A unicorn opened his eyes with a start. His ears had registered a sharp ringing noise. As the hazy clouds of sleep began to drift away and his head started to clear, he rolled over to look at the clock jittering on the nightstand beside his bed.
8:00AM, it read. The stallion breathed a sigh that held a mixture of relief and disappointment, and a half-second glow from his horn telekinetically pressed down the alarm button on the clock. The ringing ceased, and the sounds of Canterlot were faintly audible from the half-open window in the unicorn’s bedroom. A few slits of morning sunlight filtered through the blinds that had been drawn over the opening, drifting with a slight breeze and moving their beams through dust motes in the air.
He sat up and yawned, raising his hooves to his eyes to rub away the dreariness. When he could see again, he glanced around his room, taking his time. From left to right, he looked over his desk with its crumpled papers, typewriter, and lamp; the painting of a grey unicorn mare standing confidently over a cliff; the bookshelves dominating the entire corner and wall of the room, with the exception of a wide closet where he kept a few sets of clothes and spare bedsheets. He stretched his legs as he rolled out of bed and got to his hooves. He looked again at his desk while his horn glowed, pulling the bedsheets up neatly behind him.
What am I going to do with you? He asked internally, reading over the characters on the paper. Your readers will be growing impatient. He sighed, looking away and towards the portrait labeled “Silvia” on the opposite wall. His mild frustration, while in the form of a one-sided discussion, was truly only directed at himself. Writer’s block wouldn’t simply solve itself, he knew. Thus, it was no use moping around his house about it. He tore his gaze away from the art on the wall and went over to his closet, opening it up and looking for his glasses.
He quickly found what he was looking for, raising them from the shelf he’d last put them on and fitting them onto his snout. He blinked a few times as his vision became clear. The unicorn glanced over to the bookshelves standing next to his closet. Now that he could read the words on the backs, he looked over each author’s section.
First to see, dominating a large section of the shelves, was A.K. Yearling. She was among the most famous writers throughout Equestria, thanks to her work with the Daring Do series. The unicorn wondered to himself if her fame was the reason why she lived in near-isolation in the corner of Equestria. His eyes drifted down to his own books, under the name of PenLion.
Yearling could just use an alternate name, as I do, if she wanted to avoid being stalked by fans. He frowned, reflecting for a moment on his own situation. Despite living in Canterlot, even he didn’t get much social interaction. Nopony paid him much mind, and he never found it in him to go do it himself. When he traveled, he took notes to find inspiration, and not much else ever happened.
He shook his head. He had a job to do, and it didn’t include thinking about social interactions.
The unicorn turned to the door, making the bathroom his next destination. He trotted down the hall, taking a right at a door he’d been through nearly every morning. He spared himself the magical energy and flicked on the light switch with his hoof, immediately turning towards the mirror to inspect himself for any sort of unsightliness.
He saw a tan-coated stallion in his reflection, with a brown, curly mane and tail. His eyes were blue-green, shifting towards the latter color near the bottom of the irises. His build was thinner than average, giving him a slightly feminine appearance, with a squarer muzzle. His glasses (which he removed from his snout momentarily to wipe some smudges off of) were rectangular, their silver frames only wrapping around the upper half of the lenses. If he were to turn, he’d see his cutie mark printed on his flank: a notepad and pencil.
He placed his glasses back onto his nose and leaned in towards the mirror, squinting at his mane. He’d always let it do its thing, making the joke that if he did anything with it he’d end up breaking combs. However, he occasionally woke up with a case of bed head so profoundly strange that he had to do something about it, lest he go out into public with hair that for whatever reason stuck straight out to the left and refused to budge.
He was lucky today, however. His mane was poofy, but not so much so that it needed flattening. Smiling to himself in satisfaction, he left the room, turning off the lights as he went.
The unicorn passed into the kitchen, where the timed coffee maker had done its nightly duty. He smiled and patted the machine as he went near, silently praising its reliability. His horn lit up again, coating the pitcher in a blue-green aura. Simultaneously, the cupboard near the ceiling glowed for a moment as it was pulled open. Objects all around the kitchen came to life at the unicorn’s bidding. His eyes darted around to keep track of each object, noting each one in the back of his mind.
Thermos, refrigerator door, coffee pot, exactly three ice cubes, creamer with a peculiar taste of cinnamon and chocolate…
He let out a short breath as, after a few moments, the ice cubes, coffee, and creamer were all poured into the thermos and their containers were put back in their respective places. The unicorn smiled and gave the thermos a gentle shake to mix the two liquids inside. He brought it to his lips and took a sip to taste. Perfect.
The morning was going very well. Nothing to delay him, and nothing to unsettle him. Within several minutes, he was in the streets of Canterlot. He had kept his coffee thermos, and picked up his characteristic notepad and pencil. His eyes were up and always looking around, taking in the sights as he walked. It was a routine he was very well used to; he would wander about the city with half of his mind on the problem he had to solve and the other half on his surroundings, which served the dual purpose of giving him ideas and making sure he didn’t accidentally run into somepony.
That is, if other ponies took the care not to run into him.
“Look out!” A voice, practically right next to the unicorn’s ear by the time it was registered, cried to him a mere moment before a pony-sized object collided with him. He was toppled onto his side with an “oof!”
His concentration broke for only a second. It was enough to let his notepad touch the ground before he reestablished his telekinesis, saving the thermos still half-full of valuable beverage.
Brushing himself off next to the fallen unicorn was a grey-coated pegasus stallion. He had a short, spiked black mane and bright purple eyes.
And, he bears a curious resemblance to a certain character… He thought back to the portrait on his bedroom wall. Granted that she was a unicorn, the mare in the painting was none other than the protagonist of his own books, sporting the same grey coat and black mane as the stallion who’d knocked him over. The eyes were different, of course, but the ruby-colored irises that his character had were few and far between in the real world.
Finally, attention was drawn to his well-being. The stallion extended a hoof towards him, guilt flickering in his violet eyes. “Hey, sorry. Are you alright?”
The unicorn took his hoof and pulled himself upright. He gave a slight nod. “I’m fine, yes. Thank you for your… concern.” He forced a smile. In the back of his mind, he was berating the pegasus for his carelessness. What was he doing flying so quickly right above the ground?
“No problem,” the stallion replied with a wide grin. “Find me if you’re ever knocked over again.”
A short flutter of his wings matched evenly with a quick chuckle at his own joke as he turned and left. The unicorn had his mouth half-opened for a snarky reply, standing still and staring in the direction the other stallion had gone. The encounter was so peculiar, so out of the ordinary, that he couldn’t help dwelling on it. The thought wasn’t easily brushed away by the other pony's personality, either. Immediately he had projected himself as outgoing and a touch daring, with some good-natured humor and a habit of being off and running again when everything was okay. He was, quite simply, interesting and adventurous, just like his lookalike in the unicorn’s novels.
The unicorn stuck his pencil behind his ear and took off after him in a gallop.
* * *
A bright blue and yellow sign pointing out a building as “Hay Burger” marked the point where the unicorn finally gave up his chase. For a few fleeting moments he had seen the pegasus, always moving and always talking to a friend.
The venture was a long one. It was well into the afternoon when the Hay Burger sign had come into view and his stomach growled frustratedly at him. He sighed, disappointed that he hadn’t been able to observe anything else about his strangely intriguing quarry. He had even made time to stop back at home and exchange the coffee thermos for some cookies and pick up his rarely-used saddlebags to put the notepad in. He was glad now that he did, for there were a few bits piled up in there that he would need if he wanted to follow the trail of greasy yet delicious smells coming from the restaurant he now stood beside.
He opened the door, pausing to take in the staggering aroma within the building. Normally, he’d frown at how unhealthy it was, but today he was simply hungry. He went up to the end of the line stringing from the counter.
A minute passed of the unicorn staring intently at the menu. While he already knew he would be ordering a simple (yet incredibly delicious!) Hayburger, looking off into the distance in that direction was much more favorable than accidentally staring at a pony’s rear.
“Hey,” a tap on the shoulder and a familiar voice brought the unicorn out of his thoughts with a start. He jumped a little and spun around, a little quicker than he meant to.
It was the pegasus stallion he had been searching for. He had spent hours trying to follow him, and here he was at Hay Burger, of all places, as soon as the unicorn had given up.
“What’re you having?” The stallion grinned at him, just like he had several hours ago.
“Hayburger,” the unicorn replied calmly, regaining his composure.
The pegasus simply replied, “Same.”
It was the unicorn’s turn to step up to the counter, and the yellow mare working the register greeted him with a practiced smile. “Welcome to Hay Burger, home of the Hayburger! Can I take your order?”
“I’ll have a Hayburger, please,” the unicorn’s request was made with a mimicked smile.
The mare punched some buttons into her register and looked back up at him. “Would you like fries and a drink with that?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Lemonade, please.”
“Alright,” the mare smiled again as she continued, “that’ll be six bits. Thank you very much!”
“No problem,” the unicorn replied as his horn lit up with its blue-green tones and six coins floated out of his saddlebag pockets, coming to rest on the counter. The mare quickly counted them and slid them into the register, moving a plastic tag with “11” printed on it towards him.
“Take this to your table; we’ll bring your food when it’s done,” the mare told him. He nodded to her and levitated the tag alongside him as he went to pick out a spot. He nodded to the pegasus stallion as he passed by. He chose a booth seat near a window, knowing that the other stallion would likely seek him out again.
Sure enough, a minute later the grey pegasus came trotting over. He sat down across from the unicorn, and there was a sort of pause.
Finally, the pegasus broke the silence. “You were following me.”
This caught the unicorn by surprise. “How did you-“
“It’s alright, I know I’m hard to resist!” The pegasus stallion continued with a snicker, waving his hoof dismissively. The unicorn wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved or concerned.
“Of… course.” He couldn’t find it in him to laugh. It was comical, yes, but a little too random to be incredibly amusing.
The stallion sitting across the table cleared his throat and straightened himself out a bit, picking up that his jokes weren’t being received as he’d hoped. He put his hooves together on the table and held a straight face for as long as he could before cracking a more relaxed smile and shaking his head.
“Why, actually, were you following me?” He put out the question that was hovering in the air like a griffon.
The unicorn merely shrugged before replying. “I don’t know. I found you interesting after our… run-in earlier today, and decided that it’d be the best way to figure out how to solve a problem I’ve been having with work.”
He realized his mistake a moment after his words left his mouth, while the pegasus only looked baffled. “Where do you work? How would watching me solve anything?”
The unicorn bit his lip and looked away. “I work from home; I’m an author. I had some writer’s block and needed to find a way to power through it. Inspiration comes from the places you expect the least, but you tend to know it when you see it.”
When he turned back, the pegasus was grinning once again. Not because he was on the verge of laughing at the unicorn’s artistic foolery, but rather because while his gaze was elsewhere he had taken his own plastic number tag and placed it on his head, balancing it right between his ears.
This time, the unicorn couldn’t help but laugh. Something about the situation, how awkward it was turning out to be, and this stallion’s complete disregard for what a normal pony would consider extremely strange struck a chord that had been itching the whole day.
The pegasus raised his hooves in mock exasperation. “There it is! I was wondering if you just couldn’t laugh!” He paused for his own low chuckle, right as the mare from the counter approached balancing a tray of food on her hoof. She set it down and collected the number tags without a word, though the pegasus politely thanked her as she left.
He turned to the stallion across from him when she was gone, somewhat serious now. “So, an author, you say? Not like, Daring Do or anything?”
The unicorn’s laughing had died down to a persistent smirk. “Not yet, unfortunately. Read any adventure books with a hero that looks kinda like you?”
The pegasus had to narrow his eyes in thought for a while. “…I think so? You’re not PenLion, are you?”
It was the unicorn’s turn to share a huge grin. “The one and only.”
The grey-coated stallion made an exaggerated bow, taking the opportunity to chomp into his burger. “I didn’t know we had a star in our midst. Should I roll out the red carpet?” He spoke whilst chewing, making his voice rather stuffed and comical as little particles of food fell out.
The unicorn waited to speak until he’d swallowed his own bite of burger. “Mm, please don’t. There is a reason why I chose to go by PenLion.”
“Can I ask for your real name?” The pegasus raised an eyebrow as he spoke.
The unicorn mulled over this for a few moments, under the guise of sipping his lemonade. When he put the cup down he decided that there would be no harm in it, and said calmly, “Penn Arc. Pleased to meet you.”
The other stallion extended his hoof across the table to shake, and Penn took it. “Stage Fright,” said the grey-coated pegasus.
Penn Arc froze. It took a moment, but when their hooves met a sharp crack seemed to go off in the author’s head, with a dawning light that could only accompany a creative breakthrough.
“That’s it!” He blurted out, loudly enough for Stage Fright to jump a little. “She makes a friend! Someone to help her out and to occupy some down time!”
A slow, understanding smile spread onto Stage Fright’s face. “Silvia, the lone adventurer, making her first friend? That should be interesting.”
“It should indeed!” The unicorn was giddy. This block had stumped him for days and this fantastic, bright stallion before him had simply shattered it. This pony had a story of his own to tell. Penn - and by extension, the character Silvia - could talk with this friend for ages.
He nearly bolted back home, then and there, but he stayed to finish his burger as a courtesy to his newfound friend. He was about to start chomping down on his fries when Stage Fright laughed. “You should probably get going, Penn, unless you really want those. It’s pretty obvious that you want to get moving.”
The unicorn was hesitant. It would be disrespectful to just leave the pegasus there, wouldn’t it?
“You’re coming back at the same time tomorrow,” Stage Fright declared, his grin burning itself into Penn’s memory. “That good enough?”
“I’ll see you then,” the unicorn confirmed.
With a flash of blue-green aura to take the lemonade with him, he was off to write about friendship.
