The Excellent Adventures of Cloud Inkwell

"CLOUD! Get your rear out of bed this instant!"

"No."

"You lazy so-and-so. Come on, you'll miss work. I made you coffee!"

"Give it here." I say, raising my hoof and beckoning for Grapevine to place the mug in my hand.

"It's in the kitchen. Get out now or you'll miss your cab!"

"You can't 'miss' a cab, Grapevine."

'Ugh, just get up!'

"Fine." I reluctantly surrender, heaving my body out of bed. My wings ache like crazy and my mouth is as dry as the carpet. My girlfriend, Grapevine, has gotten dressed for work and is in the living room of our apartment, reading the newspaper. I take a seat at the counter and sleepily sip my coffee. I feel Grapevine come up behind me and ruffle my pink mane before getting milk out of the fridge. My horrible, girly, cotton candy coloured mane. Grapevine dumps my clothes on my lap as I sip away and I place my mug down, slipping into my pure cotton suit that conceals my blank flank. I feel so sleepy now, with the warmth of the coffee and the suit combined. My eyelids begin to slip when suddenly Grapevine shouts in my ear

"Cloud! You're going to miss work!"

` "How late is it?" I ask frantically.

"Eight-oh-five!" Grapevine replies. I swear and run into my room, grabbing my briefcase, using the tips of my wings to hang onto the handle. Before I can run out the door, Grapevine halts me and manically brushes my mane with a comb. She moves down to my tail and once her TSA-esque pat down is done, I race out the door.

As I rush out of the building, I'm shocked to see my best friend and frequent cab-puller, Steam Bolt. Usually I'm early, and he always arrives in front of my building at 7:30 to take me to work. By now, I should be at work, and he should have picked up somepony else.

"Steam, how come you're here?" I ask. Steam raises an eyebrow at me and says

"How come you weren't thirty minutes ago?"

"I slept in. You didn't have to wait for me, if that's what you're doing." I say.

"Well I have. Now get in, you're late for work." Steam says, lightly tapping the cab with his back hoof.

"Thanks, buddy." I say, jumping onto the seat of the taxi. I lay my briefcase down on the seat beside me as Steam began pulling the cab off of the fluffy pavement and into the non-existent road. You see, in Las Pegasus we have no roads, because all our vehicles are made to float on air, so their's no need to waste all that cloud on roads when there's no need to. And so, I like to look down onto the city of Applewood, Los Alicornes. You can't see much since we're so high up, just the buildings as well as a bit of the Applewood sign. I used to think someday I'd be an Applewood agent, promoting budding actors left and right. I thought I'd get to meet the big time actor Midnight Twinkle, best known for her role as Bucky's girlfriend in the Buck to the Future movie series. Boy, is she a looker.

Thirty minutes later, we're outside my office building and I'm half an hour late. I thank Steam and grab my briefcase between my wingtips, racing through the double doors into the lobby of 'Quilltip Inc.'. It's so quiet after Eight. Everypony else is working, and here I am standing like an idiot in an almost empty room, later than a pregnant mare's-- uh, nevermind. I enter through a door that leads to the staircase to my floor. I work for the moderately popular astrology magazine 'Twinkle', which means I occasionally interview astrologists. Despite the obvious night and darkness themes that it holds, we have yet to be important enough to interview Her Majesty Luna. We were lucky enough to have the former unicorn Twilight Sparkle, in her pre-princess days, send us a letter detailing her experience with the Ursa Minor. That issue got a lot of attention since Miss Sparkle, although not yet royalty, had saved Equestria from eternal night. As I get to the second floor, I stop climbing the steps and go through another door that enters the Twinkle lobby. Each floor is for a different magazine, and since Twinkle is the least popular magazine, we're on the first floor -- of the seven floors solely for different magazines and not including the lobby -- and Wonder Weekly: The Official Wonderbolts Magazine is on the seventh, being wildly popular all around Neighvada. I carefully tiptoe to the conference room and push the door open ever so slightly. The head of Twinkle, Sapphire Sky, looks over at me and furrows her brow.

"Well, well, well. I'm glad you finally decided to join us, Inkwell. Now, could you kindly sit down in the currently empty seat?" she says, pointing her left hoof towards a chair next to a grey and green stallion. I feel like a naughty school colt being scolded for coming in late, the way Sapphire talks to me. I slink over to my chair as Sapphire begins to say

"Now, since Mr. Inkwell is late and has missed a considerable amount of our meeting, we shall revise our topic today. As most of you know, here at Twinkle we take our appearance very seriously. And so, we are deciding on a new colour scheme and logo. Some people have suggested a darker, navy blue for the page colours, and change the text to white to look like stars against the night sky. Many of the group liked this idea, but then Stormy Seas said we should make it silver, gold and navy, representing the colour of the sun, moon and sky. Any other ideas?" She readies her hoof to add onto the list of ideas, waiting for another suggestion. Her red marker pen, attached to a black hoof band, is so frequently used that the writing on the whiteboard is so faint you can barely read it. Hoof bands, for those who have the privilege of having telekinesis, are black bracelets that you put around your hoof and can attach different pens and pencils to. It was first invented by earth pony Quick Quill for non-unicorns to use. It was mass-produced recently to aid those who frequently write and avoid the spreading of germs by halting the use of mouths to write. I can't count the times I've rejected the offer to be lent a pen when I'm missing one because the spit puts me off. The green and grey stallion beside me raises his hoof and Sapphire nods in his direction.

"Why don't we have our colour scheme be rainbow? Space has a multitude of beautiful colours." he says. The other stallions in the room snigger and some of them mouth "nerd". I nervously play along and giggle too. The grey stallion looks slightly dejected and his ears flap against the sides of his head. Sapphire looks as if she'd like to defend him but she reluctantly says

"I'm afraid that that particular idea is already taken by another Quilltip Inc. magazine. That being the wildly popular LGBTQA magazine."

"Speaking of, Mrs Sapphire," one of the many stallions in the group says, smirking. "I believe that my colleague, Cloud Inkwell, doesn't belong in Twinkle. He doesn't seem to have much interest or experience in the subject of Twinkle. Don't you think, giving his, uh, certain attributes, he would be slightly happier in the 'LGBT Weekly' department?" At these words, the room was filled with mean laughter from the males and mostly disapproving looks from the mares. Sapphire smacked her hoof loudly on the meeting table and everyone piped down.

"I shall not have defamation of other colleagues in my department. If you wish to say such things about others kindly refrain from doing it under my supervision." Sapphire snaps. She says everything so fast it takes everyone a few moments to process. This sort of thing happens frequently so I'm not bothered too much by it. When they simply remark that I look girly then I just ignore them or shoot a snarky remark back without much heartache. But sometimes things get personal. Everyone here knows I have a girlfriend, and I've always wanted a girlfriend. But they still like to pretend I'm lying, even when they've seen me with her. All the guys, and a couple mares, like to tease me. Sometimes it's referring to my sexuality and sometimes to the credibility of my being a stallion. I don't like to talk about it. Things like this, just teasing, is fairly normal. It doesn't really hurt me too much. It's only when their accusations get graphic that I begin to heat up. I start blushing from the language they use and want to physically hurt them, but lucky for me I have considerably decent willpower and I have yet to give anyone a black eye.

An hour later, we all leave the meeting room for a snack break and gather in the general break room, where all the employees hang out to relax and chat. I go over to the coffee jug to get myself a mug. I need that extra caffein buzz to get me through the day. Coffee Cream, a 'Monthly Makes' -- the semi-popular cooking and craft magazine -- writer, stands behind me, waiting to get his own mug. He insists on wearing a light brown and white scarf even inside. The guys all call him 'Super Hipster' or variations of that. He wears black glasses with plastic lenses -- he is visually impaired, but so marginally that he wears contacts for the actual sight aiding and wears the thick lenses for appearance -- and interests include making snide remarks about your fashion sense. Despite his clearly flamboyant and unconventional stallion behaviour, he is rarely teased for acting camp. He gets to be called shocking, profound names like "Hipster" and "Narcissist". If you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic. I guess it's because he at least looks like a stallion, unlike yours' truly. But enough about me, and more about Coffee Cream. You're probably wondering why I'm mentioning him.

"Hurry the heck up, Inkwell." he says, shoving me slightly. I flick my pastel pink tail in his direction, taking a deliberately long time now to pour my coffee. Coffee Cream rolls his eyes and ostentatiously huffs. I finally have to leave the coffee jug for Coffee Cream once my mug is filled to the brim. Holding the mug in my right hoof, I trot over to one of the sofas and take a seat, sipping the silky, delicious drink. Yeah, I REALLY love coffee. I mean, I love coffee as in the drink, not as in the pretentious pegasus prissily pouring coffee in the corner. He whips his bright vanilla yellow mane like a model strutting down a highway as he trots over to the lounge area too. He takes a seat next to me and waits to be acknowledged by somepony. He places his mug on the coffee table in front of us and crosses his forelegs daintily. I still don't understand how he doesn't have the same insults that are thrown at me thrown at him with this camp, diva-esque behaviour. He adjusts his fake glasses and flips his mane again. Then he looks over at me, raising an eyebrow. I've been glaring at him, admittedly envious that he could get away with such behaviour.

"What are you looking at?" he says. I simply reply

"Nothing interesting," hoping to seem as if he was the one being weird, to which one of the other stallions in the room jumps in and says

"Wow, you know you messed up if even queermo Inkwell doesn't think you look good."

"As if I'd take fashion advice from this oddball." Coffee says, literally sticking his nose in the air. The other stallion laughs and trots off. I glare at Coffee Cream distastefully and continue to drink the coffee that isn't being judgemental. I'm surprised when Coffee leans in closer to me and whispers

"Cloud, look. I don't want to be mean to you. I think it's totally phobic of these dudes to talk to you like I hear they do, but I gotta join in to stop them from doing it to me." I glare at him even harder and whisper back

"Well too bad. Either you join them or you fight them. I don't want your pity."

"Cloud, I really do feel bad for you. Celestia knows what they'd do to me if I didn't act like one of them. If you did the same you'd be way more popular." Coffee whispers in reply. I turn away from him and reply before getting up off the sofa,

"I'm not going to stoop to their low, low standards of social interaction. Go ahead and be a pandering pansy, I'm standing my ground." With that I put my now empty mug on the coffee table and walk off to the toilets. I enter one of the stalls, even though I don't need the toilet. But after a stressful morning I just need some chill time, something that even the room designated for relaxation can't bring me. I stay as far away as possible from the slightly filthy floor toilet, not daring to look, even though the flushing system gets rid of all the waste. I hear the door open and freeze. Did someone follow me in here?

"Inkwell? Inkwell? Look, I'm sorry!" comes the distinct voice of Coffee Cream.

"Oh my Celestia, Coffee! You don't just follow a guy into the toilets!" I gasp, realising what he's done.

"Look, I'm sorry I upset you! I just want don't want to be teased!"

"That's fine, Coffee. But you can't follow a dude into the bathroom! Do you know the sorts of looks you'll get?" I snap.

"I don't care, as long as I go to the game every Saturday nobody will bully me."

"Yeah right! I could strut around with full Hoofball gear on, shouting 'GO COLTS!', eating chilli peppers without screaming in pain and punching everyone in sight and they'd still make fun of me." I retort.

"Look," Coffee says, clearly exasperated, "Could you PLEASE come out of there? It's weird talking to a bathroom stall." I finally submit and open the stall door. I walk out and go towards the water trough to wash my hooves. Coffee Cream looks relieved to have gotten through to me.

"So, you forgive me?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess." I say, not too interested and rather annoyed to have been interrupted in my alone time.

"Good. I hope we can be friends, Cloud." Coffee says. I shrug and say

"Maybe. Just so long as you quit joining in on the teasing." I reply.

"Well, it's kind of detrimental to my popularity, but I suppose it's a promise." he says. I notice the oddly soft and quiet tone he's suddenly taken on. A little unsure, I dry my hooves and smile slightly at him.

"Thanks, dude." I say appreciatively. I finish drying my hooves and put the paper towel in the trash can. Coffee Cream smiles back. I'm about to prevent an awkward silence when something infinitely more awkward happens. Swiftly and instantaneously, Coffee kisses me on the cheek and trots out of the bathroom. I stand stock still, shellshocked by the sudden intimacy. I feel sick, stunned and angry all at once. This was incredibly unexpected, and I'm not sure I particularly like it. No, I'm certain I don't like it. I begin to plot a cunning plan to pin all the teasing and bullying on him by telling everypony, but my conscience as well as a realisation that nopony would believe me (or maybe they WOULD but they'd think I liked it, or they'd exaggerate it into something else) stops me from doing so. I have no idea what he was thinking, or what would make him think that was acceptable. To be frank, this isn't the first time something like this has happened. But when it happened the first time it wasn't a colleague of mine and they didn't realise I was a guy. Nonetheless, both times it was rather unpleasant on my part. After a minute of standing still as a block of ice, I walk out of the bathroom gingerly, as if I have just been beaten up and can barely walk. I don't pay attention to anypony, I just stare straight ahead and walk back to the meeting room.

When I get home a few hours later, I'm still slightly stunned. I always thought that Coffee Cream may not act the most conventionally like a stallion, but I never thought he actually swung that way. Grapevine, by now, has returned to her own apartment nearer uptown, but she left me a note before she left. I read it before settling down on the sofa to listen to the radio. It reads:

Dear Cloudie,

I left the last of the cookies in the pantry. Make sure you finish them soon or they'll go stale!

Love, Grapie.

I realise how hungry I am, as I missed lunch to catch up on work, and I take the cookies out. As I begin to snack on them I rub my left cheek for the millionth time that day, as if the constant rubbing still hasn't rubbed away the few spots of saliva from my encounter with Coffee. I wet my hooves and scrub it again, desperate to get the kiss off. I realise it's not something physical, it's something mental that's bugging me, but even if I cracked open my skull and scrubbed my brain the irritation will not go away too soon. I have always been straighter than a steel pole, so it's surely understandable why this bugs me so much, right? It's not like I disapprove of those kinds of ponies, it's just...it's just...

Celestia, I really need a coffee.