until she felt comfortable.
She might be here a while.
“Is that the last of the bags?”
“I think so.”
“Anything else you need help with, sir?”
Derek clasped his hands together and looked back and forth from the stallion standing in front of him to his luggage. Satisfied, he gave said stallion a quick nod of the head, an appreciative smile stretching his lips. “ I think we’re good.”
The stallion returned his nod, trotting away from him back to the main cars of the train, away from the first class section. “Have a nice night, sir. If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to ask.”
Once the door to his sleeping car slid shut, Derek exhaled loudly, falling back on the temporary bed with a loud POMF!. He looked around, taking in the decor of his temporary lodge. The walls were a fluffy, marshmallow white with scarlet branch-like patterns covering them. Combined together with the various lights covering the walls, dimmed to a sensual golden-orange, the room was now bathed in a rosy shimmer that gave the room a fuzzy, almost hazy atmosphere to it. He felt his eyelids slowly fluttering shut, the patterns slowly blurring into the dark, the rose-tinted lights lulling him, seducing him into a deep sleep…
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
Derek groaned audibly, irritated that his to-be slumber was being interrupted by whoever was at his door knocking. As he stood up from the bed and begrudgingly inched towards the sliding door, he wondered if he would ever catch a big enough break and be satisfied.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
Apparently not.
Derek opened the door to see the same stallion from earlier, who was staring at the ground while rubbing one of his forelegs against the other. He didn’t seem to take notice that Derek was now standing in front of him; the stallion seemed more keen on continuing his staring contest with the floor.
This isn’t awkward at all. Derek thought to himself as he waited for the stallion to acknowledge his presence. When that failed to accomplish anything, he decided to take the initiative himself. Coughing lightly into his hand, he spoke to the pony in front of him.
“Uh… is there something you need sir?”
The stallion lifted his head up, a nervous smile adorning his features
