Alone in a bar again.

The smell of cheap scotch was in the air, and the distant sound of laughter. A fairly worn out stool in front of a polished hardwood counter, a group of mares sharing a shitty cigarette around a table next to me. That was the standard picture of the nightlife - the nightlife of the decadent folks - in lower Canterlot district.

Central heating was never enough when most of the tables went empty by the end of the night, and the freezing wind from the outside crept into the building through the cracks between the window panes.

Quiet on my own corner, drinking from a whiskey bottle that for my misfortune tasted more like drenched timber, I silently observed life as it unfolded, noticing actions and orchestrated movements like scenes from a living motion film. There was no better movie for me; reality was my favorite author, director and editor.

I noticed when a shy unicorn mare accidentally tripped over some stallion's hoof, I noticed when her ears pinned down showing submission, and when she muttered something. Presumably apologizing, without knowing she had just made that stallion's day. Or night...

I wiped the haze from the window with my sleeve, to look at the street life, instead of watching the pathetic game of fancy words and unconscious expressions played around by the mare and the stallion, now sitting together. It would end up in sex, expectations and disappointments.

Now the streets - they were interesting - unlike the upscale glamour of postcard Canterlot, here in the downs of the valley, life flowed in a quite less expressive way, if you can say that. There were no flower beds under every window, and no marble sidewalks - and here I'm telling a lie; there was indeed some marble, although decades of dust made the tiles look more like shit stained floor behind a public toilet.

Here at the bottom line ponies weren't that rich, and those who had some money were very secretive about the source of their fortunes. Lower Canterlot was surrounded by a rusting belt of old brick buildings and abandoned warehouses. Tall chimneys protruded from a brass smelting facility and some adjacent factories; those monuments made up the foggy skyline of a tar pit we all called home.

Between a noisy coal-fired power plant and a parking lot, there was Caballero's street. He was the owner of this bar, and practically the whole block. He was an odd colt, not bigger than an average stallion, not different from other colts of his age, but with an ego largest than the own block of squeaky buildings he owned. Nino Caballero had a funny Italian accent, but the last guy who mocked his speech disappeared for a week, and returned without a tongue.

Well, I guess the cat ate that too.

Ponies from the upper neighborhoods looked at Lower Canterlot with an expression of fear, disgust, and morbid curiosity. They were afraid of the place's insalubrious atmosphere, but I dare to say that some of them silently urged for the freedom that only this part of the city could provide.

One day I heard Nino talking on the phone, which wasn't hard to do so, considering he practically screamed to the whole bar. There was a mare on the other side of the line, I presume, as he insistently repeated 'C'mon, nothing's gonna hurt you babe' with his phony voice.

Back to the present, a bartender complained about that pack of mares who were smoking their shit in the lounge area, while two grumpy stallions argued about a blackjack game. It was just another typical family night at Caballero's. Particularly, I thought it was annoying as fuck to hear such a cacophony of noises, when I just wanted to intoxicate myself alone. With alcohol, not pony weed or whatever.

Sighing, I slid my glass over the table, rolling my tongue and trying to discern the taste of my last dose. In the meantime, something rare happened to walk past the window, making me cough at the sight.

For some heavenly reason I was still to know, a magnificent unicorn mare had just decided to step into Caballero's Bar and Hotel.

Being on the last table, I had to tilt my head a little bit to have a better look at the sequence of events. Firstly her eyes seemed to scan the whole place, passing by the lobby and the front desk, not paying too much attention to the regulars around. She had a powerful aura of nobility following her steps, and wasn't giving a single fuck about the perverted stares she was receiving.

Whoever that mare was, she was very decided. Adjusting an embroidered scarf around her neck, she walked past every single table, eliciting mixed reactions from absolutely everyone. Nino wasn't around, and that was a good thing, because his ego would collapse like a barn under such circumstances.

As the failed attempt to become a painter I was, I didn't knew much about composition, I could however still notice when something was way too contrasting to be inserted in the painting. And that was the best thing I could formulate. It was not like the white mare didn't belonged to the bar - the bar was the thing 'not belonging'. Still, she seemed not to care, and took a seat on an empty table, right beside mine. A waiter came by almost instantly, and she motioned to a sealed glass cabinet behind the counter.

It was locked and dusty, because all the expensive liquors and drinks were stored there, and no one really had enough money to convince the barman to open it.

Obviously, it wasn't her case.

In a few minutes or so, the waiter returned with a bottle I had never seen before, and poured her some kind of lilac beverage. With a polite nod, and a few words, she convinced him to left bottle at her expense.

I honestly thought she would dive into her exquisite drink and finish that bottle all by herself, perhaps to forget another unfortunate relationship, or maybe just for the sake of doing it. To my surprise, she stayed as calm and sober as possible, slowly tasting that thing, not saying a word, despite all the creepy looks she was getting, including mine.

Personally, I was used to creepy stares, considering I was literally an otherworldly person. Let's not delve into boring details about wars, biased looks, dimensions and things that happened half a century ago or so; such details are unnecessary these days. As you already presumed, I am not a pony, and not anything from Equestria as well.

My father brought me here when things still mattered for both sides, and we've been living in Canterlot since then. Well, I can't speak for him, but I'm still alive, I guess.

I turned my attention back to the mucky table, the same old shit day after day. I wasn't quite fond of that place, or the city, or even the pony culture in general. I've always felt unwanted. When I was a kid, my mother frequently visited her sister, and even though she always said 'make yourself at home', I could never feel at home in such a disgusting place.

Caballero's bar was not as bad as auntie Ginny, but hell; I don't even know why I keep coming here. I think it became a personal tradition of sorts, one of those small things your mind gets used to, when there's nothing else to do.

"Ever tasted lilac wine?"

Something stopped inside of me when I heard that voice, and for a moment I thought I was imagining things. But no, it was just the white mare looking at me, and asking a seemingly simple question. I looked back at her in disbelief, kinda hiding behind my leather coat, moving a little bit closer to the edge of my seat. She was only a table or so away from me, and now that I had an excuse to turn around, I could see her face in detail.

"No, never." I said hesitatingly, not knowing how to proceed. I rubbed my neck like an idiot between the sentences. "Actually, I never thought we'd have this thing here in Caballero's" I added, staring for a moment at my cheap whiskey bottle.

"Oh well." She chuckled. "It's a quite rare find these days. My father brought two of them from Bulgaria, but that was decades ago. I knew Mr. Caballero had one of them somewhere, because his parents were good friends of my family. Unfortunately, they are not in this world anymore to tell the whole story." Touching the tip of her crystal glass with a hoof, she seemed to lost herself for a moment in her own memories. "Luckily, the lilac wine remains the same" She smiled.

That conversation was simply unreal. A nostalgic upper class mare comes to the underworld of Canterlot, to find a bottle of wine.

"Do you want some?" She asked with genuine intent. My brain overreacted for a second, and I tried not to ruin the moment with a nonsensical reply, like a shriek or some other awkward noise.

"Oh, I... I... I'm sorry Ms-"

"Fleur." She said, extending one of her white hooves to me. "Fleur de Lis"

For a few seconds or so, I held her delicate hoof in the palm of my hand, the whole bar stared at us, and even the smoke-covered mares dropped their cigarettes to contemplate that short, but unbelievable moment. When the weird guy from the last table, finally interacted with something else aside of his whiskey bottle.

"I'm Daniel Graff, I can't say my life is relevant enough for a talk, but I can try." I chuckled, Fleur chuckled, I sat on her table, we tasted lilac wine, we chuckled even more, the lilac wine was almost gone, it would be a beautiful night.

Canterlot Hills - 3:40 AM
02/10/19

My ears ringed like a bell, as another violet explosion burst through the wall, throwing pieces of furniture and glass shards all over my body.

I crawled through the endless corridors of the marble mansion, as Fleur hoofsteps clanged on the floor, echoing room after room. I ran as if my life depended on it - which in fact - depended.

I knew too much, she repeated, lifting dozens of absurdly large weapons from a hidden cabinet.

Another explosion, and the press was already out there, their flashing lights assaulting the broken windows like vultures surrounding a dying body.

"I'll kill you, Graff!"

Caballero's Bar - 2:27 AM
02/10/19

"Say, Graff-"

"Oh please, just Daniel... Not even my professors called me Graff." I giggled, as she poured more wine in my glass.

"Very well, Daniel." She said with heavy emphasis there. "What someone like you is doing in such a... Distinct place?" Fleur asked, moving a strand of her light-pinkish mane away from her face.

"You know, I was about to ask you the same question." It was sheer truth, fortunately or not. I was still perplexed.

"Well, I have my reasons; I was trying to find an important part of my father's collection. I had to come here. But you... An apparently healthy guy, by human standards." I felt a hint of disdain in that sentence, but since she was the hottest non-human being I had ever talked to, I pretended to ignore it.

"I like here." I lied. "You see, the atmosphere reminds me of my old city, back on Earth. I just, ah- love this magnificent... romantic... urban decadence feeling."

"You definitely have some peculiar tastes." She smirked. "I like this 'feeling' too. It's ironic because I was born and raised in quite traditional neighborhoods. But that was no fun." She waved dismissively. "I had many disappointments in my career, it's hard to believe-"

As I looked through a blurred window for a second, a large outdoor planted on top of a building, displayed none other than the mare by my side, in a red sparkling dress.

"Yeah, really hard to believe." I said.

"But fame can be frustrating, Daniel. Maybe one day you'll understand..." She filled our glasses again, nearly emptying the lilac bottle.

Canterlot Hills - Three Days Later

"Mr. Graff! Is it true that Ms. De Lis tried to kill you?" A microphone was pushed through the fence. "What about the magical thermonuclear gun, is it a reality?" He insisted.

"I have nothing to declare, leave me alone!" I pushed the reporters away as I made my way to the front door, rubbing my temples, trying to escape that hell, a flock of attorneys following my steps into the building.

"Right now we are in front of the Lis Mansion, where a scandal without precedent took place, the international police is investigating an alleged case of industrial espionage involving Daniel Graff, president of Borealis, a massive arms industry conglomerate, headquartered on Earth."

"Get out!" Something pink exploded in front of the massive group of reporters, as Fleur stared at me with an expression of pure rage.

"It's all your fault, Daniel, and you know that! To think I wanted to share a stupid drink with you..." She shook her head disappointingly. "Two explosions- two ridiculous explosions, and the royal guards appear." She sighed. "I just wanted to eliminate you, Danny- It wasn't supposed to be this hard."

Caballero's Bar - 2:30 AM
02/10/19

"Honestly Fleur, I doubt someone will ever notice me." I snorted. "It's not like I have any significance in the international community" As she looked at me from across the table, her eyes gazing at mine and somewhere beyond, an odd feeling took hold of me - like when you find something you wasn't supposed to find, and even though it means trouble, you keep going further.

"Well..." Fleur whispered "I noticed."

Author's Note

This story follows a slightly nonlinear aesthetic.

Not everything will make sense at this first stage.