Chapters Say It Ain’t So
Chapter One: My Name Is Jonas
The workers are going home…
The workers are going home…
My name is Caramel.
Most of my friends call me Mel. Well, some of them do. Not all of them. Like, one or two do.
Anyways.
I guess I should talk about myself for a bit. I’m a tan and brown earth stallion, living in the small but quirky town of Ponyville, and I’m just clocking out at my job here at Clydesdale’s Tack & Shoe. We sell horseshoes and other such equipment for hard labour ponies. Well I mean, I don’t sell the shoes, I just make them. I’m pretty good at it, I guess. I’ve always had knack for metalworking. That’s how I got my cutie mark. I fixed my own pair of horseshoes when I was just foal, and then BAM, there was my cutie mark! When people first meet me, for some reason they assume my cutie mark means I’m really lucky. Old superstitions, I guess. I’d hardly say I’m lucky…
B-But enough about that! What else is there about me? Well, I’m really into horror movies, especially the really scary ones. Most nights I like to get all curled up on the couch and get spooked watching a film about some outrageous beast terrorizing a small town. Not that that doesn’t happen ALREADY here in Ponyville, but whatever. I’m also pretty into indie rock. I like to go to the venues here in town and check out some of the local bands. They’re not always that good, but I don’t mind too much.
Um, what else? Oh! I’m a pretty big fan of the outdoors. Even though I tend to stay inside more often than not, I do still enjoy going out to the parks and the lake on the weekend. There’s lots of nice atmosphere there. I also like to participate in the Running of the Leaves every year, which, judging by all the colored leaves I’m noticing on the trees as I walk home, should be soon. I mean, I’m not really athletic or anything, but it’s fun to do, and you get a great sense of community. Plus, the Running of the Leaves usually coincides with Cider Season, which leads me to my other favourite activity, getting drunk with my friends. I’m not a huge drinker, but nothing sets a friendly atmosphere like a couple of drinks. The bars in town are pretty okay (except for the one owned by Vinyl Scratch, but even that one would be alright if she’d at least play something other than dubstep every once in awhile), but honestly it’s more fun to drink with my buddies at one of our houses. Especially at Sweet Apple Acres! Not only do they have some of the best stock (brewed in-house, of course), but drinking with my best bud Big Mac is one of my favourite activities. He’s an awesome guy and great to talk to any time, but boy, when he starts drinking, you can’t get him to shut up! Not that you’d want him to, because he tells some of the funniest stories when he’s hammered. Honestly, for such a quiet pony, he sure has a lot to say when he’s had some cider! Oh man, he’s a riot, that Big Mac.
Oh. Yeah.
Big Mac.
I guess we should talk about him, shouldn’t we?
W-Well, if I’m going to talk about Big Mac, I might as well get it out of the way to start things off. I’m gay. Not like I’ve ever been ashamed of it or anything. I was never one of those self-loathing, angsty gay teenagers that had a big, overdramatic coming out where my family disowned me and my mother blamed herself and my father hated the thought of having a gay son and I had to go live on the streets, sobbing in some dark alleyway before some big muscular beefcake stud came and saved me from the cruel, evil world and I was instantly better and then we made out or something.
…I may have read a few stories like that in high school. What? Just because I’m not filled with self-loathing doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to read about unrealistic and outlandishly big-muscled stallions saving the helpless angsty reject and making everything better and then mounting them with their huge…
Ahem. I’m getting off track.
Anyways, yeah. I’ve never really had an issue with my sexuality. I came to terms with it pretty early on, and I told my parents once I was comfortable, and they were totally cool and accepting of it, and life just sort of went on as normal. But, ah, it’s just hard sometimes, being gay in this town, you know?
N-Not because any of the ponies here are unaccepting of it or anything! Everypony in town is completely cool about it! In fact, most ponies I’ve met are fine with it. I’ve only ever met one or two ponies that seemed to turn their nose up about it, and honestly, who cares what they think?
But it’s just hard sometimes because, well, statistically speaking, Ponyville has a real gender imbalance when it comes to stallions. I mean, overall in Equestria there’s more mares than stallions, yes, but it’s really noticeable in Ponyville. There’s about five mares for every one stallion, so there’s not a whole lot of the proverbial fish in the ocean here. And really, only a part of the romantically-single stallions are likely to be gay or bisexual. And it’s not that easy to tell. Even though everyone is town is cool with each other’s sexualities, it’s not really talked about. It’s one of those “elephant in the room, don’t ask don’t tell” kinds of situations, you know? Like, everyone knows that Bon-Bon and Lyra are more than just “best friends”, but no one in town talks about it, and neither do they, it’s just one of those things that everybody just sort of accepts. I’m sure if I just asked a stallion I was interested in if they were gay or not, they’d tell me, but really, I’m not exactly keen on just asking somepony like that. Besides, there’s no one in town that I’m really attracted to, anyways.
Well, almost no one.
I guess I can’t put it off anymore, can I?
Okay, so I may have the teensiest, tinniest , itty-bitty crush on Big Mac. B-But that’s all it is, just a crush! Honestly! I mean, he’s been my best friend since we were colts, so I’ve known him practically my whole life, so it’s just natural that I might start developing feelings for him. And I mean, who wouldn’t? He may seem like just a quiet loner when you first meet him, but once you get to know him he’s so much more than that. He’s one of the kindest, gentlest souls I’ve ever known. He’s charming and sweet, he holds almost no ill-will towards anyone, and he’s smart. You wouldn’t know it just by looking at him, but he’s probably one of the smartest ponies I know. He doesn’t say much in day-to-day conversations (again, unless he’s been drinking), but when you sit down and have an honest conversation with him, it’s easy to see that he’s way more than the “simple farmpony” most outsiders see him as. He knows how to carry some of the most intelligent conversations I’ve ever had, and you take everything he says to heart. He’s also one of the most loyal and caring stallions you could ask for. He’d never hurt a fly, but if you mess with or disrespect his family or his friends, you’d better watch out.
Also, he’s hot. Dear Celestia, is he ever hot. The farm life has definitely suited him. He’s got one of the most toned, rocking bodies I’ve ever seen. His muscles are nice and firm, very noticeable, but not overly so like Bulk Biceps (seriously, I don’t know how that pony was allowed to compete in the Equestria Games, because I’m pretty sure he’s on some performance-enhancing drugs). His orange mane is long and shaggy, but in a cute way. His eyes are the most piercing shade of green, you really feel them when he looks at you, and between him and Applejack, I’m pretty sure the Apple family shares the Element of Adorable Freckles. And that red coat really shows off those muscular legs and flank. That’s years of apple-bucking for you. There’s a reason I always chose to plant the grass seeds every Winter Wrap Up, even though I somehow always manage to lose them (those things are slippery bastards), and that’s because Mac is the one who plows the fields, which mean that the seed planter has to walk behind him, which means I get to look at that delicious flank all day. Eye candy doesn’t even begin to describe it.
...S-So as you can see, there’s lots of reason to be attracted to Big Mac, so can you really blame me for finding him attractive? B-But that’s all it is! Just a little crush, and nothing else. Honest.
…
A-And even if I was in love with him, w-which I’m not, it doesn’t matter anyways, because Mac is 100% straight.
…Well, there was that time he walked through town wearing his grandmother’s girdle...
...And the time he dressed in drag and entered the Sisterhooves Social with Applebloom…
…
Okay, so he’s like 80% straight. But that’s still a high percentage of straightness! And besides, he has a marefriend, so it’s not like it matters anyways.
N-Not that I’m saying there’s anything wrong with that! There isn’t! Miss Cheerilee is a nice enough pony. I mean, I’ve only talked to her a couple times, but she seems pretty cool. She’s the local school teacher, so she’s really nice and friendly. She’s fairly pretty for a mare, I guess. I’m not really an expert or anything, but she seems just as attractive as the other mares in town. When she comes into the shop get shoes and tack made for the school sports teams, she’s always been outgoing and nice to me, so there’s that. And, well, Mac really seems to like her. I know a couple of ponies were worried that they were still under some effects from the love poison Applebloom and her friends gave them (I’m so glad they finally got their cutie marks, because those children were honestly starting to scare me with their “crusading”), but Mac seems to genuinely like her. He’s always talking about how great she is when we hang out, how they always make each other laugh and smile. When I see them walking around town, they always look really happy, especially Mac. And, well, the few times I’ve seen them kiss each other seems to say that they’re really honest and truly happy with each other.
…
So there it is. I’ve got a crush on Mac and nothing else, and Mac and Cheerilee are happy together. And I am completely and totally okay with this.
Honest.
…
…
This sounded more convincing in my head...
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.
Chapter Three: No One Else
When I’m away she never leaves the house.
I want a girl who laughs for no one else…
I inhale the crisp autumn air as I walk through Ponyville Square. It’s a perfect day to be out and about; sunny, and only slightly chilly. I lazily drift through the marketplace; even though it’s fairly late in the afternoon, there are still plenty of ponies about, sifting through the various vendor's wares. I buy an apple cinnamon muffin from Ditzy Doo and munch it slowly as I take in the other stalls. I’m not looking for anything in particular, really. Just browsing and picking up a few odds and ends.
After looking at a couple of interesting watches and having a pleasant conversation with Time Turner (nice pony, but is that stallion ever eccentric), I decide to warp things up at the market and head to the park.
Spotting a trash can at the other end of the walkway, I trot over to it, catching a wiff of the delicious hot pretzels from Curly Bread’s stand as I do. I should come by the market more often, such a nice atmosphere here. Too bad in a few weeks it’s going to be cold and snowy. I like the snow, I do, but it’s really not conducive to the ‘standing around, having a chat’ feel the market has.
Tossing my muffin wrapper into the bin, I turn to head towards the park when something catches my eye. A little ways away, nestled between Carrot Top’s and Leafy Green’s stands is the Apple family’s stand, which isn’t unusual by itself, the Apples always have their stand up on market days. What is unusual, however, is the pony standing behind said stand.
Why’s Big Mac running the stand? I thought Applejack usually runs the stand on Saturdays? Deciding that I’m not going to get any answers sitting around thinking to myself, I head over to stand, waving when I get close. Macspots me, giving a wave of his own before returning to his customer.
I arrive at the stand just as the customer is leaving. “Hey Mac! Fancy seeing you here. Doesn’t Applejack usually work Saturdays?”
Mac nods in response “Hello, Mel. Nice to see ya too. And yes, Applejack’s suppose ‘ta be working the stand today, but she had to run off last minute with Miss Pie somewhere. ‘Friendship Problem’, ah suppose.”
I smirk “Wow, and she trusted you of all ponies to run the stand all by yourself? ”
Mac raises an eyebrow and offers a smirk of his own “Says the pony who can’t go a Winter Wrap Up without losing the grass seeds.”
“Touché” I respond, which causes us both to chuckle. It’s always been so much easier for me to talk to Big Mac than to other ponies. I guess knowing somepony for so long just makes it easier to be more relaxed and open about one’s self.
“So, what’re ya doing in the market on such a fine day?” Mac asks, resting a foreleg on the stall.
“Oh you know, just sort of browsing around, seeing the local fare and whatnot.”
“Uh-huh. Ah bet ya came here just cause ya wanted to see me.” Mac says with a cheeky grin.
I feel myself blush at his comment, but manage to cover it with a smirk. “Oh yes. I came all the way out here desperately hoping to hear the all-mighty words of wisdom from the glorious Big Macintosh Apple.”
Mac chuckles heartily at this, which makes my blush come back with a vengeance. Wow, keeping it real cool today, Caramel. “While I’m here, can I get a few apples? My supply at home is a little low” I say, changing the subject and hoping he won’t notice that my face is slowly becoming the colour of his coat.
Mac takes a moment to settle before responding “Course ya can. What’re ya in the mood for?”
“Hmmm, do you have any Granny Smith’s?”
“Ah sure do, but she’s at home.”
“Ooh, careful with that joke, it’s an antique.”
“So’s Granny Smith.” He replies, which causes us both to start chuckling again. This is nice, being able to just talk and joke with somepony. I wish I could talk to everypony as easily as I can with Big Mac. I look back at Big Mac, who’s still recovering from his chuckle attack. So many ponies think he’s just a loner with nothing to say. If they’d actually stop and got to know him like I do, they’d see what a great guy he is to be around, and how easy it is to talk to him. Without warning, the conversation I had with Steam last night springs to the front of my mind. So if he’s so easy to talk to, why can’t I just tell him and be done with it? It should be so simple, and yet here I am, debating with myself like an idiot. I just wish there was a way I could…
My thoughts are interrupted by a perky voice cutting through the air.
“Now what’s got these two handsome stallions giggling like school fillies?”
I instantly recognize the voice, and my good mood vanishes like a ghost. Turning around, I spot the purple mare and my suspicions are proven correct.
“Afternoon, Cheerilee.” Big Mac says with a warm smile.
“Good afternoon to you too, Mac.” Cheerilee replies, returning the smile.
I feel my face heating up again, and look down at the ground, hoping they can’t see it.
“And good afternoon to you too, Caramel. You’re looking nice today.”
I instantly snap my head back up. “O-Oh, thank you, M-Miss Cheerilee. Y-You look nice today t-too.” Smooth, Caramel. Real smooth.
“Why, thank you.” She says with a smile “Actually, I wanted to talk to you for a moment. I’ve got some shoes that need to be repaired before the winter gets here. Those foals are so rough, I swear you could give them shoes made out of diamond and they’d find a way to break them.” She chuckles a bit before continuing “I know you’re going to be busy with winter orders in a few weeks, but I don’t suppose I’d be able to come in some time this week to get them done? There’s only a few pairs, it shouldn’t take very long.”
“Y-Yeah, that should be fine, Miss Cheerilee. I j-just have to check the schedule.” I say, begging Celestia and any other goddesses to please let my face stop burning.
“Oh, wonderful! Thank you so much, Caramel. You’re a lifesaver. And you,” she says, turning to Big Mac with a smile “Mr. Hardworking Stallion, I’m assuming we’re still on for our dinner tomorrow night?”
“Eyup,” Mac says with a tender smile “Ah wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Neither would I.” She replies, smiling back at him. I pray for Discord to lob a meteor at me right now, just so I can get out of this situation.
Cheerilee thankfully seems to remember I’m standing right here, as she composes herself before speaking “Anywho, I must be on my way, I’ve got many place to go and so little time to get there.” She giggles again before continuing “It was nice seeing you, Caramel. Thanks so much again for helping me out.”
“Y-Yeah, no problem.” I stutter out.
“I’ll see you later, Mr. Macintosh. Don’t work too hard.” She says playfully, giving him a light boop on the nose.
“Ah won’t.” Mac replies, and before I can even move, he leans over and kisses her straight on the lips. I look away, my face burning so intently I’m surprised the wooden stand hasn’t caught fire yet. Why. Why me. Why do they have to do that in public? Better yet, why do they have to do that in front of ME? I’m so wrapped up in my embarrassment that I nearly jump out of my skin when Mac says my name.
“Y-Yes Mac?” I say, a little too quickly.
Mac looks at me a moment before offering me a small smile. “Your apples?”
I notice that Cheerilee has already left before looking down at the bag of green apples Mac is holding in his hoof. “Oh. Y-Yeah.” I quickly fish out the appropriate amount of bits in my saddlebag and exchange them for the apples, deciding it would be best to get out of here before I turn into a complete colour clone of Big Mac. “T-Thanks. A-Anyways, I should probably get going now. I’ll talk to you later.” I quickly stuff the apples in my saddlebag and turn to leave, when I feel a hoof grab my shoulder.
“Wait, Mel.” I turn back, finding Big Mac staring at me. “Ah wanted to ask ya somethin’ before ya left.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ask “W-What?”
He gestures for me to come closer, which I do, albeit confusedly. He quickly looks in the direction that Cheerilee left before turning back to me and lowering his voice “Think ya could come by the East Barn tonight, say around Seven?”
I blink in confusion before replying “Ummm, probably? What for?”
Mac smiles at me “Ah’ve got some big news ah want to announce, but ah wanted to tell ya before I told anypony else.”
I once again blink in confusion “Big news? W-what kind of big news?”
Mac just smiles at me again “You’ll have ‘ta just wait and see.” He says with a wink “Will ya come?”
My brain is still trying to process everything, so it takes me a second to reply “Uh, yeah. I mean yeah, of course I’ll come!”
“Great!” Mac says, leaning back “I’ll see ya tonight then, buddy.”
“Yeah…” I say as I turn to leave “See you tonight…”
I walk slowly out of the market, my head swimming with questions. What does he want to see me for tonight? I mean, I love hanging out with Big Mac anytime, but what’s this ‘big news’ he’s got, and why was he being all ‘hush-hush’ about it? And more importantly, why does he want to tell me first before anypony else? I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Oh well, no point in worrying about it now. I’ll just have to wait until Seven, I guess.
I stop walking.
Wait a minute, Seven?
I quickly look around before spotting the clock tower.
Oh Celestia, it’s already quarter to Five! I only have two hours to eat and get ready!
I quickly sprint towards my apartment, once again cursing my non-athletic body.
I really should have looked into that gym membership...
Chapter Four: Holiday
Let’s go away for a while, you and I.
To a strange and distant land…
I feel myself shiver in the chilly evening air as I walk up the hill to the East Barn. I’m pretty much walking on autopilot at this point, I’ve been to the East Barn so many times in my life I know the route by heart. Arriving at the top of the hill, I superstitiously check my mane and coat to make sure I’m still neatly groomed. I know it’s just the two of us, and in all honesty Mac probably doesn’t really care how I look, but a little grooming never hurt anypony.
I rap my hoof against the door to the barn, and then wait patiently, hearing a couple of crickets already out in the early night. I only have to wait a few seconds before I hear the sounds of what is unmistakably Big Mac coming down the stairs.
Either that or a herd of buffalo found its way into the barn and is now stampeding down the stairs.
Seconds later, the barn door opens and my buffalo theory is disproven as a brightly smiling red stallion is standing there instead. “Mel! Thanks again for coming. Come on in!”
I nod in response “Thanks, Mac.” I follow him into the barn, closing the door behind me before trotting up the stairs after him. The East Barn has been our hang out spot since we were colts. The ground floor of the barn is still used as a regular barn, storing equipment and whatnot, but upstairs is a loft space that was never used for anything. When we were colts, Mac and I used to go up there to read, or play board games, or even create our own games and stories. Once we got to high school, I helped Mac turn the loft space into our own personal “stallion cave”.
Arriving at the top of the stairs, I take in the familiar sights. A bar takes up the far left corner of the loft, with a couple of stools to sit on and plenty of Apple Family Cider and other alcohol stocked behind it. Across from the bar near the railing is an old mattress covered with clean sheets. This is our makeshift bed, in case somepony gets too intoxicated to walk home (which has happened more than a few times). In between the bar and the bed is a door which lead to a fire escape of sorts to the ground outside, which is also where the outhouse is. This is really the only flaw of the loft space, because trying to go up and down those stairs to use the washroom while you’re drunk is not fun, and I’m a little ashamed to admit I’ve taken more than one tumble down them. In the bottom right corner next to the stairs is the poker table. This is generally where we spend most of our time, either actually playing poker or just sitting around talking. The last piece of furniture in the loft sits in the the top right corner, directly in front of the stairs. It’s an old, slightly beat up gramophone. Mac found it in the attic of the farmhouse one day. The sound quality isn’t that great, but it works well enough and provides some nice background noise. Right now it’s playing some soft reggae music that I recognize as one of the bands I got Mac into.
I follow Mac as he heads to the bar and takes a seat behind it. I hop up onto a stool, taking a moment to adjust, before looking over the bar at him. “So what’s this big news you’ve got?”
Mac holds up his hoof in response, silencing me as he continues to dig around behind the bar. After a few moments he comes up with two steins filled with what I can only assume is cider. He slides one across to me, and I look up at him questioningly.
“Before ah get to ma big news, ah’d like to have a drink first.” He says, raising his stein.
I raise my eyebrow in response, lifting my stein as well. “Alright, what are we drinking too?”
“How about to us?”
“To us?” I ask skeptically, my eyebrow still raised.
“Why not? We’ve been friends for a long time, Mel. Ah think we should celebrate that.”
I look over his face, trying to find some sort of give or tell. He seems completely earnest, which makes me feel like I’m missing something here. After a moment I just shrug my shoulders and decide to go with it. “Alright. To us.”
“To us.” He repeats, clinking his stein against mine.
We both tip our steins back and take a sip. I almost choke on the extremely potent taste of alcohol. I whack myself on the chest a few times to get over the shock, before setting my stein back down on the bar and looking at Mac questioningly. “Mac, this is your Triple-X cider.”
“Uh-huh.” He says with a cheeky little smile.
If my eyebrow could go any higher, it would. “You only bring this stuff out when it’s a really special occasion.”
“Eyup.” That cheeky smile is still there.
“So…..?”
“So what?” That smile is starting to get a little infuriating.
“Sooo... what’s the big news?” I say, exasperated.
Mac waves me off again “In due time, Mel. In due time. Ah just want to hang out and talk for a bit.”
I stare at him flatly, causing him to chuckle “Ah’m serious Mel! We haven’t just hung out in a while, and ah’ve missed it.”
I think back, and find his statement rings true. It’s been a few weeks since the two of us just hung out like this, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also miss it. “Alright then, what’s up? How’s life been for you?”
“Pretty good, ah suppose. Mostly just been getting things ready ‘round here for winter.” He says, taking another gulp of his cider and resting his foreleg on the bar.
“I feel you on that.” I say, relaxing a little “Clyde always wants things ready like three weeks before winter is even due. It’s a little annoying sometimes when I’m still processing fall orders and he start giving me the winter stock.” I say with a roll of my eyes.
Mac chuckles. “Ain’t nothing wrong with being prepared. Ya never know, we might get one of those ridiculously early winters like we did a few years ago.”
“I guess. I still don’t know how the weather team managed to screw up the schedule that badly.”
“Me neither. One of life’s mysterious, ah guess.” He takes another sip before continuing “So, you get any more stories from customers about how they ‘supposedly’ lost or wrecked their horseshoes?”
I play with the ring of my stein while I think about it “Not recently, no. But my roommate just got back from Fillydelphia, and you won’t believe what happened there.”
“Oh yeah?” Mac says, leaning forward with interest.
I decide to take another drink of my cider, feeling the warm burning sensation slide down my throat, before continuing.“So Steam Whistle and his coworkers get to Filly, right? And his one buddy Manny needs to get his shoe repaired….”
“...so then ah said ‘Poker? Ah hardly know her!” Mac finishes, causing both to burst into raucous laughter. I have to grab onto the bar to stop myself from falling over. I don’t know how long it’s been since I got here, but all I know is that even though I’m only finishing my second stein of cider while Mac is starting his fourth, I am definitely feeling it already. Oh man, I forgot how kick-ass this special cider was.
“Ya should’ve seen the look on that old fuddy-duddy’s face when ah said that!” Mac continues, wiping a tear from his eye.
I giggle “I bet his face was as red as your coat.”
“Naw, I think it was even redder! ” Mac says, causing us both to start laughing again.
I wipe a tear of my own from the corner of my eye, sighing with happiness. At some point, Mac switched records, and now some upbeat synth is playing quietly in the background, and I feel myself swaying gently with the music.
I think I used to listen to these guys in high school. That was fun. Right now is fun too. I’m really glad I’m hanging out with Mac. I missed this, this is really nice.
Suddenly another voice pops into my head. You should tell him.
Okay, I will.
“This is really nice, Mac. I’m glad we can hang out like this.” I say with a smile.
Mac smiles back at me. “Ah’m glad too. Ah love hanging out with ya. Thanks for comin’ tonight.”
“No problem. I always have time for my best bud.” I say, holding up my stein. Mac reciprocates and we clink our stiens together briefly before I finish off my cider.
As I’m setting it down on the bar, that other voice pops up again. That’s not what I meant.
Then what DID you mean, other voice?
I meant you should tell him how you feel.
I should tell who how I feel about what?
You should tell Mac how you feel about HIM, silly billy!
Oh yeah. You think I should tell him?
Yeah! Now’s the perfect time.
Why?
Why what?
Why is now the perfect time?
Because he’s in a good mood, and because you’re both drunk! So if you tell him and it goes well, then everything is peaches and gravy. And if you tell him and it goes squibbly, you can just play it off as you being drunk! You can’t not un-lose at this, I think?
Wow, you’re right, that makes so much sense! You’re so smart, other me.
I know. Now go tell him, ya goober!
I swing my head up and look at Mac. “Sooo, Mac.”
He looks back at me “Sooo, Mel.”
I giggle a bit before continuing “I have something to tell you.” I say in a sing-song voice.
“Do ya?” Mac says, looking at me with interest. Suddenly, he sits up, as if he just remembered something. “Oh! Wait! Hang On. Shhhh.” He says in rapid succession, put a hoof to my lips to silence me, which only causes me to giggle again. “Ah have somethin’ to tell ya first!”
I start to say something, but I see how excited he is and decide not too. Oh well. I’ll just tell him after. He seems excited about whatever he has to say.
“Do you really? What is it?” I ask, gently pushing his hoof off my mouth.
“It’s ma big news!” He says excitedly.
Oh yeah, that’s why he wanted me to come over, wasn’t it? “What is it?”
A huge grin spreads across his face as he claps his hooves together excitedly, and I can’t help but giggle at his foal-like glee. “Okay okay! So! Ah was going to wait until after tomorrow night to announce this to everypony, but I was just too dang excited, so ah needed to tell somepony, and since you’ve been ma best bud forever, ah wanted to tell ya first!”
Aw, he’s so sweet. He’s like a big red puppy. “So what’s the story, morning glory?” I ask, cupping my chin in my hooves.
“Okay okay! First, ya gotta close yer eyes!”
I look at him with fake scrutiny. “This isn’t some sort of prank, is it?”
He waves me off again “No no, it’s no prank! Just do it!”
I pause for a moment, watching him giddily dancing on his hooves like a foal waiting for their Hearth’s Warming Eve presents, before complying and shutting my eyes. “Okay, now what?”
“Alright, jus’ give me a second.” I hear him shuffling around behind the bar, giggling to myself when I hear him bang his head on something. After what seems like an eternity to me he speaks again “Okay, now give me yer left hoof.”
I start to give him my hoof, but hesitate. “You’re not going to put duct tape on it and then rip it off like in high school, are you?”
“Hey, that wasn’t me! That was Mighty Machine!” Oh yeah, so it was. My bad. “And no, ah ain't gonna do that.”
I give him my hoof, and feel him slip something on it. “You better not be hoofcuffing me to something…” I jokingly warn.
“Ah'm not…” He replies in a sing-song voice. After a few more seconds of adjusting, he removes his hooves. “Okay, ready? Open yer eyes!”
I open my eyes, and look down at my hoof.
It takes my alcohol-clouded brain a few seconds to recognize what I’m looking at.
It’s a bracelet.
An engagement bracelet.
My mind grinds to a halt.
I feel stupid for admitting this, really I do, but for a brief second, I think that he’s proposing to me.
But then logic kicks in.
And the warm, comforting embrace of the cider is replaced with the icy, cold harshness of reality.
I slowly look up from my hoof, trying to find my voice. “M-Mac….?”
I look into his puppy-dog eyes and see the pure, unadulterated happiness in them, and for a moment, time stands still. For just a fraction of second, everything stops, and I want nothing more than to preserve this moment, to take a snapshot of it and frame it on the wall. Because for just this second, everything feels fine. The world is content, the universe is at peace, and I’m just sitting here with my best buddy, enjoying the evening like the two friends we are, and everything is wonderful.
But then he opens his mouth…
“Ah’m gonna ask Miss Cheerilee to marry me.”
...and my whole world comes crashing down on me.
Chapter Five: Say It Ain’t So
Something is bubbling behind my back.
The bottle is ready to blow…
I can’t breathe.
My blood feels like it’s been replaced with ice water. I can feel my heart racing wildly in my chest and I’m positive it’s going to explode. I can’t hear anything except that word ringing in my ears.
Married
Big Mac is getting married.
He’s getting married to her .
All I can do is sit there and stare at his puppy dog face. Some part of my alcohol-clouded brain reminds me that I still haven’t responded to him, but my mouth’s too dry. I open and close it a few times, trying desperately to say something, anything.
Finally I manage to get out a single word “M-Married…?” It’s barely above a whisper.
Mac still manages to hear it, and nods enthusiastically “Eyup! Ah’m going to ask her tomorrow at our dinner. Isn’t that great?” He looks at me with so much pride and happiness, and all I can do is feel my heart start to shatter.
“Why?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Mac tilts his head in confusion, his own intoxicated mind seemingly needing a second to process what I said, before offering me a small smile “Why what?”
“Why are you marrying her?” My mind finally realizes what I just said, and I desperately try to recover “I-I just mean...isn’t, um….isn’t it...a little s-sudden? I-I-I mean, haven’t you two only being going out for like a year?”
Mac takes a moment to process the question before responding “Well, it’s been more like a year and a half, maybe even a year and three quarters, but the Apple family have always married fairly quickly. It’s sort of tradition.” He pauses, looking at me slightly confused “Mel, is something wrong?”
“Nothing!” I blurt out much too quickly “N-Nothing’s wrong! I just, I just….” I take a breath, trying to keep myself from coming completely apart “I just...are you really sure about this? About her ?”
Mac blinks in confusion, before offering me a warm smile “Shucks, Mel. Ah appreciate ya looking out for me like that.” He says, taking my hoof and gently removing the bracelet from it. His hoof feels like burning lava against my arctic fur. “But ah didn’t just decide to do this all willy-nilly. Ah’ve been thinking about this for a while, and ah’m honestly ready to settle down.” He pauses, and then looks off to the side, seemingly lost in his own alcohol-induced world “Y’know Mel, when ah was a colt, ah didn’t think ah was ever going to get married. You know how shy ah’ve always been, talking t’new ponies has always been hard for me to do, so between that and my work on the farm, finding a marefriend just seemed like it was out of the question.”
All I can do is stare numbly at the bar top while he continues on. “But then ah met Cheerilee, and everything seemed to change, y’know? Ah mean, the first time ah met her, back when ah was registering Applebloom fer school, ah could barely look her in the eye! But she’s always been so patient and understanding with me, comes from being a school teacher ah bet. And after that incident with ‘Bloom and her friends, ah got to actually talking with her, and ah couldn’t believe how amazing she was!” He rests his head on his hoof, and the goofy, lovestruck smile I used to adore makes its way to his face “Ah know it might be hard to imagine ‘cause you don’t talk to her as much as ah do, but Mel, she’s honestly one of the kindest and nicest ponies ah’ve ever met. She’s so sweet, always bringing me these little snacks and treats while ah’m working on the farm. She loves talking about the things she loves and the things ah’m interested in, and whenever we talk, she always listens closely to what ah have t’say, even if it’s not a lot or very important. She’s so good with foals, ah love listen to her stories about working at the school. Every time ah’m with her, ah just feel, ah don’t know….like ah can be more honest and open about myself. She’s the only other pony in the world besides you that ah feel like ah can really talk to all the time. And ah really, honest and truly, want to spend the rest of ma days with her…”
He continues on, but I’ve become too numb to hear him anymore. I just stare at the polished oak of the bar, feeling like the dumbest pony in the universe. Every word he says about her just feels like a dagger through my heart. I...I knew he liked her, but I didn’t think it was serious. I didn’t WANT it to be serious. I just thought…I don’t even know what I thought. That eventually he’d be done with her and they’d just go their separate ways? And then what, I’d swoop in to snatch him up? I should’ve known from the way he talked about her that this was serious, but I was too wrapped up in my own fantasies to notice. No, no, I had to have noticed. I knew this was coming in some way, but I didn’t want to face facts, so I just pretended everything was fine. How could I have been so stupid!?
“Hey Mel?” Mac says suddenly, jarring me out of my numb state. I stare at his face, at the warm smile he’s giving me, and I just feel my stomach drop.
“Listen,” He says, taking my hoof in his own. “There was one other thing ah wanted to share with ya tonight.”
Oh Celestia no, I can’t take anymore.
“...even though ah don’t have a date planned fer the wedding yet…”
No no no.
“...ah want you….”
Don’t do it, Mac.
“...to be…”
Please stop.
“...my Best Stallion.”
Everything comes to a grinding halt. A single image comes to mind: Sweet Apple Acres on a warm summer afternoon, with rows of chairs filled with ponies leading up to a beautifully decorated arch. Beneath it stands Cheerilee, dressed in a long, flowing white dress, and Big Mac, dressed in the most stunning and beautiful tuxedo I’ve ever seen. They stand there, smiling warmly at each other like high school sweethearts, gazing deep into each other’s eyes, thinking about how happy they are together, how excited they are to begin their life together and spend the rest of their days in holy matrimony, before kissing passionately, cementing their bond and their love for each other, while all the ponies cheer, some even bursting into tears.
And all the while, I’m standing there, off to the side, watching my best friend and the stallion I love getting married to somepony else. And then Big Mac looks at me, and then I have to go in front of all those ponies, in front of Cheerilee, and in front of Mac, and make a speech to all of them about how happy I am for the two of them.
How happy I am that he’s getting married to her.
How happy I am that they get to spend the rest of their lives with each other.
Without me.
It’s too much.
“I-I have to go.” I say suddenly, jerking my hoof free from his grasp.
Mac jerks back in surprise, looking confused and a little hurt, which sends another dagger through my heart. “What? Why?”
I jump off the stool onto my hooves, and almost fall straight to the floor with how unbalanced I am. Fuck, I forgot how drunk I was. “I-I’m just not feeling feel. S’the alcohol or something.” I throw out any excuse I can, just wanting to get out of there.
Mac gets off of his stool, and he actually does fall to the floor before getting up on shaky hooves “Mel, if you’re not feeling well, why don’t you just have a rest here and…”
“No I can’t stay here, I need to go.” I say quickly, and head to the stairs. I stumble and fall into the gramophone, which lets out a horrid scratching noise as the needle gets bumped. “I need to go home, I’m sorry. Congrats, Mac. I’m really happy for you.” I feel my voice crack on my last sentence and know it’s time to get out of there. I book it down the stairs, miraculously managing not to fall. I hear Mac call out for me, but I don’t stop. I throw the barn door open, not even bothering to shut it behind me, and book it into the night.
And then I just run.
I run down the path towards Ponyville, my lungs burning and aching for air, my muscles screaming, but I still don’t slow down.
Don’t cry, don’t think about it, just get home.
My hooves pound into the dirt, my mane and tail whipping behind me.
Don’t cry, don’t think about it, just get home.
I hear several leaves tumble from the trees behind me onto the ground, but I pay them no mind.
Don’t cry, don’t think about it, just get home.
Coming around the corner, I finally, mercifully, see Ponyville. The streetlights are on, and I can’t see any ponies milling about outside. Good.
Don’t cry, don’t think about it, just get…
My hoof catches on a root, and I go sprawling across the path, my coat and mane getting covered in dirt. I come to a stop in the underbrush, getting up on shaky hooves.
Don’t cry, don’t think about it, just…
Something catches my eye as I’m standing up, and I make the mistake of looking.
It’s a playground.
No. Please no. The universe can’t be that cruel…
Against my will, my head turns to the left, and my fears are confirmed.
I’m standing in front of the schoolhouse.
All the lights are off, and the doors are clearly shut and locked, but I still glance over the entire place, not wanting to see her .
And then, while I’m standing there, staring at the dark schoolhouse, it happens.
I let my mental guard down for just a second, and reality hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest.
He doesn’t love you. He’ll never love you. He loves her. He loves her, and he wants to start a family with her. You never had a chance. It doesn’t matter when or where or how you told him, it still would’ve turned out like this. This was how it was always going to go. You knew from the beginning this was how it was going to turn out. He’s always been straight, you’ve never been compatible. He loves her the way you love him. They’re going to get married, and settle down, and probably have foals, and grow old together, and have this big, perfect, lovey-dovey, fantastic, wonderful life.
Together
Without you.
And you’ll always want what she has.
And you’ll never have it.
Ever.
I need to get home.
I fling the door to my apartment open. It slams against the wall, knocking a poster down. Steam Whistle snaps his head towards me in surprise, the bong he’s holding falling to the floor, the noise from the movie he’s watching forgotten.
“Oh jeez, Mel, you startled me! I didn’t expect you…” He trails off, taking in my appearance “...Mel? What happened to you?”
“Nothing I’m fine don’t worry about it.” I blurt out, quickly brushing past him into the hallway, ignoring his confused protests. I run into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My mane is disheveled and messy; bits of twigs and grass cling to it from my tumble into the underbrush. My coat doesn’t fare much better, it’s all ruffled and wild, and there’s streaks of dirt running through it. But what really gets me is my eyes. They’re red-rimmed and bloodshot from the alcohol, but there’s something else.
They’re empty.
I stare at them for a moment, seeing how broken I really am, before turning away. I slide down, sitting on the floor between the sink and the tub. I close my eyes and hold my head in my hooves. I let it all wash over me, feeling my carousel of thoughts spinning wildly, showing me rapid-fire images.
Mac and Cheerilee together.
Mac and Cheerilee kissing.
Mac and Cheerilee on their wedding day.
Mac and Cheerilee on their honeymoon.
Mac and Cheerilee buying a house together.
Mac and Cheerilee happily having breakfast together.
Mac and Cheerilee having a foal together.
Mac and Cheerilee sending their foal to school.
Mac and Cheerilee growing old together.
Mac and Cheerilee at their grandfoal’s birthday.
Mac and Cheerilee as elders, sitting on their front porch together.
Then the images change.
Caramel alone.
Caramel at Mac and Cheerilee’s wedding.
Caramel giving his Best Stallion’s speech.
Caramel watching Mac and Cheerilee leave on their honeymoon.
Caramel living by himself.
Caramel watching Mac and Cheerilee send their foal to school.
Caramel watching Mac and Cheerilee grow old together.
Caramel as an elder, sitting alone in an empty house with nobody.
Caramel dying alone.
When I feel a hoof rest on my on shoulder, I look up, half-expecting Mac to be standing there. Instead, it’s Steam, looking at me with concern.
“Mel, what happened tonight?” He asks softly.
I try to speak, but my mouth is too dry, so I just stare at him blankly, causing his concern to grow.
“C’mon Mel, talk to me. What’s going on?”
I look into his eyes, seeing the overwhelming concern in them, and force myself to speak, When I do, it’s barely audible. “He’s getting married…” I say, looking away from him.
“He’s what? Say again bud, I didn’t hear you.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I take a shaky breath before looking him in the eye and speaking clearly.
“Big Mac is going to propose to Cheerilee. They’re getting married.”
It takes Steam a moment to process what I said, but then the realization hits him, and his face floods with painful sympathy.
“Oh, Caramel…”
I finally break.
Steam opens his forelegs, and I fall into his embrace, bursting into tears as I do. He rubs gentle circles on my back as I sob into his shoulder like the stupid idiot I am.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, and I don’t care.
I just cry until there’s nothing left inside.
Chapter Six: Undone
If you want to destroy my sweater,
Hold this thread as I walk away…
Empty.
I feel empty.
Like my insides have been removed, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. Everything that made me me , everything I thought I knew about myself, feels like it’s vanished, and I’m just left here, wandering listlessly, with nowhere to go. A ship without a captain, a taxi with no driver. I am Caramel, the world’s most useless pony.
Melodramatic?
Maybe.
Accurate?
Unfortunately so.
Mac popped the question the next night. She said yes, obviously.
Why wouldn’t she?
I stayed inside all day Sunday, watching horror movies without really paying attention, and just generally feeling like the roof could collapse on my head and I wouldn’t really notice or care.
On Monday, I got up, showered, and went to work. I did my job, chatted with the customers, even cracked a joke or two. Afterwards, I went home, laid on the couch listening to sad songs and stared at the ceiling for a while, then had dinner and went to bed.
I did the same thing on Tuesday.
And Wednesday.
Thursday, too.
And just to mix things up, I did the same thing on Friday.
I figure if I just go about things like everything’s fine, then maybe, possibly, eventually, things actually will be fine.
It’s a flawed method, but it’s gotten me through most of my life…
Cheerilee came in on Wednesday to get the foal’s shoes repaired. She chatted with me about how happy she is to be getting married. I told her I was happy for her.
I don’t think she really bought it, but she was also too excited to really notice.
Again, why wouldn’t she be?
Mac came by the apartment on Sunday. Steam answered the door, thankfully. He told him I was fine, just feeling a bit sick. Maybe I had a stomach bug or something. He didn’t like lying to Mac like that, but he did it anyways. For me.
I don’t know what I’d do with Steam sometimes.
Mac came back again on Thursday. Steam was out, so I had to answer the door myself. I told Mac that I was fine, just feeling a bit under the weather still. He told me that he wanted to have a party on Saturday night. A pre-bachelor party/celebration for his recent engagement sort of thing. Nothing big, just him and one or two of his close friends. He wanted me to come. I told him I’d think about it, and congratulated him again.
I don’t think he bought it, either.
To be honest, I don’t think I did too.
And now here we are. On Saturday. The big day. And I’m in the position that I’ve become accustomed to this past week: On the couch, flat on my back, listening to a record that I didn’t even look at before I threw it on but has some fittingly sad piano , and staring at the ceiling, wondering what malevolent spirit or god I pissed off to wind up in this situation.
Woe is me, and other such idioms.
I hear the front door open, but I don’t bother to look. I hear a pair of saddlebags hit the floor before Steam Whistle walks into my view. He looks at me with the same sympathy he had that night in the bathroom. “Hey buddy, how you feeling today?”
I don’t say anything, which causes Steam to sigh. Looking at me for a moment, he turns and flicks a switch on the Hi-Fi. The needle gently returns, and the room is filled with nothing but silence. He turns back to me, his look of sympathy now tinged with exasperation. “Mel, you can’t keep going on like this.”
“Is there some rule that says I’m not allowed to be sad?” I ask, turning to him.
Steam stares at me for a moment, before sighing again. He trots over to the couch and climbs up on it, gently resting my head on his lap as he does.
“Of course you’re allowed to be sad, Mel. Celestia knows you have every reason to be upset, and it’s good that you’re allowing yourself to feel sad and not bottling it up.”
“So what’s the problem then?”
“The problem is you’re allowed to be sad up to a point. You can’t keep sitting around all day feeling sad and miserable, Mel. It’s not healthy for you to keep doing this to yourself, and it’s certainly not good for your emotional state.” Steam says, and begins gently stroking my head. It feels kind of nice, actually.
I sigh and look him in the eyes. “I know it’s not good for me, Steam. Just like I knew it wasn’t good for me to keep my secret in.” Steam winces at that, but I keep going “But how can I not feel this way? He’s getting married, and I’m just supposed to pretend I’m okay with it?” I look away, closing my eyes and just focusing on the gentle motions of his hoof on my head.
“I know, buddy. I know. It’s not the ideal situation at all.”
I sigh “This whole mess would’ve been so much easier if I was straight…”
His hoof stops suddenly. “Caramel, look at me.”
I do, and I’m surprised to see his sympathetic expression has turned stern. “Don’t ever think like that, okay? You can’t change who love you anymore than I can change the fact I’m a pegasus. Just because you’re in a bad situation doesn’t mean you should want to change who you are.”
I look away, feeling slightly ashamed “I-I know, Steam, I do, but what am I supposed to do now? I still...I still love him. I love him, and he’s marrying somepony else. What am I supposed to do about this?” I close my eyes, feeling a few tears escaping. Steam’s hoof resumes stroking, and I allow myself to just think about nothing and lose myself in the feeling.
We sit quietly like that for a few moments, before Steam breaks the silence “Do you remember Candy Stripes?”
I open my eyes at look at him, taking a second to recall the name “The nurse we had at the high school? Sort of, yeah. Why?”
“I never really told anyone this, but when I first started high school, for some reason I got it in my head that I was going to marry her.” I send him a look. “I’m serious. Even though she was twice my age and was married with kids, I honestly believed that I was going to marry her and spend my life with her. It was a silly school crush, yes, but that didn’t make it any less real to me. But one day, around the end of sophomore year, I was walking by her office, and I saw her in there with one of her foals. And all of a sudden, it just hit me. That it was never going to happen. That no matter what I thought or did, I wasn’t going to marry her and spend my life with her. And I was sad and upset, of course of I was. But I also realized something that day, Mel.”
I look up at him, and he continues. “I realized that there are some things in life that we are never going to have. That no matter how hard we try or want it, there are things that just aren’t going to happen. And we have to learn to accept it. Is it easy? Celestia no, it isn’t. It’s one of the hardest things we have to do. Anyone who tells you that it’s easy to get over someone or something is a bold-faced liar. It’s hard, and painful, and it sucks big time, buddy. But we do it anyways, and you know why?”
He looks at me “Because we have to. We have to, because it’s a part of life. We need to be able to move on. If we did nothing but dwell on the past, we’d never be able to progress to the future. If all you do is focus on the things that you can never have, you’ll never be able to look past them and see the things youdo have. It’s hard to do, but we have to be strong and do it. And Mel, you are strong.” I start to say something, but he cuts me off “Don’t try and tell me you’re not, because you are. You know how I know? Because you’ve lived most of your life in love with a pony who doesn’t know, and yet everyday you get up and you talk to him and you continue on with your life. That’s hard , Caramel. When I was in love with Candy Stripes, that shit ate away at me everyday, and I couldn’t stand it, and that was only for a year or two! But you, you’ve done it for most of your life, and you know why you did it for so long?” I don’t bother to respond, Steam’s on a roll now “Because you know that even if Mac didn’t return your feelings, you were going to be okay. And you still are, Mel. I’m not just saying this to cheer you up or make you feel better, I’m saying it because it’s true. You’re going to get through this, Mel. It’s not going to be easy, or fun, but you’ll get through it. And you don’t have to do it alone. You know I’ll always be here to help you. Will you always have feelings for Big Mac? Maybe. But you’ll learn to accept it and move on. And I’m sure you’ll find someone for you down the line. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even five or ten years from now, but someday you will. Because you are going to be okay.”
I’m left speechless. In all the years I’ve known Steam, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk so passionately about something.
But he’s not done yet. “And Mel, it’s not just for yourself that you need to move on, although that’s the most important reason. You also need to move on for your friends.” He looks away for a second, then looks back at me “I ran into Big Mac when I was out today. He’s really worried about you, Mel.” The thought of Mac being worried about me sends a chill through me, and I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat. “I know you don’t want to hear it because it’s going to be hard, but you have to talk to him at some point about how you feel. When you and I were talking last Friday about telling him, what was the biggest reason why you didn’t want to tell him?”
I manage to force the words past the lump “I-I didn’t want to tell him because I didn’t want to risk losing him as a friend…”
“Exactly. You value his friendship above all else. But Mel, if you keep avoiding him like this and keep focusing on how you’ll never be together, it’s going to strain your friendship, and I know you don’t want that. I don’t want that for you. So even though I know you still feel upset and I know you don’t want to talk to him, I need you to ask yourself: Is avoiding the issue and not moving on really worth losing your friendship with him?”
I swallow hard and think about it. Mac has been my closest friend since I was little. I can talk openly with him the way I can’t with others, and he’s always been at the forefront of my life. There’s nopony else in my life like Big Mac, and I don’t think there ever will be again. The thought of not being able to be with him hurts, the thought of having to watch him start a life with somepony else hurts more.
But the thought of not having him in my life altogether, of never being able to talk to somepony the way I can talk to him, of never hearing him tell those stories of his in that adorable accent, is unbearable.
I don’t know if Steam’s right about me finding somepony else down the line, I don’t know if I would ever find somepony I love as much as Big Macintosh. But I do know that I’ll never be able to find a friend as special as him.
I can’t lose him.
I have to try.
For my sake.
And for his.
“O-Okay.” I finally manage to speak “O-Okay, Steam. I’ll try.”
Steam smiles warmly at me. “That’s all we can do, Mel.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I let it out, I can feel most of the weight that’s been on my shoulders the past week start to lift. Feels nice.
I sit there for a few moments, letting Steam continue to stroke my head (It’s surprisingly comforting), before I look at him. “Hey Steam?”
“Yeah bud?”
“Y-You know that party, that Big Mac is having tonight?”
“Yeah?”
“...I should probably go to that, s-shouldn’t I?”
He looks at me “Mel, you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. But honestly? I think it would be good for you. The first step is always the hardest, and I think the party would be a good first step.”
“Y-Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Well, for one, there’s going to be other ponies there, so you won’t have to talk to him alone. Two, it’s going to be a friendly atmosphere, so that should help you relax a bit. And three, I think it would put Big Mac’s mind at ease to know you’re okay. And I think it would put your own mind at ease, as well. I think you’ll go there, you’ll have a couple brews, listen to some dumb funny stories, and you’ll see that everything’s still the same, that you’ll always have your best bud to hang out with. And if you get there, and you find you’re really uncomfortable or not ready yet, you can always come home early.”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Yeah, bud.” Steam replies, patting my head a few times.
I take another deep breath and let it out slowly, before looking at him with a half smirk “Y’know, for a supposedly straight pony, you’re awfully keen on touching my head.”
“Being straight doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to show my fellow stallion some love.” Steam replies, before squishing my cheeks between his hooves “Besides, how could I resist such a handsome face?”
“Yeah, definitely questioning your sexuality now.” I reply through my squished muzzle.
Steam laughs, before hooking his forelegs under my armpits and pulling me up into a backwards hug. “You know I’m always going to be here for ya, bud.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I reply, feeling his chest rest against my back. I take another breath and blow it out slowly. “When did my life get so dramatic?”
“Everypony’s life is dramatic. Some just more than others.” Steam says, putting his head over my shoulder. “But we still carry on. And Mel,” Without warning, I suddenly feel Steam’s muzzle right against my ear. “Do you know how I know things are going to be okay?” He whispers.
I recognize that tone. Oh no.
“Because…”
Before I can get away, his hooves tighten around my chest, and I feel myself being rocked from side to side.
And then the most horrendous noise in Equestria penetrates my ears.
“Theeeeeeeeeee sun’ll come out, tomorrow! ”
“Oh dear Celestia.”
“So you gotta hang on ‘till tomorrow! ”
“Please stop.”
“Come what may!”
“I’m in Tartarus. I’m literally in Tartarus.”
“Tomorrow, Tomorrow!”
“Why me?”
“I love ya, tomorrow!”
“You’re making me depressed again.”
“You’re always a daaaaaaaaaaaaaay…”
“What did I do to deserve this?”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...”
“Somepony kill me please.”
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!” With one final rock, Steam sends us both tumbling to the floor. We land in a heap, with Steam landing on top of me. I look up, and see he’s got one of the biggest, dumbest grins I’ve ever seen.
And then, I let out the first genuine laugh I’ve had all week.
I pull myself out from under him, brushing myself off while I do. “You know, you have a very annoying way of making me feel happy when I want to be sad.”
Steam shrugs at me “What can I say? It’s what I do.” He gives a mock bow, before looking at me again. “Listen, if you are going to go to this thing tonight, you should probably go and shower soon, because you’re my buddy and I love you, but you kind of smell like a Diamond Dog’s buttcrack right now.”
“Gee, thanks.” I reply sarcastically, before looking at the clock and sighing. “I’m really going to this thing, aren’t I?”
I feel his hoof on my shoulder, and turn to look at him. “You don’t have to go if you really don’t want to.”
“N-No, no, you’re right. This will be good for me, and I do want to get things back on track with him.” I look away and sigh before turning back “It’s just not going to be fun listening to him go on about her all night, that’s all.”
Steams looks at me for a moment. “Wait here a sec.” He turns and trots quickly into the kitchen. I watch him root around in the fridge for a second, curious. After a moment, he returns and presents me with a plate of what looks like chocolate brownies.
I start to say something, but then catch a whiff of the very pungent smell coming off the brownies, and I realize that he didn’t get these kinds of brownies at Sugar Cube Corner. “Special Brownies?” I ask, eyebrow raised.
Steam nods. “Uh-huh. Manny and I baked them earlier today.” When he sees my questioning look, he continues “I’ll throw some in a paper bag, and you can toss ‘em in your saddlebags. That way, if you get to the party and you’re nervous or not having a good time, you can have one or two. At least then things might be more enjoyable for you.”
I start to decline, but then reconsider. He’s got a point. Considering that there’s most likely going to be lots of talk about Mac and Cheerilee tonight, it might not be a bad idea to get stoned. At least then I might be able to tolerate it more. “Alright. Thanks, Steam.”
“No problem, bud. You know I got your back. Now go shower, stink-butt.” He says with a wink, playfully slapping me with his tail as he turns around.
I head towards the bathroom, mentally preparing myself. I can do this. It’s just a party. Steam’s right. I’ll get there, and I’ll see that everything is still the same between me and Mac. And if I really can’t stand listening to him go on about her, I can have a brownie or I can leave early. I can get through this.
How bad can it possibly be?
