Say It Ain't So

Chapter Two: In The Garage

In the garage, I feel safe.

No one cares about my ways…

I unlock the door to my apartment, sliding my saddlebags off as I do. After a long day of work, it’s nice to be back in my cozy little apartment. It’s not that big or fancy, but its been my home for the past six years, and its got all the little personal touches that make it feel like it’s yours.

Closing the door behind me, I carefully hang up my saddlebags, then trot the short distance into the living room, pausing for a second to take things in. It’s small, but it has everything I need to feel at home. Several posters adorn the wall, most of them are for horror movies that I absolutely love, like The Northern Incident and Black Creek (that one’s even signed by the director, Twisted Mind), one or two are from local venues, and there’s a few Wonderbolts memorabilia as well (those are my roommates). The ridiculously comfy couch takes up most of the room. Beside it, our home projector system sits neatly tucked away, next to our bookshelf full of film canisters. We’ve got a pretty modest collection, most of them are horror movies (courtesy of yours truly), but there’s also a good mix of action, comedy, drama, and even a romance or two. Our more ‘adult’ films are tucked neatly away at the bottom, out of view (Those are also my roommates…...mostly).

But my favourite part of the room sits against the wall directly across from the couch: our Hi-Fi System. I saved my paycheques for over a month and bought it as an early birthday present for myself a few months ago, and it’s been the best purchase I’ve ever made. Made from polished oak, it stands proudly against the wall. Its twin speakers with gold-brushed screens are loud enough to rattle the window panes, and the subwoofer that sits at the bottom can produce bass that’s loud enough to shake the floor (incidentally, while the volume can go up to eleven, we have a rule about not putting it over eight, mostly so that we don’t get kicked out by our neighbours). The turntable is nice and heavy, and its got an auto-load and auto-return feature, but the best part about it is the head. It’s made from a heavy metal, so it can play virtually any record without skating or skipping, no matter how bad of shape the record is in, and the needle is made out a finely-tuned crystal that’s imported from the Crystal Empire, and it makes everything sound AMAZING. Seriously, it sounds like the band is playing right in our living room!

Basically, it’s my baby and I love it.

I head over to the cabinet beside the stereo. When you work all day in a loud and noisy metal shop, you get used to having some noise at all times, and it makes total silence really annoying and unbearable. I pull out the drawer, and flip through my carefully and neatly organized records, looking for just the right sound to put on. Geezer? No, that’s a bit loud for right now. Literally Dragons? Maybe, maybe not. Coltplay? Ehh, a little too melodramatic after today. Stereohead? Hmm, fairly quiet, a little melancholy but not overly so...yeah. That’ll do pig, that’ll do.

Carefully lifting the glass dust cover, I gently set the record into the load position. Closing the cover, I check to make sure the settings are right and the volume isn’t too loud, and the pull and release the load switch. The machine makes a soft whirring noise as it starts up, and the amber lights on the front begin to glow softly. The record drops onto the spinning turntable with a gentle plop, and the tone arm moves and lowers itself gently into place, finding the groove easily. After a few seconds of silence, gentle guitar strumming begins to play softly.

Satisfied, I turn and head to the kitchen to get a snack. Passing by our small table, I’m trying to decide on whether I want a little bowl of oats or just a simple apple when something catches my eye. I turn back to the table, and notice a pair of saddlebags and a conductor's hat, both covered in a light layer of coal dust, which can only mean…

“Mel!” I hear a jovial voice cry out. I snap my head up, and see a peridot green pegasus stallion with a short-cropped dark green mane with streaks of dark blue running through it standing in the entryway to the hallway. I notice that his fur appears to be slightly damp. The stallion trots over to me and embraces me in a tight hug.

“I didn’t hear you come in! Sorry about the water, I just got out of the shower, wanted to get the stink of that coal dust off me.” This is Steam Whistle, my roommate. He’s part of the freight train service that runs deliveries all over Equestria. I’ve known him since high school, he’s always been a really chill and cool pony to hang out with. When I was looking for an apartment of my own here in Ponyville, he offered to split the rent on this place, since he only stays in Ponyville in between freight runs, so it works out for me. I mean, I do enjoy his company when he’s here, but it’s nice to have the place to myself for the most part.

“How you’ve been, buddy? You just getting off work?” Steam asks, breaking the hug.

“Yeah, you know, same old, same old.” I reply, heading towards the counter.

“Cool, cool. Hey, can you toss me an apple? I’m starving.” he says, taking a seat at the table and shaking out his mane.

I grab two apples from the bowl on the counter, tossing one to him, before also taking a seat at the table. “So how was Fillydelphia?”

“S’pretty boring, as usual.” he says, taking a giant bite out of his apple “Tha’ train riesh bashk wash a killeh. Oh!” he suddenly perked up, swallowing “That reminds me, I got us some presents while I was there.”

“Did you now?” I replied dryly, wiping my own apple off on my chest before taking a bite.

“Uh-huh” Steam replies before flipping open the top of his saddlebag and reaching in. I watch a bit of coal dust flutter off the top of bag while Steam noses around inside.

“Some herbal refreshments for me…” Steam says before taking out a small plastic bag filled with green herbs. Steam has always been a recreational user of Equestria’s, ahem, “herbal refreshments”, but it’s never bothered me. I don’t really use it, I do it like maybe once a month.

...Well, maybe like once or twice a month...

...Three times at most...

..Maybe four...

Shut up.

“And,” Steam continues, reaching back into the bag “Some high-class literature for you.” He pulls out a magazine, and with a flick of his head tosses across the table to me “You’re welcome.”

I swallow my apple and look down at the cover. Judging by the seductively posed stallion, the promise of an article about “10 different ways to please your stallion using whipped cream!” and the fact that the magazine is called Stallion’s Secret, I highly doubt that there’s articles about foreign affairs and economic downsizing inside.

“Gee, thanks.” I reply sarcastically, causing Steam to chuckle.

“You can act all high and mighty, but you and I both know you’re not going to find anything like that in town.” Well, he is right about that. Even though Ponyville has had a huge economic and population boom since Twilight Sparkle became a princess and had a magic crystal castle rise out of the ground from a magical tree (don’t ask), it’s still surprisingly hard to find any decent gay porn in town. Go figure.

“Thanks Steam. I mean it this time.” I say with a smile.

“Hey buddy, no problem. You know I got your back.” He says, waving me off “So anyways, how’s Ponyville been? Anything new happen at the shop?”

“Eh, not really” I reply, watching as Steam takes some rolling papers and a lighter out of his saddle bag “I’ve had a few orders here and there, mostly local guys needing their shoes repaired. I did a couple custom orders for some out-of-towners, but really we’ve mostly just been getting ready for the winter demand.”

“I feel you on that one, bud.” Steam replies, taking some of the herbs out of their bag “Fillydelphia felt like winter was already there. Speaking of, get this: So when we get to Filly, Manny realizes he needs to get his shoes repaired, right? So he goes to one of those ‘One Hour’ places, they get the shoes repaired and fitted on him and tell him he’s all good to go, the shoes have been properly fit, blah blah blah. Well, couple hours later, we were pulling cargo out of the train, and we were running because we were behind schedule, right? Well, guess what happens while Manny is running one of those cargo containers off the train?”

“He threw a shoe?”

“He threw a shoe. Right into Wrought Iron’s face. Poor guy has a black eye now. Manny was pissed.” Steam said while arranging the herbs into a neat line on the paper.

I roll my eyes and scoff. “Typical. All those ‘One Hour’ places are the same. They think that any old Joe Schmoe can come in off the the street, take a two day course on shoemaking, and then go out and slap a pair of cheaply made shoes on a pony in ten seconds flat and send them out the door. And you can’t, you just can’t. Shoes need time and effort to make, and they need to be properly made and adjusted for the pony. You can’t just quickly fit them on, either. You need to make absolutely sure they’re properly lined up and snug against your hoof without being too tight, and you have to test them. What feels comfortable while standing around in a store might not feel comfortable while plowing through fields or running cargo. It’s like my dad always says, if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.” I finish, taking a breath after my mini rant and having another bite of my apple.

“You’re preaching to the choir, buddy.” Steam says, beginning the arduous task of rolling the papers. I still don’t know how he manages to do that so precisely and evenly without magic “Anyways, he went back and got it fixed, but he wants to have them redone since he doesn’t trust that place. Is he cool to come in next week and have you take a look?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just let me know when he’s coming so I can make sure all the windows are open.” Manual Labour is a nice enough pony, but dear Celestia does his mane ever stink! I don’t know why he loves the dreadlock look so much, but every time he comes by the shop I have to air out the workroom for about a week.

“Dude, you think it’s bad having him in your shop? Try working with the guy and having to bunk with him.” Steams scoffs, before licking the edge of the paper and rolling it over, creating a tidy little joint “I don’t know why the ladies find him so attractive.” He goes to light the joint but pauses, a sly smirk sliding up his face “Speaking of the ladies, yours truly found a little lady action in the city of Fillydelphia.”

“Oh this oughta be good.” I smirk back, resting my head on my hoof and finishing off my apple.

“Ya-huh.” Steam takes a moment to light his joint and take a puff before continuing “So there I was, at some lame bar in Filly, drinking by myself like a loser, when all of a sudden this mare is sliding up next to me. And Mel, this filly was a complete knock-out. Beautiful, fire-red hair all done up, these amber eyes that could light up a room, just enough make-up on so that she looked like she just stepped out of a palace, and these tight, firm flanks that you could bounce a bit off of, I kid you not.”

“Sounds like a real goddess” I reply, resting both my hooves under my chin.

“You better believe it, buddy. So anyways, I’m sitting there like an idiot, wondering why this gift from above is talking to me, when she asks “Are you a body-builder?” So then I play it cool, right? I’m like “Naw, baby. I’m no body-builder”, and she’s like “Really? Well, how’d you get all those muscles then?” and I say “I’m a conductor, baby. I shovel coal all day, getting nice and hot and sweaty.” And then she like “Ooh, that sounds like a hard job. I bet you work long hours without any company.” And so I was like “Yeah I do. It’s tough out there sometimes.” And she was all “Well, you know, I’ve always loved trains. Think you could take me for a train ride sometime?” And then she winked at me, the little vixen. So then I said “Well, you know baby, there’s a midnight train leaving tonight not that far from here. What say you and I get out of here and...go catch it?”. And lets just say that the midnight train made its delivery on time that night.” Steam finishes with a chuckle, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Wow Steam, you better be careful. With great power like that comes great responsibility” I deadpan, tossing my apple core into the trash can.

“What can I say?” he replies, taking another puff “Ladies can’t resist the conductor’s bod.” Well, he’s got a point. Shoveling coal all day has given Steam quite the toned body. It’s just as toned as Big Mac’s, and his short-cropped mane is attractive in rugged way. Coupled with his baby-blue eyes, Steam Whistle is quite the handsome stallion.

I just wish somepony would tell him that the goatee he’s had for a year and a half really doesn’t suit him.

“So what about you, Mel?” Steam says, drawing my attention back to him “Have you been having throngs of gentlestallion callers in here while I’ve been gone?”

I chuckle. “Oh yes. Oodles of them. It’s been wall-to-wall stallion meat in here since you left.”

Steam blows out smoke with a laugh. “And I’ll bet that Big Macintosh was one of those ‘oodles of stallion meat’ too, right?”

I feel my smile falter. “Y-Yeah…”

Steam looks at me, and his smile vanishes. “Dude, I’m sorry. I was just messing around. You know that, right?”

I scuff my hoof across the table. “Yeah it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” I can feel my good mood from earlier disappearing.

Steam sets down his joint and sits up straight, looking me dead in the eyes. “Dude, real talk for a second? Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

I look back at him. “Steam, come on…”

“No dude, I’m being serious here.” He says with insistence “Why not?”

I roll my eyes. “Steam, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten or not, but he has a girlfriend. And they’ve been going out for a while now.” Longer than I’d like to admit “So what does it matter? It’s not like he’s going to suddenly turn gay and dump his girlfriend…”

Steam cuts me off with a wave of his hoof “Dude, I know. I’m not stupid. I know he’s not gay and has a girlfriend and isn’t going to come in and sweep you off your hooves. I get that. But you should at least tell him so that he knows. And so that at least you could get it off your chest. It can’t be good for your mental state to always be keeping it in and hiding away this part of you. I’m just worried about you, Mel.”

The concern in his eyes tells me that he’s being genuine about this. I sigh and look down. “I appreciate it, Steam. And I know, it’s not good for me to torment myself with this. It’s just…” I pause, figuring out how to explain it “It’s just that, Mac and I have been friends since we were colts, you know? He’s always been there for me, heck he was one of the first people I came out to, after my parents. He’s my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine not having him around. And I just feel that...If I do tell him, I feel like things would change between us. Like, he wouldn’t stop being my friend or anything, Mac’s not like that, but I just feel he would see me differently somehow. Like our dynamic would change. Especially now that he’s with Cheerilee, I just feel that it would be really awkward for them if I did that. Mac’s one of my closest friends, I just… I can’t risk losing one of the best friendships I’ve ever had for my own stupid reasons…”

I feel a hoof take hold of my own. “Mel, look at me.” I look up to find Steam staring intently at me “First of all, your reasons are not stupid, okay? You obviously have strong feelings for this guy, so don’t pretend like they don’t matter. And secondly, you need to think about yourself. Nopony’s opinions and feelings matter more than your own. I know it sounds selfish and conceited, but it’s true. Don’t let yourself feel miserable and alone because you’re worried about someone else’s feelings. Your feelings matter just as much as Big Mac’s, or Cheerilee’s, or mine, or anypony else’s. And I get that you don’t want to make things weird or awkward for Big Mac, and that’s really sweet and commendable of you, but you shouldn’t do it at the expense of your own happiness.”

I feel myself blushing from how personal this conversation is getting. “Steam…”

“I’m serious, Mel. I care about you, and you deserve to be happy too. I know it’d be hard to tell him and you’d be worried about how things might turn out afterwards, but I honestly believe it would be good for you. Would you at least think about it? If not for me, then for yourself?”

I look into his eyes and find I can’t bring myself to say no. “Okay, Steam. I’ll think about it, alright?” I look down again and confirm that my face still feels like a tomato.

Steam smiles. “That’s all I can ask for. You’re my buddy, and I want you to be happy. And Mel?”

I look back up and I’m taken aback by how intently he’s staring at me.

“I just want you to know…”

He wraps both his hooves around mine and leans in even closer.

“If I was gay, I would totally bang you right here, right now, on this kitchen table.”

Silence fills the kitchen.

We both stare at each other with straight faces for about five seconds before we simultaneously burst into laughter.

“Oh Steam…” I say through giggles, wiping a tear away from my eye “Thanks for that. I really needed some cheering up today.”

Steams gives me a couple pats on the back. “Of course, buddy. You know I’m always here for you.” He takes another puff of his joint and then considers it

for a moment, before offering it to me. “You want some of this, bud?”

I hesitate for a second, and then give in. “Sure, why not?”.

Steam passes me it before sitting up and cracking his back. “So, any plans for the weekend?”

I take a puff of the joint, letting the harsh but pleasant burning sensation fill my lungs for a few moments before slowly letting it back out. “It’s supposed to be pretty nice tomorrow, I think I might go to the market, do some shopping, and then maybe head to the park afterwards.” I pass the joint back to him “You?”

“I dunno, I have to go by the station and pick up some paperwork. After that? I think I might just come back here, space out and watch a movie or something. I’m kinda in a relaxing mood, you feel me?” I nod in agreement as he takes another puff and lets it out with a yawn. “Anyways, I think I’m going to head to bed, I’m pretty beat after today. You want the rest of this?”

“Sure.” I say, taking the little nub of a joint from him. He stands up, cracking his back and rolling his shoulders as he does, before heading to the hallway. “I’ll see tomorrow. And Mel?”

I look over and see him looking back at me. “I was being serious back there. Think about telling him, okay?”

I feel my face flush again. “O-Okay, Steam.”

He smiles, satisfied, before heading into the hallway. “Goodnight, Mel”

“Night, Steam” I watch him disappear into the hallway and hear his bedroom door close a few seconds later. I take the last puff of the joint, holding it in for a few seconds again, before slowly letting it out through my nostrils and snubbing out the little stub.

I think back to what he said. Is it really worth it to tell Mac how I feel about him? I mean, I do really like him. And I’m sure he would be okay with it. Oh, but what if it makes things weird between us? What if it makes things weird between me and Cheerilee? Or worse, what if it makes things weird between Mac and Cheerilee? Oh, this would be so much easier if he was still single! I just...I really don’t want to lose him as a friend. But Steam’s right, I can’t keep doing this to myself. I mean, when I came out to parents, nothing changed between us, right? Everything was the same, the world kept on spinning. So maybe if I tell Mac, things will still be the same afterwards? Oh hay, I just wish I had some way of knowing…

My internal debate keeps on for a little while longer, before I feel my thoughts start to get hazy as the joint kicks in. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the Stallion’s Secret magazine still sitting on the table. I pull it closer to me to get a better look at the cover.

The stallion is obviously some sort of model, with his perfectly fit and toned body with nary an ounce of fat out of place, his smokey-purple eyes seemingly staring right through the magazine at me, and his smoldering look saying “Oh yes, I know you like what you see.” He’s lying on some sort of silk blanket, with his head propped up on his hoof as if his body is saying “Come hither”.

I wonder if you’ve ever been attracted to somepony and couldn’t tell them. I stare at the stallion again, and then picture Big Mac in the same pose, only instead of on a silk blanket in some photo studio, he’s lying on some hay in a barn. I try to imagine what he’d be saying.

“Why hello there, Mel. Didn’t here ya come in. Would like to join me on this here hay and feed me some grapes, and then engage in the sex?”

The thought of Mac making the same smoldering look as the stallion on the cover and saything those things in that southern accent of his causes me to burst into uncontrollable giggles.

Oh man, I forgot Steam gets the strong stuff whenever he’s in Filly.

I push the magazine away and stand from the table on wobbly legs. I should probably turn in early. I head to fridge, hearing the Stereohead record I had forgotten about end and the Hi-Fi’s needle returning as the machine shuts down automatically, and look inside, scrounging for some bedtime snacks. I take a plate of cold pizza (Score!) and a can of Colt 45 out and place them gently on my back.

I’ll worry about Big Mac and Cheerilee and grapes and sexy stallions tomorrow. I head towards the hallway, but stop halfway through, and look back at the table. I turn back and grab the magazine before continuing on to my bedroom.

Hey, everypony has needs.