The Last Impressionist

Chapters

Chapter 2: A Topic of Discussion
Chapter 3: Charity
Chapter 4: A Self-Portrait
Chapter 5: The Cat in the Lilies
Chapter 6: Friendly Talk under the Stars
Chapter 7: The Night Off
Chapter 8: A Study in Jealousy
Chapter 9: The Unfinished Double Portrait
Chapter 11: Pictures at the Exhibit
Chapter 12: The Picnic Behind Sunlight Falls.
Chapter 13: Stallion’s Night Out.
Chapter 14: Of Symphony and Sympathy
Chapter 15: The Portrait of Hoity Toity
Chapter 16: The Dinner from Tartarus
Chapter 17: A Nightly Stroll
Chapter 18: The Present
Chapter 19: The Auction
Chapter 20: Somewhere Beyond the Sea
Chapter 21: In the Land of the Rising Sun
Chapter 22: The First Step towards Enlightenment
Chapter 23: Of Water, Fire and Air
Chapter 24: Sound, Light and Thought
Chapter 25: The Parting Gift
Chapter 26: Dinner on the Observation Deck
Chapter 27: The Definition of Insanity
Chapter 28: Luna’s Bouquet
Chapter 29: Father’s Arrival
Chapter 30: Of Lord Night Light and Talk Therapy
Chapter 31: Lightning Falls
Chapter 32: Acrylic’s Gift
Chapter 33: Master Classes
Chapter 34: The Story
Chapter 35: Masterpiece
Chapter 1: Treasure in a Garbage Can
Chapter 10: Crucible on the Eighth Floor.

Chapter 2: A Topic of Discussion

Needless to say, I kept the painting. Now don’t misunderstand me, I don’t always take whatever artwork I find and place them in a gilded frame or on a pedestal. I only do so unless I really like the piece to where I would be more than proud to have it hung on the walls of my home. This means, that only a vast minority that does so end up in my collection, as a patron of the arts, I only do so to show off my guests that I do, in fact, have exclusive tastes.

“Tell me, Fancy,” Hoity Toity looked up at the painting from his dinner for the fiftieth time. “Where did you get that lovely piece of art from? Is it a late Moneigh?”

I looked behind me at the Impressionistic sunrise in my dining room. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Tell anyway,” the critic leaned back, picking up his cup of red wine, “I’m rather curious about it.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I honestly have no idea who it’s from,” putting my spoon into the broth of my soup, I added: “I found it the other night by accident.”

“How so?”

“Well Hoity, believe it or not, I found it in a garbage can.”

This got the stallion’s attention, “You can’t be serious!”

“I am, Fleur could testify to it too. We were on the way home when the driver went down the poor part of the city when suddenly we heard a bang and found this painting was thrown out of a window of one of those cheap apartment places. I jumped out and was able to save it from getting wet.”

Hoity looked up at the picture again, “Now why do you suppose anypony would do that? I mean, I would gladly pay the artist to have it hung in my mansion. For I’ll give you this Fancy, it’s intense, colorful and there’s a sort of depth to it with all its layers. Does it remind you of the masters of the Post-Impressionist movement?”

“It certainly has that feel, yes.” I agreed, “It’s not quite a Van Go, but it’s not a Moneigh either. This thing is something else entirely. It’s wild but elegant in its simplicity. You know, I wish I know more about this artist, and why he decided to throw it away.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“I heard a shout from that apartment building the moment after the thing was thrown away. It sounded like a very dissatisfied stallion.”

“That I don’t get at all,” Hoity put down his glass. “What’s wrong with the painting when it’s perfect as it is? Sure it’s a bit messy but isn’t many Impressionist paintings like that?”

“They are,” I nodded. “It’s quite a mystery to me too. Such as why has nopony had ever heard of this fellow before? Clearly, the chap’s got talent, it’s clearly there. In fact, I would be more than interested in seeing what other work he’s done.”

“As do I,” he agreed. “Perhaps you should probably look into it then. Go back to that place to see if you could find this painter and see if he has any patrons on hoof. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky.”

I raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean by that statement?”

“All I’m saying is that maybe you’ll be the first to claim this prospect like tapping into a goldmine. After all, there aren’t many Impressionist painters left in the world and us wealthy ponies wouldn’t mind buying a painting or two when there’s a good one alive.”

“Oh, I see,” after taking a gulp from my glass, a thought came to my head, “Suppose I can’t find this pony?”

“With quality like that, I think you should find him as soon as you can. After all, you said that you found this in the poorer regions of Canterlot, right? There might be a chance that he’s there because he doesn’t have many bits on hoof. So I suggest that you go find him quickly before he gets fed up and move somewhere else.”

I admit Hoity was indeed right, that painting was a rather lucky find. If I could just see what else this fellow has, perhaps he would be more than willing to cut a deal with me when he might be in financial trouble. “Very well then, I say this, tomorrow I will go back there to see if I could find this Impressionist to see what his situation is.”

“Splendid,” Hoity smiled. “Fancy, would you let me know when you found this gentlecolt? I’d be more than willing to meet this artist myself.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I had another spoonful of soup. “But I can’t give you any guarantees if I do find him, understand?”

“I know, but it would be interesting to see who he really is.”

_*_

Fleur was beside me as we entered the neighborhood where we found the painting. In the daylight, the street itself looked very grim. Rows of apartment buildings that look as if they’re nearly holding together, shouting matches taken place every couple of yards, foals playing in the middle of the street, and the neglect for garbage to be picked up.

“Fancy, are you absolutely sure about this?” she asks, “I don’t exactly like the looks of this place.”

“But I need to find our mysterious artist,” I said. “After all, I think the art world is missing out on a talented artist who lives right here in Canterlot but is unfairly going unnoticed. We have to try to see if we could locate him.”

Fortunately for us, we were able to find the apartment building that we passed by a couple of nights ago. Like the others, it was three floors tall, had cracked windows and was kept together with brick and mortar. Number Fifty-Six it was as it was displayed above the entrance of the front door. As we entered, we quickly located the office of the complex, in which we found a mare that was rugged as the building’s façade was.

“Yes? What do you want?” she asked.

Clearing my throat, I pulled out a card of my credentials, “Good morning ma’am, I’m Fancy Pants, are you the Landlord of this establishment?”

Raising an eyebrow, she looked between my card and myself, “I am, what’s it to ya?”

“I was hoping that if you happen to know any artists that are in the building? I’ve stumbled some artwork a few days ago, and I think that the pony I’m looking for might be here.”

“Artist?” she asked, putting a wrinkled hoof under her chin, “You know, I think I know who you’re talking about.”

Ah, now I’m getting somewhere, “You do?”

“Yeah, some painter who rented a room on the second floor, Uh… Acrylic Brush I think it was.”

“Is he here by any chance?” Fleur inquired.

“Well, he used to.”

I blinked, “I beg your pardon?”

“You just missed him; I had to kick him out yesterday. His rent was well overdue and he couldn’t pay up.”

My jaw hit the floor, “What!”

“Yeah, of course, he was upset when I had the police take his things to the curb, but he signed a contract that if he doesn’t pay up within three months, I had the right to evict him.”

“Where did he go?” Fleur asked.

The Landlord shrugged, “How do I know, I don’t keep track where everypony goes. Probably begging in the streets somewhere for all I care.”

Disgusted and angry, I only thanked the mare before leaving the apartment empty hoofed, “Now what?” my bodyguard asked.

“At least this time we have a name,” I said. “It may not be much, but I think given his last location and knowing his name, we might go to a detective to see if they could track him down.” I shook my head, “Unbelievable Fleur, I mean really! That poor artist is probably homeless and we no idea where he is.”

“Calm down sir, I think we should stick with the plan of hiring a detective to track him down. We can only hope that this Acrylic Brush is still in one piece somewhere.”

Chapter 3: Charity

As of now, it’s been three days since I found out that the artist, Acrylic Brush was kicked out of his place of residence. During that time, I’ve hired a private detective to see if he could find where this fellow has gone off to. In the meantime, I continued to do my job as always of being an art dealer.

I am laid back in my favorite chair in the study, going over the photographs of the latest paintings, sculptures, and fashion of the Avant Guard, jotting down tomorrow’s schedule for which artist I like to speak with versus those I can skip over. I tend to do my least favorite part of the job at the end of the day so I could get the unpleasantries out of the way before I retire to bed. All the while, a cup of smoked brandy is there on the desk to… assist me.

The door to the study opened up, and like clockwork, my butler arrives to ask the same question: “How are you this evening sir?”

Taking out the monocle out of my eye, I rubbed the weariness out from them. “I think I’m about ready to go to bed. Tell me, do you know the time, I think I’ve lost track of it.”

“It’s nearly ten Master Pants, would you like me to refill that before I give you my report.”

“No thank you, Gustave, let me finish filling this out then you can tell me.”

“Very good sir.”

A few minutes later of finishing up the given appointments for the next day, I asked him, “So what news do you have for me this evening?”

“To begin with Master Pants, I’m sorry to inform you that our second hoofcolt has turned in his resignation.”

This caught me by surprise, “Mr. Waxwork is leaving? Whatever for?”

“He said that while he appreciated working under you, he expressed that he’s being underworked and he said that he felt guilty for earning his payment for the lack of work he has to do. I think that for the short time, it’s best to give him a good reference before he leaves.”

I frowned, “That’s rather disappointing, and I was getting used to having him around given that he’s been here for three months. So I presume you’ve already given out the word to the newspaper of a job opening?”

“Of course sir, I’ve already written it and sent it over. They’ll be printing it by the morning.”

“I see,” lifting the bourbon with my magic, I asked, “anything else?”

“The private detective you’ve hired was at the door not too long ago and wanted me to give you a message.”

“Oh?” after a gulp, I inquired, “What did he find?”

“He wanted me to tell you, that there is some good news and bad news. The good news is that Mr. Brush is still in Canterlot, still alive and well. However, it would seem that he has fallen to an unfortunate state.” I asked him if he knew any details about it, “He said that he has spent the last several days in the back of restaurant, The Ninth Cloud in which he has found a hiding space to dig out scraps of food from the garbage. It would seem that he’s been trying to keep out of sight and has been hiding in the back of a dumpster. What else Mr. Brush has done is unknown.”

“Oh dear…” I leaned back in my seat. “The more I learn from this artist, the increasingly desperate the situation is becoming.” Looking down at the schedule I noticed a blank space in which nothing was written down. “Gustave, be sure that tomorrow morning to inform Fleur that I will need her with me at eleven-thirty to confront our mysterious artist.”

“Very good sir,” he nodded, “Will there be anything else?”

“Now that I think of it, yes, be also sure to let Lady Ruby that I might be late to lunch because I have an important matter that needs to be taken care of.”

_*_

On the next, windy day, by a body guard and I were at The Ninth Cloud in the eastern part of the city. The restaurant itself wasn’t exactly the gourmet, fine dining kind of place, it was more widely known as a place for tourists. Not to say that what they serve there is awful by any means, but it was alright in my book.

We stopped at the entrance to the alleyway of the establishment. As expected, it was unpaved, littered with years old rubbish and has a sense of unpleasantness from the narrow walls.

“Fancy, are you sure about this,” she asked, “I don’t like the look of this place.

“Neither do I, but we must see if we could really find the chap we’ve been looking for. Our detective said that he’s in the very back behind the dumpster. However, you are prepared with those spells of yours, aren’t you my dear?”

“Ready when you are,” she said as she was the first to step in. We walked around the muddy puddles of who-knows-what and made our way to the back where the smells of the food, both pleasant and revolting were at their strongest. There, between the brick wall of the restaurant and a tall wooden fence was the yellow dumpster. At its back, it was cluttered up remains of cardboard.

Indeed, the perfect hiding spot.

I cleared my throat, “Hello? Acrylic Brush, are you here?” No answer. “Mr. Brush, I need to speak with you.”

When there was no reply, Fleur looked at me before going towards the metal bin. Her horn grew brightly as her pink aura wrapped around the pieces of cardboard to be tossed aside. But just as she was getting at the last few boxes, there was a rustle and a crash from the other side. We both quickly look to see that a stallion fumbling on his back.

There were scratches on the pale red earth pony’s coat, his mane and tail were of dirty gray, and the poor chap’s blond eyes were in fear.

“G-Get away!” he cried, crawling on his back as we approached. “I-I told you, I don’t have any bits on me!”

“Calm yourself,” I said, “I’m not here for you for money. Nor am I going to hurt you.”

“What do you want?” his back was against the wall. It was here that I saw his cutie mark of three, squirting tubes of paint of red, yellow and blue with a paintbrush connecting all three in the center.

“Tell me, are you Acrylic Brush?”

“Yeah, so?”

It was here that Fleur took out the picture of the sun painting, “We want to know sir, did you make this?” She levitated the photo over to the stallion’s hoof.

He shook his head, “I thought I’ve thrown this away?”

“So, you did paint this?” I inquired.

“I know, I know,” he gave the picture back, “I’ve very much aware that it’s terrible.”

This took me by surprise, I looked at the picture, “Why do you think so?”

“I mean, look at it! The sea is so dark that I might as well paint it black. The sky is too dark of green, and the sun itself is a mess!”

“You really think that it’s that bad?”

“If my luck has proven me anything, that all those paintings I did are all worthless. Every, single, one of them just proves to me further how much of a frailer I really am.”

“Mr. Brush, do you honestly think that you’re a bad artist?”

He looked up at me, “Isn’t it obvious? When I’ve only sold one in my whole life? I know I’m bad at it, but it’s really the best I could do. Ha, so much for the dream of living off of my art huh? So who are you two anyway?”

“Well, my name is Fancy Pants, and this is Fleur de Lise,” I smiled, “We’re here to change your life.”

Acrylic scoffed, “Oh, hilarious, you rich ponies are here to help me? Look, I don’t know how you’ve found me or where you got that painting from, but I’ll tell you something that you clearly don’t know about me. The truth is I’m cursed, okay.”

My bodyguard raised an eyebrow, “Care to elaborate?”

“Everypony that ever tried to help me always ends up leaving. No matter how cooperative I’ve been, no matter how helpful I’ve always tried to be, everyone leaves in the end. My friends don’t want anything to do with me, my family doesn’t care for what lack of talent I have, the ponies that used to help me get the paints and canvases disappear off the face of the planet without telling me why, and all those promising buyers visit me only once, and never come back. So please, whatever it is you want, don’t waste your time on me.”

My, my, this really is serious. “Sir, I really do beg to differ. I saw that painting from several nights ago and I dare say that what you’ve made is a great work of art.”

He shook his head, “You’re lying.”

“No, no,” I sat across from him and put a comforting hoof on his shoulder, “Listen to me. I am known among the Canterlot elite for being one of the most influential ponies in the city that’s second to the Royal family. I am an art dealer of every kind from painting to fashion, so having a high taste in that said art is a priority for my job. Now, let me say that painting you’ve made is breathtaking. Nopony’s done such a masterful skill at the Post-Impressionistic style since the days of Veneigh van Gogh, Gauguin, and Moneigh! Acrylic, I am speaking the truth that I do believe that you have a wonderful talent from what I’ve seen. And I would gladly like to see more if there’re any around.”

“There aren’t, I’ve either thrown them away or donate them to those thrift stores. Chances are they’re still hanging there.”

Sighing, an idea came to my head, “What if I could give you a job?” This seemed to catch his attention, “Right now at my mansion, we have an opening for a hoofcolt that just quit yesterday.”

“What’s a hoofcolt?”

“In a nutshell, they’re a glorified waiter who cleans up the silver, set the tables, pass out the food, pour a drink and clear it. Also, they are to admit visitors who come to the door. In a way, they’re about rank or two under a butler.

“Mr. Brush, I think that in your current condition that you need a job and I’m more than willing to provide you for it. I’ll make sure that you’re trained by the staff in which they’ll give you some helpful tips here and there.”

Acrylic sat up, his ears stood right up, blinking, “You’re serious about this, all this because of a crappy painting?”

“I rather liked it. Now that I think about it, let me ask you something, for each of those paintings, how long does it take you to do one?”

The stallion scratched his head, “I don’t know… two hours at most if I had everything I needed. Why?”

“Because, I was hoping if you could make more for me? I’ll allow you to paint anything you want, landscapes, cityscapes, still lifes, portraits, anything you want. If you agree to take up the job, you’ll be provided for food, a place to sleep, and I’ll even throw in canvases, brushes, and whatever paint you need. Along with the spare time you need when you feel the urge to paint. So please, let me help you.”

The artist was skeptical of this offer, “But I’ve only made one painting that you’ve seen. How could you like what I do when you haven’t seen any of my other works?”

“An excellent question,” I smiled, “How about we give you a test run? If I like the next painting you do, I’ll personally commission you to paint as much as you like. However, even if I don’t, be rest assured that you’ll still have a job, either way, to get you back on your hooves.”

Even with a raised eyebrow, he offered his hoof up to me, but before I could shake it, he drew it back, “Don’t shake, unless you mean it.”

Well, I certainly did, “Now come along, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

Chapter 4: A Self-Portrait

It’s been hours later that Acrylic Brush has been cleaned, fed, and has been measured for his hoofcolt uniform. So far, he has been acquainted with the staff that was conducted by Gustave, given him what was to be expected of him and the house rules that he has to follow.

Dinner has already been over, and in my study, I’ve already prepared a test for the stallion. In front of the open window is a canvas, a little table that upheld acrylic paints of a wide range of colors, a paintbrush, a pencil and a cup of water. My butler was thoughtful to place newspapers over this work area in case any of the paint would drip on the wooden floor.

It is now seven-fifteen when there was a knock on the door before Gustav stepped out, “Sir, Mr. Brush is here as you requested.”

“Let him come in,” I got out of my chair. Going around the desk, the artist I wanted to see stepped right in. Even without the uniform, I daresay that he looked tremendously better after a bath, shave and a mane cut, “Good evening Mr. Brush.”

He nodded, “Good evening Mr. Pants.”

I snorted, “Now, now, you’re not on duty. Fancy would do just nicely. I daresay you look tremendously better than when I found you.”

Acrylic looked past me and over to the blank canvas that stood on a tripod. “What’s this?”

“Ah, right to the point. I like that,” trotting over I bid him follow. “Since I was very impressed with the sun over the sea painting, I was hoping to see first hoof of what you’re capable of doing.”

Looking over, I saw his expression grew to worry, “Uh… y-you mean you want me to paint? Right now?”

“Well, that’s one reason why I asked you up here, and the other is I wanted to get to know you.”

The fellow walked up to the table where he observed the varieties of color jars before him “Are you sure?”

“I’m curious to tell you the truth,” I turned to my desk to the flask of brandy was. “May I offer you a drink?” He shook his head, but I poured myself a glass. “As I’ve said, you’ll still have the job and the lodgings, even if your painting turns into a disaster. But while you’re painting away, I want to have a friendly chat to get to know who you are.”

He looked at the paints before looking back up to me, “And… all of these are acrylic paints, right?”

“Just as you’ve asked, they have the finest quality that I could find. I will stay true to my word that you can paint whatever you want with them.” I returned to my cushioned seat, “Begin whenever you’re ready.”

Acrylic looked around the room, deep in thought. I could see, like a general that his mind was carefully planning out and considering what options he had within the room. He looked out the window but shook his head, and then he scanned the study from the books, the busts of historical figures, and the fireplace until he looked at me.

“Fancy Pants,” he asked, “would you mind if I did your portrait?”

I raised an eyebrow, “Have you done portraits before?”

He nodded, “I have… although I don’t think they’re any good. But… maybe this time I could…” the fellow looked at me, went left and right to view me at several angles. Looking, studying me, “It might work. Mr. Pants, would you allow me to paint you?”

Chuckling, I took a sip from my brandy, “Why sir, I’m flattered. I would love to pose for you. Would you like me sitting here or standing up?”

“I don’t think you’ll have to stand. I could paint to your withers up.” Acrylic tilted his head, “I could use the color of the wooden walls behind you as a backdrop. Fancy, if you could move to the side- no! Too far, move a little towards me… a little more… a little more. There. Just keep your face forward and look at me…” When I did this, he looked at me for a moment before nodding. “Yes… Yes, this can work.”

Immediately, he began his work. Adjusting the tripod until I could only see the backside of the canvas, Acrylic picked up the pencil, studied me once more before he started to sketch me down. From what I can hear, there’s an inconvenient rhythm as his pencil drew out the outline of me. This went on for about two minutes before he placed his pencil down.

Then he selected several jars from the table: smoky gray; eggshell white, titanium white, dark violet, royal blue, light blue, charcoal black, Dijon mustard, Alizarin brown and deep crimson. He first unscrewed the gray, dark violet, black and brown and immediately began to paint.

“How old are you sir?” I asked.

“Me? I’m thirty-one. My birthday won't happen until February. What about you?”

“Thirty-seven, although I think that the mustache helps me look a little older than that, wouldn’t you say?”

“Really? You’re actually about five years older than me?” he leaned over from the canvas, “No offense, I thought that you were somewhere in your late forties or so.”

I chuckled, “Yes, I often to do get the impression from other ponies. Perhaps it’s the stress of the job that makes me older than I really appear.”

“I have the opposite problem,” he said, “I remember others telling me that they thought I was in my twenties. I don’t know what it is through that makes ponies think like that.”

“Perhaps you have a bit of a coltish face that gives you that youthful appearance. I’m a bit jealous at that.” He hid back behind the canvas, moving onto another color. When he didn’t respond, I decided to change the subject, “Why do you favor painting in acrylics?”

“To be honest, I hate painting in oils,” Mr. Brush popped his head to the side, “I tried it several years ago to give it to my two sisters for Hearth's Warming. The moment I started painting with them, I immediately despised the stuff.”

I laughed, “How come? Oils are popular in the art world.”

“For two reasons, they have a weird smell that lingers on for weeks, and they take forever to dry. Why I started painting those two pictures as soon as winter hit, but by the time Hearth's Warming came around, they were still wet even when I thought they were dry!”

“Oh dear, I hope those paintings weren’t altered in any way.”

“I don’t think they were. However, I haven’t really seen either of those since that day, so Celestia knows what became of them now.”

“Where are you from, if you mind of me asking?”

“Originally? I’m from a town that chances are, you might never hear of. It’s on the shores of the South Luna Ocean called Lightning Falls. The place has an opal mine which is pretty much how that town is still going. By the time I’ve left, there was talk about whether or not it should make itself part of Equestria. So in other words, I’m kinda a foreigner here.”

“So, I’m guessing you came here for economic opportunities?”

I heard him sigh, “Well, yeah. That was the original idea. I heard about this thing called the Equestrian dream that was told in the town. Where over there, you can be anyone you want if you just worked hard. A place where the fields are bursting with grain, the cities have streets that are paved in gold, and no matter what you wanted to do in life, you can have it here.”

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the clopping of hooves from the open window and the frantic brushing on the canvas.

“So what happened?” I asked.

“When I came here, I had a dream that I could make a name for myself if I just worked hard enough. I came here and used so many of my bits on canvases, paints, and brushes. From Applewood up to here, I painted away at everything I saw. From the rolling fields to ponies that was once kind enough to let me stay for the night. I’ve lost count how many I’ve painted, but the more I did, the less I was noticed. In fact, I think I’ve told you that I was able to sell only one painting in this country didn’t I?”

I nodded, “You said something on those lines I believe.”

“Could you guess how much I was paid for that one painting?” I shook my head, “Twenty bits. After all the work I’ve put in for, I got enough to pay for a single lunch. That was it. As I neared here, I came to realize a sad truth, that the whole ‘work hard until you succeed’ is a myth.”

“Well, I beg to differ. Since I was a teen, I had helped with my father run his business tha-”

“Was your father successful?” he interrupted.

“Of course he was. What does that got to do with anything?”

“You see, Mr. Pants, by the time I ended up at that apartment in the poorest side of the capital when I’ve talked with other ponies who are in the same situation as I am, we’ve all came to the same conclusion.”

“And what is that, pray tell?”

“Unlike me, you have to be invited to success,” he told me. “I’ve often found that the most successful ponies in history are often times invited to be successful. Tell me, did you in your life have to work long hours, or have to conserve a good portion of your bits so you could have a place to sleep, or found that whatever job you worked at will never pay your way to the good life? Or did you happen to know somepony that is successful, like your dad, for instance, to become the well-respected, wealthy pony that you are?”

I… I couldn’t say anything. As much as I don’t want to admit it, he was right. I never had to work long hours, nor conserve my money, nor had a job that didn’t pay the bills.

Another sigh escaped from him, “Don’t think of me as belittling you Fancy Pants, it’s just… I’m jealous of you. Forgive me, but you have the very life that I know now that I can never have. You’re respected, you have a bodyguard, a mansion full of servants, and you have a job of doing what you love and getting rewarded for it. You, sir, are perhaps the luckiest pony that I’ve ever met, and I’m… just a stupid pony that hardly knows how to paint.”

“So I take it that you’ve never taken an art class?”

“Look at me; do I really even look like the kind of pony that could afford to go to an art class, least of all a university? Yeah, I’ve quickly found out that nopony would consider hiring you unless you have a piece of paper that tells everyone that you’re smart.”

“You mean you’re uneducated?”

“No. I can read, write and do some arthritic. But that’s as far as it goes. Like if you asked me what seven subtracted by four is, then I would tell you it’s… it’s three. But if you asked me something like… what lead Luna becoming Nightmare Moon? Then for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you because I don’t know. Besides, I’ve always leaned to making art anyway… even when it’s not that good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

All of a sudden, he stopped painting, “I’m done, sir.”

I blinked, “Already?”

“Well…” Acrylic’s ears folded back and his cheeks took on a reddish shade. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure,” I got up from my chair, “Let me see it.”

While the artist stepped away, I went around it to see the still wet painting. What I found… astonished me. Against a background of a swirling chocolate brown, dull gold and crimson, it was me that although my face was angled away, my eye looked towards the viewer. Fluent lines like ripples of a puddle waved about on my suit of black and gray strokes and curved along my gray and white face. My mustache, eyebrows, and mane were in several hues of violet, blues, and white that tumbled about like river water. There was also a thin line of blue, no doubt part of my monocle, gracefully drifted down to my breast pocket. But the most captivating part was the eye that stared right back. Oh, it was as if one was looking at a miniature picture of a sea around the iris.

I must say it’s… wonderful!

Beautiful brushstrokes!

Intense colors that unite in harmony!

A ma-

“Is it not good?” Acrylic’s voice snapped me back to reality. I was taken back at the question as I looked up to him; his expression was drowning in uncertainty. “How bad is it?”

I could only look dumbfounded between the portrait and him, looking back and forth at what he had created. But, I was able to give him my answer, “Acrylic, it is miraculous.”

Chapter 5: The Cat in the Lilies

There is a bit of a ritual in Canterlot, in that whenever a pony of power, influence or great wealth comes to one’s home to spend the night, all those in the house, including myself, would all line up before the front door when that said pony arrives.

In the light of the afternoon sun, I stood on the very steps of my home while the servants lined up on the sidewalk for his arrival. When news that he arrived at the station was heard, I gave the order to fall in and wait. A few minutes later, the coach rounds the corner being driven by four intimidating ponies. The expensive carriage of expensive wood slowed to a halt before us in which the drivers unhooked themselves and let the pony of honor out.

Stepping out was an old stallion of a familiar white coat, gray beard and a dark expensive suite along with a gray shorthair cat with white paws that leaped out. With a smile, he called out to me, “Fancy, it’s so good to see you once more.”

I nodded, “Afternoon father. How was your trip?”

“Oh it was quite wonderful, Neighpon was very beautiful when all the cherry blossoms out.” The gray cat rubbed against the elderly stallion’s foreleg. Chuckling, he commented, “Saaya had a nice time too. I’ve brought you gifts I want to show you.”

“Father, you know you didn’t ha-”

“But I insist Fancy; I’ve bought these with you in mind.”

I turned to the hoofcolts, “Mr. Nocturne, Mr. Brush, will you retrieve my father’s belongings and place them in the first guestroom?”

“Right away sir,” they both said in unison as they went up to the coach drivers to pick up the steamroller suitcases.

Father went walked up to me to give me a nuzzle, “Still, it’s very good to see you again,” then I looked down as I felt the old cat rubbing itself on both of my forelegs, “Saaya misses you too.”

“How are you now?”

“Getting better, I think that trip did me some good.” As he said this, I saw his eyes drift to the side as both of the hoofcolts carried the suitcases up the steps. “Is it me, or have you got a new servant?”

“Oh, you must have noticed Acrylic Brush. Yes, he’s quite new.”

“How long has he been here?” he asked as we entered into the mansion.

“I think about a week and a half. The poor fellow was in such a desperate situation, and since the last hoofcolt quit, I decided to give the position to him.”

“Really now?”

“Excuse me, sir,” this time, it came from the Artist. “I was wondering after I bring Tweedy Pants belongings upstairs, would it be possible to allow me to paint right after?”

“Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking of painting the flowers in the garden sir.”

“That would be perfect actually. Do me a favor, once you get done, run downstairs and tell Ms. Copperpot to run some tea?”

“Yes sir,” he nodded and trotted up the staircase.

All the while, I confess, I did take a quick glance at his… physique as he carried the suitcase up with him. Then hearing my father clearing his throat helped snapped my attention, “Hm, yes?” My father had an eyebrow raise, “What?”

“Oh nothing, I was just finding it interesting that you hired that bloke out of, as you say, ‘desperate situation’ and suddenly you were looking at his backside.”

My eyes flew open wide and I think I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, “It’s not like that!”

“I’ll take your word for it son. I have an idea, why not we have tea in the garden? That way I can get the chance to see what this fellow is like.”

“Actually, I had the same idea. I say that you’ll know how I came across him.”

I lead my father to the back of the mansion where the garden was. Although not as massive and impressive compared to the Royal Gardens, the one I have is still a pleasure to the eye. Being late spring, there’s plenty of greens that grow among the flowers. There were gravel pathways, a small pond in the center, a Classical statue there, a Sundile there, trimmed bushes that spiraled, and near the kitchen a patch of herbs and spices for the cooks. There was also a cast iron table with a pair of chairs in which I offered my father a seat.

“Thank you,” he said sitting down. “Now I’m curious about the new hoofcolt, how did he come to your attention?”

“By a lucky accident,” I said sitting down, “I happened to have spotted a painting that he made being thrown in the trash and I saved it before the rain could have ruined it.”

“So he’s an artist?”

“Yes quite, since he’s coming out here to paint, I figured we get ourselves a front row seat as he works. Anyway, it took a while to find him, and the poor fellow had ended up taken residence behind a dumpster, completely homeless and without a job. He’s not a drunk or anything salacious (as far as I know) but has fallen on very hard times.”

“In other words, you hired the bloke because you felt sorry for him and you happened to have an opening?”

“In order for him to get him back on his hooves.”

Father chuckled, “You still have your mother’s sense of charity.”

“However,” I added, “from what I’ve seen, he really is a talented painter. Why I think I’ve discovered a master of Post-Impressionism that’s working under my roof! You should really see what he could do since I feel that this stallion has plenty of promise.”

“Now that makes sense, be the first in line for the picking,” my father nodded. “Anyway, since I’m here, I was hoping if I could talk to you while we’re waiting for our tea.”

“About?”

“Your future.”

“Oh,” I scoffed, “not this again.”

“Fancy,” he said with a voice of seriousness, “I’m only concerned about you and the legacy of this house. Now, I’ve come to grips about you… attractions and I have no say in who in particular you should end up marrying. But you’re in your late thirties and you should seriously consider these sorts of things.”

Saaya meowed from under the table; father put a hoof to pet its head. “Father, I understand completely in what you’re trying to get at. But for me, it’s much easier said than done. As far as I can see, I don’t really see anyone in Canterlot that isn’t going to guarantee me that I won’t end up in a miserable marriage. Nor could I see any clues from any other pony that doesn’t involve money.”

“Perhaps you ought to be on the lookout for a pony that’s humble. Such a trait can go a long way in the long run. Preferably, of course, as long as that said pony has some kind of reputation.”

I couldn’t help but rolled my eyes, “Does happiness count as a noble trait as well?”

“Of course. It’s just reasonable that you get married to somepony, being male or female, that is known for contributing something positive to the general, and elitist public. I’m not asking if they’re rich, just someone that has a good track record, so to speak.”

“Father,” I quickly decided to change the subject, “How long are you going to be here?”

“Only for tonight before going back to Trottingham, after all, I still have to give you your gifts.”

“Sir,” Acrylic’s voice spoke up, we turned to find the stallion was carrying the tea tray on his back, “the tea you requested.”

“Thank you Acrylic,” I said, “You may bring out your equipment out here and begin painting when ready,”

With a bow, the stallion returned to the mansion and came back with the tripod, canvas, and the bag of brushes and paints. But as soon as he came out, Saaya had stopped him in his path in which the fellow did the most curious thing. As soon as the cat looked up at him, Acrylic took a step back and bowed to it before the feline went into the garden.

“I say Acrylic, what was that about?” I asked.

“Well, where I come from Mr. Pants,” he said as he slowly examined the flowers, “the Felines are considered sacred to us.”

“Really, cats are sacred to you?” my father asked with intrigue.

“From my town, they are. I grew up west of Equestria, just above the South Luna Ocean that we have, I guess what you call, a little cult that worships the blessed Felines.” He paused over the Lilacs but then shook his head before moving onto the next patch of flowers. “We consider them to be spirits in the flesh that keep other evil spirits away. So ancestors like mine made a deal with them, that in exchange for giving us good luck, we leave out offerings of scraps on the steps of the front door and allow them to come and go in our houses as they please.”

“Now that’s quite fascinating,” father said. “So you believe that Saaya over there is a spirit that provides good luck?”

“I know so,” he then came to the patch of Lilies where the cat was. It was laying belly down on the dry earth, licking its paws in the shade of the flowers. Acrylic looked down at the gray feline for a moment, “Blessed Saaya, with your permission, may I paint you beside the flowers?” the cat only looked up at him before returning to cleaning his paws.

Apparently, he took it as a yes because he immediately set the tripod on the spot. He sketched away like mad of father’s pet as it laid there in the sun. Soon enough, father got up out of his seat to get a closer look at the canvas, taking his cup with him.

I did the same as well, and by the time I was standing at his side, he’s already picked up the first jar of paint and had begun to attack the canvas in an earthy brown around the cat.

“How are you getting along with this new job, Mr. Brush?” my father asked.

“At least I’m getting some bits for the first in a long time,” he said. “Your son has been awfully kind to me. I am grateful that he allows me some time to paint.”

“And how long have you been painting?”

He shrugged as he moved onto the next color, a deep turquoise, “I think since I was… Twenty-two gives or take.”

“He’s thirty-two now,” I informed him, “Which means that he’s been painting for ten years.”

“Or at least, when I get the chance,” Acrylic added.

Father and I watched after the green was applied, that he moved onto the dull yellow for the flowers before he used a dark purple and gray for Saaya. Once the first layer was applied, he moved on to lighten up the picture with shades of orange, lighter greens, lively yellows, gray and eggshell white. His brushstrokes added more depth; one shade of color was stacked on top of another. Dashes of deep violets and blues were added in places of shadow, the flowers brighten up with each touch, the green stems were given texture, and the cat itself… looked like it was at peace with the universe. Its forepaws crossed with its head lying down. Eyes closed, it seemed to have fallen asleep in the warm light while Saaya’s fur moves gently in a never-ending breeze.

My father looked on as one layer of paint was quickly followed by another. Looking between the cat and the painting, he was silent the whole time, taking sips of tea every so often. I peeked over to see that he was impressed.

When Acrylic stepped back, I put a hoof on his shoulder, “Well done Mr. Brush! Another masterpiece!”

However, he only shook his head, “It’s… okay.”

I sighed, “Acrylic, dear chap, you ought to give yourself more credit. This is good, very good.”

“I don’t know… the head looks a little funny.”

“I like it,” Father said with a smile, “Actually… I like it a lot. There’s almost a… Picasso kind of feel to it but has all the color of a Van Gogh wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed,” I nodded, turning to the artist. “Admit it, you did excellent today.”

“It could be better.”

“Acrylic, it's fine as it is. You’ve done a wonderful job at it.”

Acrylic didn’t reply as he was looking down at Saaya that walked out of the lilies and was coming towards father to once again rub against him. “Shall I place this in the attic to dry sir?” he inquired.

“You may,” I patted his back; he carefully placed the painting on his back, bowed to the cat before leaving.

We returned to the cast iron table in which father commented, “Fancy, I must agree with you on one aspect. That bloke has talent alright; I think you ought to keep an eye on him because I can see one day he’s going to give the world something to talk about.”

“Well, of course, I know that,” I confessed to him, “But what’s frustrating is that he doesn’t see that. I know he has all the talent right there at his hooves. Yet, he thinks that he’s nothing special, even with his talent. The poor bloke is never satisfied with his work no matter how good it really is.”

“How peculiar,” father leaned back, “has he been painting ever since you gave him the job?”

“Every single day, he has painted still lives, a hoofful of portraits, and even a view of the street. They’re incredible, but to him, all he’s created is nothing but rubbish.”

“So he doubts his talents then,” he asked and I nodded. “Have you thought of any way to cheer up his spirits?”

“There are two reasons why I having him paint, one is to be used as a kind of therapy to help him recover from his melancholy. But the other, I’m planning to give him a bit of a surprise.”

“Oh?”

I leaned over and whispered, “I’m planning to hold a premiere of his works to give him the attention that has been so long denied. I bet within a month, I’ll have more than plenty to show them.”

By now, Saaya was purring as it hopped onto father’s lap, “That would be interesting I’m sure. So tell me, how is he been to you?”

“Mr. Brush? Well, he is very straightforward, if I dare say. He’s been honest, grateful, and is very quick to learn at maintaining this new job.”

Father stroked the cat’s fur in thought, “Fancy, if I was you, I might want to interact with this fellow more often. He seems like a nice stallion to be with.”

I raised an eyebrow, “What are you implying?”

“From what I’ve seen, perhaps it might be worth it to look into Mr. Brush a little more.”

Frowning, I said, “Father, I don’t think it’s wise to so much as ask him out on a date without knowing if he’s even interested in doing so.”

He shrugged, “You never know. Oh, and one more thing."

"What?"

"Get a cat," he sipped his tea, "With a fellow that worships cats, I think it would be interesting."

Chapter 6: Friendly Talk under the Stars

After dinner, father presented his presents to me he got from Neighpon and retired to bed advising me to consider what he said in the garden. Once I had all of my work and made up the schedule for the next day, I decided to retire for the night. As I was leaving my study and headed to my room, I asked my butler to have Mr. Brush to assist me in my nightly ritual since I decided that I wanted to talk with him.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door in which I found the stallion balancing a tray on his back, “You sent for me sir?”

“Mr. Brush, come right in,” he followed into my bedroom. It was on the top floor where it had a pair of glass doors that lead to the balcony, a four post bed with the canopy of blue, a phonograph that lay at the very end of the bed, a couple of nightstands, and a two-hundred-year-old desk.

“Where should I put this?”

“You can put it on the desk, but mind the papers.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Acrylic, pour yourself a glass too,” I told him as he places the tray on the desk.

“What is it?”

“It a lemonade that I like, I picked it up from Braezil and added some mint to it.” He looked at between me and the yellow picture. “There isn’t any alcohol in it unless you want some in your drink.”

“No sir, I’ve always hated the taste of it so I tried to stay away from it.”

“But pour our glasses and let’s go out into the balcony, I want to talk to you.”

He tensed up, “A-Am I in trouble?”

“Oh no, nothing of the sort, I just want to have a friendly chat is all.”

Mr. Brush did pour two glasses of the lemonade, in which I grabbed one with a gold aroura of magic. He followed me out the door and into the starry night where we are above the street. Although there were clouds here and there, the crescent moon stood majestically above the palace on the mountainside.

“What do you want to talk about Mr. Pants?”

“I wanted to check up on you to see if everything is alright with you.”

He blinked, “I don’t understand.”

“Let me rephrase it this way, are you happy being here?”

Acrylic looked down at his drink, “I’m not exactly sure myself. I guess I feel many things, gratitude for you giving me this job, bits now coming in, at least I can send a letter telling my parents that things are, hopefully, getting better.”

“Why do you say that?” I took a sip.

He sighed, “How do I know that this would even last? From my journey over here, I’ve become quite acquainted with disappointment. First when my parents didn’t think much would come from my painting, then friends who said would help only did so for a little time until they suddenly decided not to, and then there are all the ponies that once took an interest in me only to be distracted with something else. So, Fancy Pants, how do I know that you won’t leave too?”

“Because I’m confident that you have a future,” I took another sip. “I don’t know what else to say that would help, but as cliché and overdone as this is going to sound… I really do believe in you.”

“That’s what I find it hard to believe,” he said before taking a careful sip of his glass. “Hm… This is really good.”

“Told you so,” I smiled.

“Anyway,” Mr. Brush cleared his throat, “I can’t really tell you how long it’s been that somepony has given me a compliment, and really meant it.” He looked up at the sky, “Do you think that Princess Luna is just showing off?”

I looked up too, “How so?”

“In a way, I envy her that she can create variations of the exact same thing for thousands of years and nopony could ever get tired of it. She’s the real artist you know. That she can effortlessly create something timeless… how do you think that anyone, least of all me, could compete with that?”

“The thing about artists is that they provide a snapshot of how they see the world and put into something as permanent like stone, words, or even paint for all time. Tell me, just by looking up, how do you see the sky?”

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow, “That’s a weird question.”

“No it’s not, tell me if you were to put what you see on canvas, how would you describe it?”

Acrylic looked up at the sky for a long time, “You know how ponies just look up and see nothing but a black vale with tiny dots all around? If you really look at it, you’ll find it’s not true. The darkness itself isn’t black at all, it’s a very deep violet, over there by the castle, there are lines of blue, over there, a lighter blue, and by those buildings, a forest green. The stars themselves aren’t just white dots but they glow like flowers in a field of brass and yellow. Even the moon has more than just white but crimson and orange. Colors floating, twisting, turning, stumbling and getting up again like a sea.”

I looked up at the sky as he describes it, imagining it too of those brushstrokes that breathed in the evening air, “Now that Mr. Brush, is something that ought to be kept preserved. You make something as ordinary as this seems heavenly.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see a touch of light pink on those cheeks, “I could only wish I could live in that world too.”

After spending a moment in the quiet of the night, each of us drinking from our lemonades, I decided to change the subject. “Could I ask you a personal question?”

“How personal is personal?”

“Very. Have you ever had a special somepony?”

He raised an eyebrow at this, “Why are you asking me for?”

“For a topic of friendly discussion,” I said.

After downing the rest of the lemonade, he answered, “I’ve given up on love a long time ago.”

Now, this has gotten me curious, “Oh?”

“Fancy, I’ve already accepted the fact that I’m cursed. Nopony wants anything to do with me. For someone that deals with, as you called, Impressionism, I don’t really make much of an impression on anypony. Besides, even I wouldn’t blame anyone from not even asking me out on a date. I’m a failed artist, cursed, and an overall freak to everyone I meet.”

“Well, I can relate.”

He blinked… and blinked again, “How?”

“Don’t go speaking about, especially my father, but I think I find it difficult for me to find a lover that’s guaranteed to be there by my side. For you see, I have the opposite problem. I’m very influential in Canterlot because I fund art and fashion alike. Basically, I dictate the taste of the upper-crust. Believe me, I had so many ponies over the years that… to put it elegantly, wanted to bed me so I could fulfill whatever agenda they have. From promoting their art shamelessly or simply get money out of me. Not to mention it’s really hard to find any mare or stallion that’s honest with me through and through.”

There was an uncomfortable silence between us; I looked to see what the matter was. I found Acrylic showed no emotion, “Stallions?”

“Yes, is something wrong?”

“When you say ‘stallions,’ do you mean that they… tried to bed you too?”

“Of course that’s what I meant. You don’t have anything against it, do you?”

He looked away until I couldn’t see his face, “So… you… you didn’t happen to… like some of them back… right?”

“For some, I did,” he turned around, “although I was betrayed afterward to find that their feelings towards me were false. But I was attracted to them.”

There was another tense silence, “So y-you’re… like… me?”

I blinked, “Beg your pardon?”

He placed his glass down on the stone rale. “Mr. Pants, can you promise me that, what I want to tell you that you won’t repeat to anypony from downstairs… w-would you?”

“You can trust me Acrylic.”

Looking at the bedroom door, he lowered his voice, “I… I thought I was alone. Since I was a teenager, I wondered why is it that I don’t really care for the fillies in my town then I do with the colts. I never dared brought it up thinking what would happen if I told anypony that I’m not exactly normal. As much as I tried, I just couldn’t see the appeal towards the gentle sex. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me or why I want to… go to bed with my own gender. And considering that I never knew another like me, I thought I was completely alone in this. Until now.”

Oh dear. Oh dear sweet Celestia, this much, much worst than I thought. Putting a hoof on his shoulder, I said, “Acrylic, I want you to look at me in the eye and hear what I have to say.” He obeyed, “Now listen to me very carefully. There is nothing, I repeat, absolutely nothing wrong with you. Although it may seem that you’re alone, you’re not at all. There are thousands of ponies like you and me, each as diverse in taste in gender like every shade of your paintings. You have nothing to be ashamed of for holding this attraction. It doesn’t make you any less of the pony you are. There is no demon, or mental disorder, or whatever that’s controlling how you feel towards the same gender. The only thing you get to choose is the pony you want to spend the rest of your life with that you feel an attraction towards. You, sir, are not alone.”

With tears in his eyes that he tried so hastily to wipe away, he asked, “You… you really mean that?”

“You’re in Equestria now, where although there aren’t enough couples out there to make it the norm, nopony would mind who you decide to date, who to go to bed with, even who to marry.”

“Does anypony from downstairs know about your… attraction?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Of course they do! Even Gustave knows that I’m Pansexual.” He tilted his head and asked me what that was, “Well, to put it in plain Equestrian: it means that I’m attracted to all genders which include; male, female, even transgender ponies as well. For me, personally, I tend to let the personality of the pony dictate who I like.”

Mr. Brush looked down at his hooves, “Even for somepony like me?”

“Acrylic, I’m going to make something clear here. Even while knowing that you lean towards the rougher gender, I can’t say that I’m seeing you as a lover... for the time being. At the moment, I'm trying to get to see you as something other than a stallion that believes he’s a walking tragedy. But for now, I want us to get to know each other as friends. For I cannot push you into anything without your consent, for if you want me to be your friend and employer, I will continue to do so, however, if you feel that you want to have a date with me… then I have no objection to the matter. So to answer the question you have in mind, I think it’s still a little too early to determine what I feel about you personally. But Acrylic, even if you don’t feel any romantic inclinations towards me, I won’t stop you. I really do wish that you find some happiness, besides, I think you’ll be quite the hit among the gentlecolts.”

He blushes harder as he asked, “W-Will there be anything else, sir?”

“I think I can dress for bed so, no, that will be all Acrylic.” Taking the empty glasses, he went into the room to fetch the tray as well. Before he could reach the door, I added, “Oh and Mr. Brush, if there’s anything you want to talk to me about, you’re free to do so with me anytime.”

“I… I’ll keep that in mind, sir… and you wouldn’t tell anypony from downstairs about me?”

“Only if you feel comfortable to say otherwise,” with that, he exited the room – leaving me standing outside, looking at the artist’s starry night.

Chapter 7: The Night Off

There are a few things about living the high life that has both its advantages and disadvantages. For example, spending your meal at one of Canterlot’s restaurants that have been serving years of award-winning food (that hasn't been touched by Zesty Gourmand) is undoubtedly incredible. However, when that said meal is spent with ponies that you don’t exactly want to be around, it is a different story.

Take for instance the couple sitting across from me: to my left, Jet Set; and to my right, Upper Crust. Or as I secretly nicknamed them: Mr. Pride and Mrs. Prejudice.

“The opera was interesting,” Upper Crust said, picking up a leaf from her salad in her aura. “The music was divine but the execution of the stage setup and choreography was peculiar.”

“I thought that it went too long,” Jet Set agreed. “I think I fell asleep around the second act.”

“You didn’t get the chance to see ‘La Morte Della Stella,’ have you, Fancy?”

I shook my head, trying to keep a polite, listening look on my face, “I’m afraid I haven’t gotten the chance to do so. Is it something you would recommend?”

“Oh heavens no,” Mrs. Prejudice rolled her eyes, “I think the only thing to look forward to that show is the water they sell between intermission.”

“I’d rather listen to one of Prince Blueblood’s speeches then hear that opera again,” Mr. Pride concurred. “But what about you Mr. Pants, have you been doing anything interesting lately?”

I sighed, “Oh, I’ve been keeping myself busy and what not. Father was here a while ago on the way back to Trottingham. He brought a few things from his recovery trip in Neighpon.”

“Like what?” the mare asked, picking up the glass of red wine.

“Well, apart from the expensive tea mixes that I’m saving for a rainy day, he brought home some traditional tapestries that I’m still trying to figure out where to put them. Three of them in fact: one is a panda, another is a warrior painted on black velvet, and the last is… what’s that word again? Oh I know, a geisha.”

Upper Crust raised an eyebrow, “Aren’t they Neighponie prostitutes?”

I frowned, “Not quite, they’re more like traditional dancers that perform in private tea rooms.”

“Oh,” Jet Set leaned back in his seat, adjusting his glasses, “are you planning on keeping them?”

“I’m not quite sure. They’re well made, of course, but the panda one is quite tall that I’m uncertain if I can hang it in my house.”

“At least there’s one advantage to Equestrian art,” he said, “the paintings here are actually in proportion.”

My right eye twitched, but I took in a calming breath, “But I don’t see how that makes it any better. After all, I’ve seen paintings that could be as tall and wide as most ponies homes.”

Mr. Pride huffed, while his wife asked, “What other things have you been doing?”

“Well… I am putting together a new art gallery that ought to be coming out within a month or two.”

This catches their attention, “What kind?” Upper Crust inquired.

“A collection of Post-Impressionistic paintings,” I answered before sipping my white wine.

Jet Set tilted his head, “Like what? Moneigh, Gaugin?”

“It’s more of a premiere of an artist that is alive and well, right here in Canterlot, one that he doesn’t know about yet.”

Upper Crust raised an eyebrow, “This raises many questions.”

“Go on.”

“For starters, what do you mean that this artist doesn’t know you’re putting up a gallery for his art?”

“I wanted to be a kind of a surprise since this will be the first time his work will be put on public display.”

“So that entitles that you personally know about this artist,” Mr. Pride asks.

“Oh quite,” I nodded, “In fact he’s-”

“But that can’t be right,” suddenly I hear Acrylic’s voice. Stopping at mid curiosity, I turned to the door where I found the stallion talking with the waiter, “I know I’ve made an arrangement tonight.”

The waiter looked back down at the clipboard, “Hm… I’m afraid that I don’t see your name on the list.”

“But I’ve come here a couple of days ago, I remember it.”

Now I’m curious, turning to my table, I told them, “Excuse me for a moment,” before I got up and went over to him. “Mr. Brush?”

Both he and the waiter turned to me, my hoofcolt blinked, “Mr. Pants? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I did say that I’d be going out to eat tonight, where you not told?”

“Yes sir, I have, only not as to where you’ll be eating.”

“But what are you doing here?” I asked him.

He looked down, pawing at the red carpet, “It’s my night off, sir. I have enough bits to come here and I could have sworn that I’ve made a reservation here.” He glanced over to the waiter.

“Are you eating here all by yourself?” He nodded, “Mr. Brush, why not you come to dine with me, Celestia knows that I’m in desperate need of talking to somepony interesting for a change.”

“Oh no sir,” he shook his head, “I don’t want to intrude-”

“Nonsense, I’ll have the waiters get you a chair at our table; hopefully you might lighten up the conversation. In fact, whatever you’ll have will be on me.”

“But I’ve got my bits with me,” he protested.

“No no, you are trying to rebuild your life, just dine with us so you won’t have to sacrifice your earned money on having a splendid time.”

He looked over my shoulder, “Are you sure, sir?”

“Just call me Fancy, you’re off work tonight after all,” I wrapped a hoof around his back and lead him to the table with Mister and Misses Stuckup.

“Fancy, who is this?” Upper Crust asked.

“Uh, hello there, I’m Acrylic Brush,” he smiled politely as another waiter was setting up his end of the table.

As soon as Jet Set had gotten that suspicious look, I quickly realized how big of a mistake I’ve just made. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of you.”

“What’s your names then?” he asked.

“I’m Jet Set and this is my wife, Upper Crust.”

“Well I’ve never heard of you either, so I guess we’re both even.”

“Are you from Canterlot, Mr. Brush?” the mare asked.

“I’ve just recently moved, with my new job and Mr. Pants here being my new boss.”

“Oh, so you work for Fancy Pants?”

“Yes ma’am, as a hoofcolt.”

Mr. Pride huffed, “Is that so, then why are you the one not weighing the tables?”

Oh joy, here we go. I looked over to Acrylic who suddenly had a frown, “Because I have the night off.”

“Fancy,” Mrs. Prejudice asked, “why are you having your employee sitting at our table?”

“Because Mr. Pants knows how to be a good boss,” Mr. Brush replied. “Why are you suddenly picking on me for, do you always do this to other ponies that come up to say hello?”

“Never to those who have a reputation,” she said.

“Upper Crust,” I interjected, “Is it an unwritten rule not to invite friends to dine, even if they work for you?”

“Fancy,” Jet said, “servants are meant to serve, not having them eat right next to them. It’s not something you do in public.”

Mr. Brush’s face soured, “Considering your behavior towards me, if this is the best you can do in public, then I cringe to think what you two are like at your worst.”

Upper Crust gasped, Jet Set hung his jaw, and I looked on impressed. He just summoned up all my thoughts and feelings about this couple in one sentence.

Then he stood back up, “Mr. Pants, I’ve changed my mind, I’m afraid that I won’t be eating here if it’s clear that I’m not wanted.” With that, he walked out before the waiter could give him his menu.

“Well at least we can get back to more important matters,” Mr. Pride said. “So Fancy, who was this artist you were mentioning.”

Frowning, I stood up, “You’ve just offended him.”

They blinked, “I’m sorry?” Upper Crust asked, “You mean that hoofcolt was-”

“Yes, that was the one I’m hosting a gallery for. You know, that was very rude, even coming from you two.”

“Fancy,” Jet waved a hoof, “I don’t understand, if it’s true that was the artist and has painted before, how come nopony has ever heard of him if he’s here as a servant?”

“I will say this, I have seen the talent that he possesses, and I’m shocked that neither of you can’t look past the job he’s currently working.” I took out my bits and set them on the table to cover my meal. “Now if you two would excuse me, I have to go to my employee to apologize for your behavior.”

With that, I too left the restaurant and went looking for Acrylic.

Luckily, he wasn’t too hard to find since he was down the street.

“Fancy?” Fleur asked who was watching me from the antique shop from across the street came up to me. “What happened?”

“It would seem that Mr. Brush was taken the night off, but my friends have offended him.”

“Do you want to go talk to him?”

“I do.”

“Give me a second,” she whistled loudly at the passing carriages, “Taxi!”

Just like that, one of them pulled over, we quickly got in, “Go up ahead and turn right, there’s somepony I need to talk to.” The driver nodded and rushed through the traffic, made the turn until Acrylic was in sight. “Stop for a moment,” I said. Getting out, I called out, “Mr. Brush, I am deeply sorry for what just happened.”

“What were you doing with them anyway,” he questioned, “They seem really unpleasant.”

“I was invited over because they wanted to make some deal with me, but after what I’ve just heard, I think I’m going to have to deny them that privilege.”

He snorted, “Talk about going on a bad start for a day off, huh?”

“Mr. Brush, I want to make it up to you. Here, come with us and let’s go someplace else.”

“Like where?”

I thought for a moment, “I know an excellent Istallion place that has good gelato. You can have your dinner there and I can still get my dessert. Besides, my offer still stands that I’ll cover your bill.”

He looked at the carriage, “I’m guessing that Ms. de Lis is coming along as well?”

“I have to whenever he goes out dear,” my bodyguard said. “But I think that you’re safe, now come along,” she waved.

I confessed that I smiled when he agreed. Stepping into the carriage, I instructed, “Driver please take us to the Fuoco e Ghiaccio.” He saluted, and we headed off. By now, I was in the middle, Fleur on the left and Acrylic on the right.

“Mr. Pants,” he said, looking at the passing ponies and shops. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“After hearing such uncivilized speak from my friends, it’s the least I can do.”

He looked at me confused, “Why are they your friends anyway?”

I sighed, “To tell you the truth, I hardly know myself. Perhaps one of the few things we have in common is that we both happen to have a fortune in a bank.”

This got a chuckle out of him, “That I can see. How do you think they got their wealth anyway? Charging ponies for the insults they give?”

“I wouldn’t be that surprised, to be honest,” I smiled. “Do you want to know what I call them personally?” He shook his head, “Mr. Pride and Mrs. Prejudice.”

Acrylic laughed, “Oh, that’s good! Those names really fit them, do they? ‘Dear, are we ever going to give our slaves a day off like that Fancy fellow?’ ‘Of course not darling, that would make us look ethical to society’s eyes! Being civil is so out of fashion these days!’”

“That’s jolly good,” I giggled like a school filly. “That’s very accurate the more I think about it.”

We joked back and forth, so before we knew it, we were at the Istallion café. We took the outdoor seating since it was a lovely evening.

I heard my bodyguard clear her throat, looking over; I saw that there was a sly smile on her.

“What?” I asked.

“Aren’t you two rushing this relationship,” she said, “after all, it hasn’t been a month yet.”

Realizing what she was talking about Acrylic’s cheeks went scarlet red, “M-Ms. Fleur, it’s just friendly talk after all. What do you m-mean by relationship?”

She giggled, “Oh nothing dear. It’s just good to see you and Fancy enjoying yourselves.”

“You do know that Acrylic isn’t my coltfriend, right?” I deadpanned.

“Whoever said he was?” she teased, sticking her tongue at me.

I think I saw Mr. Brush’s eyes went as wide as the table before he quickly looked at anything else except me. “We’re just friends is all,” he muttered.

“Whatever you say,” she said picking up a paper menu.

Rolling my eyes, I turned to Acrylic, “Come now, she’s only teasing. She does that whenever the occasion calls for it.”

“Mr. Pants, could we talk about something else?”

“Of course, what do you want for dinner?”

He shrugged, “Maybe have one of their pies, that is if they cook pizza here.”

“I believe they do – although I haven’t ordered one from here myself.”

“Well, if they do, I hope I can get the kind with the red crust, mozzarella, and basil on top. Maybe have some peppered olive oil too if they allow it.”

“Don’t really go for anything fancy like the Supreme?”

He shook his head, “I often times find food that is at their best when they’re at their most simplistic. Have you ever found food like that, where despite how plain it is that it’s so good that it doesn’t need anything else?”

“Yes, quite. Like their gelato here for instance where they use very basic and purest ingredients to make their ice cream so rich. Like their lemon gelato for instance, ah, it’s to die for.”

Mr. Brush turned to look at me, “Really? A thing of ice cream that is that good?”

I nodded, “I recommend you make room for it, for it really is something worth trying at least once.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Fleur added, “even Princess Luna says so herself.”

Our waiter came and we ordered, a few minutes later, the cups of gelato were put on the table. I lit up my horn, grabbing a spoonful and hoofing it over to the reddish fellow, “Give it a taste.”

Taking the spoon into his own hoof, he looked at the yellow frozen glob with suspicion. Critically looking at it as if this bright substance had something on it, but a moment later, he popped it into his mouth and his eyes widen. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said, “Ice cream first, pizza later.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

Chapter 8: A Study in Jealousy

Just as promised, once a month I would take the train to head down to Ponyville to visit one pony: Rarity. Since the premiere of her simplistic but charming dress worn by Twilight Sparkle before she became a princess, I’ve taken an investment into her designs. I tend to go there for an afternoon to see what new dresses and suites that the Canterlot elite would take interests in – in other words, to put in a good word for the dear.

As of now, I’m traveling with two other ponies with Acrylic taking the window seat, me in the middle and Fleur at the end. Of course, the Artist didn’t serve any purpose in my meeting with Rarity. Yet, I did think that giving him a change in scenery would be good for both him and his art. Under our seats are a blank canvas, the tripod and the bag of brushes, paints and a palette for him to work off of.

“Have you ever been to Ponyville Mr. Brush?” Fleur asked leaning forward.

“I have passed by it but never really stop to see it,” he answered, “How come Gustav doesn’t come with you, sir?”

“Because his services aren’t needed, after all, it won’t be all day and I’ll return by dinner time. You are here because I figured you might be getting weary of painting things in Canterlot that a change would be healthy for your creativity.”

“So… You’re taking me to this town for me to paint?”

I nodded, “Essentially. Once again, you may choose the subject and you may go anywhere you choose.”

“So how do I know where to find you if I get done before you?”

“Firstly,” my bodyguard said, “We’ll show you where Carousel Boutique is, and then we’ll let you go free.”

Acrylic looked out the window once more, “What are the ponies there like?”

“Filled with character,” I said, “its home to Princess Twilight along with five other national heroines. There’s a tiny community of artists, musicians, a writer or two, and the occasional monster attack.”

This got his attention, “Come again?”

Chuckling, I replied, “Oh nothing to be afraid of, that sort of thing happens on occasion which usually ends within half-an-hour or so.”

“Does anypony get hurt when that happens?”

“Trust us,” Fleur explained, “at this point, not even the residents there are that concerned about it since so many strange things have happened so often it’s come to a point that it’s practically routine.”

Acrylic blinked before turning to the window muttering, “Ponies are weird.”

“Still,” I said, “Ponyville has a rustic charm, apart from Princess Twilight’s new castle, I’m very confident that you’ll find something to paint about.”

Several minutes later we pulled up to the tiny station, after getting off the three of us started to head towards the Boutique. The weather was perfect from above, sky blue with a few clouds here and there; even the sun’s not too warm so that ponies were comfortable enough for local gossip. From the buildings to the locals, this town always has a laid back feel in the warmer months.

“So what do you think so far Mr. Brush?” I asked.

Acrylic, with all the supplies on his back, looked around for a moment. “It looks peaceful… I might get an idea somewhere.”

“Now, of course, we’ll have to be back on the train by four so you’ll have plenty of time. Oh, and before I forget, I might want to warn you of one resident here that you might be aware of.”

He craned his neck at me, “Is it dangerous?”

“I think that words aren’t quite accurate. No. Nothing dangerous at all, but something to keep an eye out for because there’s a mare here that’s known for getting too excited to meet somepony new. She’s pink, has a mane like cotton candy, has three balloons as a cutie mark, and she has the tendency to speak very fast. I’m not saying to avoid her completely if you happen to run into her, just don’t be too shocked if you happen to meet her.”

Mr. Brush blinked, “Okay? So how far is this boutique?”

“Around the corner,” Fleur said. Soon enough, we were in sight of the establishment.

“Well, there it is,” I turned to the artist. “You may go as you please.”

“Thank you, sir,” he looked around, “I think I’ll go over to the park over there and see if I can find something.”

“That’ll be fine, but you’re welcome to come back here if you happen to finish early.”

After we departed, Fleur and I went up to the door to knock on it.

“Just a moment,” Rarity’s voice called out as the usual sounds of her last-minute checking persisted behind the door. There was the clanking of fine china, the rearranging of furniture, the rustle of fabrics and clinking of jewels that went on for a moment before the mare in question opened the door.

Like the clockwork of a pocket watch, Rarity greeted us in her latest design. This time she had on a peacock inspired dress in which it was in a royal blue that had a golden thread that formed a feather-like pattern. At the edges of her dress were the famous gold, light green and dark blues like eyes of the tail feathers. “Fancy darling, it’s good seeing you again.”

I nodded, “Hello again Ms. Rarity, and I must say, what a smashing dress you have on today.”

“This is only the introduction to what I have to show you,” she said with a proud smile. “The birds from Fluttershy’s cottage have given me new ideas for the upcoming season. I’m very excited to show them off to you.”

“Birds you say,” I raised an eyebrow, “You’ve gotten me curious Rarity, may we come in?”

She happily abridged, thus preceded into our monthly ritual. In that, she introduces each new design with a pull of a cord to part open a curtain. Fleur and I would see a parade of mannequins dressed up in their finest in any given theme that Rarity has chosen. With the bird theme, I’m delighted to say that not every dress, suit, and a hat was made out of feathers but rather the color schemes that were used were a delight to the eye. We saw a suit that was inspired by seagulls, a fiery dress that had the personality of a phoenix, and a mare’s hat that Rarity told me was an abstract form of a blue jay.

Then after the parade was done, Rarity would offer us some tea while we got down to business along with some small talk.

_*_

“…. Yes, I agree,” Rarity said putting down her cup. “Last season was relying too much on gold highlights. Besides, all the other fashion designers were using it so often in the last show to the point that some of it looked rather tacky.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I sipped on the green tea, “I wondered part way if nopony had checked to see if everyone else had the same idea. At least I’ll give you credit for coming up with something a little more original.”

“Sometimes there are plenty of things to find inspiration if one looked at nature. I think it’s rather impossible not to.”

Before I could reply, there was a knock on the door. My bodyguard offered to go see who it is, and a moment later came back with Mr. Brush following behind with a painting on his back.

“Sorry for that,” he apologized, “the painting took a little longer than I anticipated.”

“Fancy, who’s this?” Rarity asked.

“Oh, I nearly forgot.” I said, “Ms. Rarity, this is a new friend of mine: Acrylic Brush. You can clearly see what he specializes in.” Turning to the stallion, I asked, “So, what do you have today?”

“I think it’s still wet,” he said as he carefully knelt down, trying to get a hoof underneath the painting. “Uh… a little help?”

“Allow me, dear,” Rarity lit up her horn, and the painting was lifted off the Artist’s back and floated upright. “Oh my…”

The four of us gazed at the canvas, on it was a picture of two mares sitting on a bench with the trees and bushes as a backdrop. There were some touches of the sky in which the brushstrokes had only one layer of blue that almost looked like it was done with watercolors. The trees themselves had left of light and dark violet, dark green, a lighter green, and touches of yellow with a bark of deep crimson, dark orange and brown. The two mares were sitting on a bench of gray and light blue where they sat in different positions yet; they appeared to be quite close. On the left was a mare of light blue and light green that let her hind legs dangle down while sitting on her plot that looked down at the other with colors pink and a light sandy shade that rested her head down on the other’s lap. Both of their manes from the one with the gentle curls of the sandy color mare to the frantic fire-like green and white of the other was the most expressive of the piece. At the bottom of the painting, the grass itself had different shades of green with quick strokes of violet.

“Isn’t that Lyra and Bon Bon?” Rarity asked.

Acrylic nodded, “They gave me their permission to paint them. Although they were only around by the time I sketched them out, I was still able to finish it after they left.”

“It’s very detailed,” Fleur commented. “I like what you did with the trees and the mares.”

“Is it?” he looked at the picture again; “To me, it looks like a little foal painted it.”

“I disagree,” I said, “There’s so much complexity in this the way all the colors interact with one another. I’d say, I think you’ve outdone yourself once again!”

He on the other hoof had his ears folded back in embarrassment, “I’ve could have done it better.”

“But how could you?” Rarity asked, “This here is a work of genius.”

Acrylic blinked, looking behind him he said, “Are you sure you’re not talking about somepony else?”

“Mr. Brush, it’s wonderful as it is, let it be.” I said, “How about you join us? We won’t be going back on the train for another half-hour.”

“Who’s she?” he asked, pointing at the fashionista.

“I’m Rarity, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance darling,” she offered a hoof to him in whom he shook. Sitting down next to her, he asked how she knew me. “Well, a few years ago I came up to Canterlot in hopes to become noticed of my business when I happened to bump into him. I mentioned that I was staying in one of the rooms at the castle when he became curious about me, so he invited me to see the Wonderbolt derby along with his companions.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the bloke’s polite smile drop, “Oh?”

“He did, after that; I was invited by him to go to public events like attending auctions, an opening of galleries, and the christening of a new airship. From that day Fancy and I have become quite the partners in influencing the most influential ponies in Equestria.”

“He did?”

“Oh yes, he… are you alright darling?”

I looked over in which I witness his expression quickly changed from disappointment to a forced smile, “What? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Are you sure?” Rarity asked before he suddenly got up, lifting the painting back on his back.

“Mr. Pants, if you and Miss Rarity don’t mind, I’ll be waiting for you and Fleur back at the station. I think I might put in some sketches before we go.”

“Mr. Brush, whatever the-” I was about to ask before he suddenly turned around and walked out of the door. Puzzled, I turned to the two mares, “What was that about?”

“Fancy,” Rarity said, putting a hoof underneath her chin, “was it me, or did that Acrylic fellow looked a bit… how do I say this? Disappointed?”

“Why would he be disappointed?” I asked, “You were just explaining how we’ve become business partners.”

“Unless…” my bodyguard started but suddenly paused.

“What?” I questioned, “What are you unlessing?”

“Mr. Pants, do you think that maybe, (and this is a huge maybe mind you,) do you think that Mr. Brush misunderstood Rarity for a moment?” Rarity and I asked what she meant, “Suppose for a moment that to him when Ms. Rarity explained how you’ve met that it sounded like… you asked her out on a date.”

Both mine and Rarity’s eyes opened wide in surprise, “What?” we asked simultaneously.

“From my point of view, when she was talking and before you sir looked at him, I could have sworn that he looked not just devastated but jealousy as well.”

Jealousy? Why would Acrylic be jeal…? Then a question popped into my mind in that instant. Something that up until now I haven’t considered before – Does Mr. Brush has some sort of crush on me and I haven’t realized it?

“Fleur de Lis,” Rarity said, “are you suggesting that he walked out because he thinks me and Fancy have some… romantic relationship?”

She shook her head, “Suggesting would mean that I would advise on something I already know about, this, however, is only a theory.”

While the two went back and forth, I was into my own thoughts on the subject. Considering what I know about him several weeks ago, I only assumed that we have a friendship between us. But after what we’ve just witnessed, I’m wondering if for Acrylic that he’s begun to develop feelings for me and I didn’t see it. If that were true, when did it start? Is it just a crush or is he infatuated with me? I admit, it is rather flattering now I think of it, but at the same time, I feel a bit ashamed that I didn’t realize this sooner.

“Fancy?” Rarity snapped me back into reality, “What do you think?”

“Hm?” I looked at the clock, “Oh! It looks like we’ve better get going then. As I’ve said Rarity, I’ll put in a good word for you back in Canterlot.” With that, Fleur and I made a rather hasty departure.

Back at the station, among the ponies waiting for the train to arrive was Acrylic, his face only focused on a sketchbook with a pencil while the painting rested at his side.

“Mr. Brush?” I asked as we approached him, “Is something wrong?”

There was a pregnant pause between us. Without looking up from his book, he said, “No, nothing’s wrong sir.”

“Are you sure? Acrylic, I did say that if there’s anything you want to talk to me ab-”

“Everything is fine, sir,” he interrupted. “Let’s focus on getting back home for now.”

For the rest of the trip back home, no matter what I or Fleur would say, he refused to speak any further on the subject. Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder what this bloke is thinking right now considering from what I know about him. I hope to Celestia that it’s nothing serious.

Chapter 9: The Unfinished Double Portrait

Although Mr. Brush still continued on with his duties as before, I couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to carry a gray mood about him. For several days I don’t think I’ve seen him smile at all, even when he was painting. In the dining room, he would pass around the food and pour the drinks, but he refuses to look at me.

I confess that I’m starting to get worried about him, with only a day to go before I surprise Acrylic of the exhibition, I’ve decided to call in my butler to talk with him after breakfast.

He came into the study, “You wished to see me, sir?”

“Gustav, do come in, I want to speak with you for a moment.”

Closing the door behind him, he stepped forward, “What about?

“Tell me, how is Mr. Brush doing downstairs?”

“Starting from when?”

“When we returned from Ponyville,” I clarified.

“Ah,” he nodded, “I would say that he’s been very quiet, and wouldn’t say about anything except concerning about his chores and paintings. I would say that it looks like he has a lot on his mind, sir.”

“Is he angry at me?”

“Sir?”

“Have I offended him somehow? He wouldn’t look at me even if we were in the same room. And he wouldn’t say anything to me other than ‘Yes or no sir.’ Have you heard anypony sense any dissatisfaction from him?”

Gustav thought for a moment, “Not as far as I’m aware of. Although he did look rather down lately, of course no one knows why. But he has asked me if he could have some time off this afternoon, saying that he has some business to take care of.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Afraid no, he was rather vague about it. He’s in his room painting last time I’ve seen him.”

“Very well. While you’re here, could you inform the kitchen that they don’t have to worry about me during Lunch that I’ll be going out to speak with a reporter this afternoon?”

“Very good sir,” Gustav nodded.

“Also, when Acrylic is done painting, could he bring it up so I could have it photographed.”

“As you wish,” he bowed before he left, leaving me behind to gather up my notes for the upcoming interview.

About an hour later, Fleur arrives to escort me to Le Café du Soleil for the interview. Before I could head out, Gustav came up to me, balancing a painting on his back, “Sir, Mr. Brush has disappeared.”

I raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean? I thought you said that he was already planning to leave wasn’t he?”

“I know, except he didn’t tell anypony that he left. Not only that, but we found his uniform folded up on his bed along with this on top. I’ve been looking for him, even asked around but he’s overall vanished.”

“Oh dear, you don’t mean to say that he just quit without turning in his resignation?”

“I’m not sure; I admit that I find this unusual. Perhaps, if I may suggest we ought to organize a search party to see where he’s gone to.”

“Why? This is the only home he knows; maybe he’s just going on a walk or something.”

“I would assume so if it weren’t for what he left behind.”

Now my attention turned to what Gustav was carrying. Lighting up my horn, I lifted up the still drying painting.

Only, unlike all the others, this one was only half painted. The picture has been painted while the other was a sketch that was angrily scratched over by a pencil. On the left was Acrylic himself. Behind him was a nightly background of dark and light shades of blue with yellow dotted stars; as for the Artist himself, with strokes of earthy reds and browns with a mane of ghostly white, gray and yellow. Yet, the gaze of his dark yellow eyes looked over to the right, as if asking for relief. I could see that on his right shoulder there were thick, black brushstrokes that gave an outline of a comforting hoof.

It was on the right hoof of the canvas, however, that really got my attention. From the mad scribbles that mostly tried to deface, there were outlines of a suit, and as I gaze at the main source of the frustrated lines, I could barely make out a kind smile… a mustache… and a monocle.

“Oh dear… I can see why for the concern. Gustav, call everypony from downstairs and organize that search party. Make sure that Mr. Brush is found and bring him back to the house. I think the two of us need to have a talk.”

“Right away sir.”

_*_

What I ended up doing was I took another painting to be photographed for the interview. I did this because I didn’t want the general public to think that Acrylic was troubled mentally. Which was why I brought with me the painting of the street viewed from outside of the mansion.

At the café, I met up the reporter for the Canterlot Times, Extra Scoop. I could always rely on her to getting the word out of new artists and events that would attract the elite of the city. A lively, yet curious mare in forest green is interested to know to the hour to find out what is going on in the city.

“Hey Fancy,” she waved as we gain near the outside tables. As expected, she had with her tape recorder to capture our conversation and her camera. “How’ve you been?”

“Good afternoon Ms. Scoop,” I and Fleur sat down. “I must say that I’ve been keeping myself rather busy, and I’m quite excited about tomorrow.”

“Wanted to get straight to it, huh?” she smiled. “Now do you wanted to start when the food gets here or do you want to do it now?”

“I was hoping if you would take a picture of this first.” I levitated the painting onto the table and have it rest on the umbrella pole.

Extra grabbed her camera, “Ooh! Is this one of the paintings that are going on display?”

“Of course, I want to give your readers a taste of what to expect at the exhibition.”

She took the camera into her aura as she angled the painting just so that it was just right before it flashed, “I must say Mr. Pants, this is an impressive painting. It’s something that I would hang in my apartment.”

“Perhaps we ought to jump right into the interview.”

“Oh, right,” one of the buttons on the recorder was pressed down in which the white wheels on the tape started to move, “So Mr. Pants, who’s the artist behind this painting?”

“His name is Acrylic Brush, he’s a thirty-two-year-old earth pony that specializes in Post-Impressionistic paintings of his own style.”

“So how come this Acrylic isn’t here with us for the interview?”

“I wanted to surprise him when I bring him to the gallery tomorrow.”

“Why the surprise?”

“You see, I order for what I’m planning on doing to make sense, you must understand something about Mr. Brush. You see, he immigrated to Equestria in hopes to make a name for himself here. However, as much as he worked hard at his art, he was never given the chance to become known as he got closer to Canterlot. He spent his bits in paints, brushes, and canvases, but he had no luck sealing his art. By the time he came here, he was not only broke but was homeless for a time.”

“So if that was true, how did you encounter him?”

“I was riding home in a taxi with Fleur here when he threw out a painting into the garbage. We managed to save the painting in which we’ll have it on display at the exhibition. Since it was such a high quality of art, we decided to track this bloke down in which we’ve found him behind a dumpster believe it or not. There he was, jobless, homeless, and down on himself, and when asked if he painted that picture, he said that not only he did, but he thought all his paintings that came before was terrible!”

“Oh my, you mean that for somepony who’ve painted this,” she pointed at the painting on the table, “thought that he was bad at art?”

“Hence for the main reason why I wanted to surprise him,” I said. “Ever since I’ve given him a place to sleep, a job and given him the time to work on his paintings, I have seen him create masterpieces in the past month that he considers them to be worthless, childish drawings. He doesn’t really see that his paintings have any value, and I want to not only change his perspective but show that there are ponies out there that would really like his style.”

“I see… Now you’ve said that you’ve given him a job, is that right?” I nodded, “What does he do now besides making these?”

“Well, at the time I was understaffed at my home, so I offered him to take the position of a hoofcolt in order to rebuild his life.” There was the sound of galloping hooves on the quiet street, I looked and saw a couple of police officers rushing by. Shrugging, I added, “Anyway, I must say that Mr. Brush has been a very good employee who learns quickly and has been courteous to everyone there.”

“So how would you describe Acrylic Brush as a pony since he’s working for you for…?”

“About over a month. Mr. Brush is a hard worker and he’s been painting every day when he’s not on duty. I’ve come to know him as very talented, humble, could get very philosophical when he wants to, a genius of colors to the point where it’s poetic and has a marvelous sense of humor once you get him in a good mood.”

“So what do you hope to accomplish from this exhibition in the long run?”

“I hope to give the fellow a chance to give him a reputation as an artist. His art has gone unfairly unnoticed, and if all goes well, he would get commissions other than me so he would have plenty to not only rebuild his life but to earn a spot in the artistic community.”

“Uh-huh. So is the exhibition at the Cinder Gallery again?”

I smiled, “There’s none another place I would prefer to introduce a genius.”

“SIR!” The three of us looked up to find my butler galloping up to us, completely out of breath.

“Gustav?” I raised an eyebrow, “What’s wrong?”

He slowed down when he got to the table. Heaving, he said, “Sir… I have… some good… news… and bad…”

“Is it Acrylic?” Fleur asked and he nodded.

“We know… where he is.”

“So why are you out here?” I asked.

“Look up.”

I saw Extra gazed up to where my butler was looking at, her jaw drop and took a picture. Fleur did so shortly after, only to gasp and cover her muzzle. A grim curiosity made me turn around to look up at the tall buildings down the street…

Oh Celestia… Is that…?

I think my monocle fell out of my eye at what I saw. There right underneath the face of a clock two stories large was a stallion that sat there right on the edge looking down. He was an earth pony who has a gray mane, tail and a deep red coat.

Standing up, I was made self-aware that my jaw was on the ground. “Oh goddesses!” I shouted, turning to my bodyguard, “We need to go, now!”

We galloped to the Mountain Mist Hotel, pushing through the crowd forming right underneath Acrylic with only one thought in my head… Why?

Chapter 11: Pictures at the Exhibit

“So how long do you plan on us being there?” Acrylic asked, keeping his bag of paints, brushes and a small canvas close in the taxi.

“I suppose it all rather depends on you,” I said. “Depending on how many will show up to the gallery, I wouldn’t be surprised if it went on for… what would you say Fleur? Three, perhaps four hours?”

My bodyguard who was sitting between us thought for a moment. “I guess until dinner rolls around. Then again, I heard that there will be some catering there since it’s so new and all. Nothing heavy just some snacks and punch.”

“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?” Acrylic craned his neck forward a bit. “I mean, won’t ponies wonder about me being there? After all, I saw the picture of me this morning?”

A moment of panic graced my mind, “Did you read it?”

He shook his head to my relief, “I don’t think I have to. All I’m asking is that won’t ponies there who might have seen or read about it would wonder why I’m there.”

“Then don’t pay any attention to them, for now, we’re going there to introduce you to the public.”

“And by the public, of course, you mean your rich friends.”

I shrugged, “Well naturally, I know a few who are art collectors themselves. Yet, while there, you can show them first hoof of painting a masterpiece at work.”

He folded his ears back, looking away to the passing street. “Suppose they don't like it?”

Fleur put a hoof on his shoulder, “Mr. Brush, where we’re going is to be with like-minded ponies that would be interested in you. Plenty of ponies want to have an Impressionistic masterpiece hanging in their home. I think they’ll be curious about a living master that lives here in Canterlot.”

The red fellow sighed, “If only I can believe that.”

“Oh cheer up,” I try to give him a comforting smile, “from all the art I’ve seen you’ve made, I think that finding even one pony to have a commission won’t be that difficult at all.”

Acrylic looked up from his hoofcolt uniform, “Mr. Pants, I would give anything to see what you see. For you may be an optimist, but as someone who grew up in the real world, I know that finding success is still unlikely.”

I looked up ahead to the Cinder Gallery that was coming up, “Well Acrylic, I think you’re in for a surprise.”

We rode up to the steps of the Classical marble building that, although not as massive as most museums, there is a timeless elegance that historically has introduced artists for the past century to Equestria. From Trothko’s simplistic paintings to the complex sculptures of Blooming Clay, this gallery is the doorway for artists to be given a chance to become known.

Today is Acrylic Brush’s turn.

Already as our cab driver pulled up, there’s already a crowd there waiting at the door. I know they’re there for me, their host, to show up to open up the exhibition. After thanking the driver, the three of us head up the steps.

“Ah Fancy, there you are,” it took only a moment to find that it was Hoity Toity that was speaking. “Some of us were getting worried that you might be running late.”

“Hello old chap,” I went up to shake his hoof. “And no, I haven’t forgotten for I’m rather excited about this myself. You know I haven’t seen you in a while, and I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.”

“For that, I’m very sorry,” he said, “Manehattan was keeping my hooves tied for about a month. But now that I’m free, I’m still interested in seeing the latest art from… what’s his name?”

“Acrylic Brush and you have read those letters I’ve been trying to send you, right?”

“Again, I’m sorry for that, I just barely got back and I haven’t checked my mail yet.”

“Well, never mind that – let me give the opening speech and let’s go right in. Besides, I’ll have you speak with the artist himself.”

“Here’s here,” Hoity looked around, “Where?”

“All in good time,” I looked over my shoulder over to Acrylic as he followed close by.

Now at the doors of the gallery, Fleur and Acrylic cleared a space for me, “Good afternoon Mares and Gentlecolts,” I began, getting the crowd’s attention. “Before we begin, I want to thank you all for coming out today. Behind these doors, for the first time will be the premiere of a master of color, that saw the parks, gardens, streets, homes, mountains and the starry skies of our city, and has produced about forty masterpieces that now hung in this gallery. It will be my pleasure to introduce you to the works of the Last Impressionist that up until now has been gone unnoticed. Although all of you will get the chance to meet the artist himself, we have quite the world to look at from his paintings. Now then,” I turned around to the double doors and with my horn flaring, I grasp the handles. “Shall we take a look?”

Now the doors have been pushed open, and the curious elite began to walk right in. I turned to Acrylic who was standing by the door. “Mr. Brush,” I said, “Come inside, there’s something you need to see.”

Giving a puzzled look, the stallion followed me into the foyer that leads into the grand, arch hall. A hallway of clear skylights that shone down upon the stone columns, and gilded frames that hung on the Rococo walls of white and gold, while the sounds of a string quartet were playing softly. In each and every frame was Acrylic’s paintings. Two rows high, the main hall held the larger canvases of ponds and flowery gardens.

Suddenly, I heard the hoofsteps of Mr. Brush became dead quiet. I turned, expected to find surprise… only to find horror his face. He looked around at his art and the ponies that were looking up at them…

“Acrylic?” I began.

“What have you done?” he asked softly, “W… What is all this?”

“Well, this is an exhibition. Your exhibition,” I said, trotting up to place a hoof on his back. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He looked around, eyes wide and trembling, “I… I can’t be here! They’re going to laugh! They-”

“Mr. Brush,” Fleur place a hoof on his back from the other side. “Listen for a moment. Nopony’s laughing. Please, for your own good, stay for a moment longer and listen to what they have to say. Believe us; we wouldn’t invite you here if that were the case.”

“Yes,” I nodded, “Just stay and hear what everypony has to say about your art. I promise that it will be worthwhile.”

“I…” the artist looked around, “I don’t about this.”

“Please trust us,” I nudged him to the left, “now come along, let’s go hear the reactions.”

The three of us began over to two mares who I think might be mother and daughter as they were looking up at the view of a tree in Canterlot park that had at the base a solid ring of lilacs.

“It’s really pretty,” the younger mare commented. “I like the flowers.”

“Yes,” the elder nodded, “I like how the branches help draw you in. And the leaves that swirl around as if the wind is moving them. Very lively.”

We moved onto a trio of stallions in one of the smaller rooms that were looking at a painting of my street. “It’s an interesting way for painting the pavement, don’t you think?” one asked.

“Dark purple, deep red and blue,” said another, “the way it’s painted, you wonder if you’re looking at a flowing river then a street. However, the detail on the window there with the filly looking out is rather clever.”

“I agree,” said the third, “Gives you an idea what would look like if Picasso was an Impressionist.”

We moved on into another room where it mostly held still life’s of flowers in vases. In this room, a couple that I know was in there, looking at a painting of my father’s cat in lilies.

“Ah, Lord Night Light and Lady Twilight Velvet,” I bowed respectably. “I’m pleased to see you two here.”

“Oh please,” the gray mare smiled, “Just Velvet would do. I don’t really use the title anyway.”

“How you’re doing Fancy?” Lord Light shook my hoof, “I must say this is quite the collection you got here.”

“Why thank you, are there any particular favorites so far?”

“I do like this one,” Velvet pointed at the painting. “The cat in this is adorable sleeping there.”

“That’s actually my father’s cat.” I pointed out.

“Really?” Night looked at me, “So I guess you really know the artist?”

“You have no idea.”

“Is he around?”

I looked over to Acrylic, “I’ve been told that he’s coming around soon.” I winked before returning to his Lordship, “So any further thoughts on the painting?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that the artist almost committed suicide the other day.” He said, “Since you know him, is he doing alright?”

“He’s recovering, but yes he is at the moment.”

“That I don’t really understand,” Lady Velvet looked at the painting once more, “How could a pony that could paint such joyful flowers like all of these could still be miserable? I would gladly have these be in my home.”

“But has he given you any reason why he almost died yesterday?” Lord Night asked.

“Well,” I sighed, “Let’s just say that he had many reasons, one of which was he was doubting his abilities.”

He shook his head, “Guess he doesn’t really know the talent he’s got. I mean, all of these paintings are so lively. Just look at the fantastic command of color, and have a balance between wild and control brush strokes. Whoever he is, the stallion is a genius of combining both the colors of the Impressionists with the more modern paintings that somehow made it all work. I do hope that he realizes that he has a gift.”

I looked behind me at Acrylic, he was starting to walk away slowly while Lord Night was talking, “Please excuse me for a moment.” I said as I and Fleur went up to him. “Are you alright Mr. Brush?”

“Are they really telling the truth?” he questions, “Do… Do they all think that, all of this… is good?”

I nodded, “Yes, it’s been something I was trying to tell you-”

“Her Majesty Princess Luna of Equestria!” a voice cried out coming from the foyer. The three of us went into the main hall where before bowing ponies were two Night Guards and the Princess of the Night herself! The three of us also bowed too.

“Rise fellow citizens,” she said. “We- I have come to see the paintings also.”

We watched her go up to one of the paintings. It was of the palace at night with the twisting clouds and piercing stars.

I went up to Her Majesty, “Princess Luna?” I bowed.

“Ah, Fancy Pony,” she smiled as she wrapped a constricting foreleg around me, “Tis good to see you once again. Tell us; is the artist of these paintings here?”

“Yes, your Highness,” I waved a hoof over, “Princess Luna, this is Acrylic Brush, the mastermind behind all of these.”

Her joyful expression quickly changed into a solemn tone as she released me.

Acrylic bowed low to her, “Forgive me, Your Majesty, I’m not worthy.”

“Insistently, it is precisely the reason I want us to speak about. Rise Master Brush, and walk with us.”

He obeyed, as I too followed closely behind them.

“Am I in trouble?” the red stallion inquired.

“No. It has come to our attention that yesterday you almost jumped off a building. Is this true?”

He craned his neck sheepishly, with ears folded back, he nodded.

“Would it be improper to ask why?” Luna asked.

Sighing, he answered, “Princess, I… I was…”

She paused, draping a wing over him. “Take your time.”

Acrylic took in several deep breaths, “Because… I thought that… the world would have been better off… without me in it.”

“Why?”

“Because up until now, I thought that I was worthless. Nopony wanted my paintings and nopony wanted me. I really did try to work hard. I used to have hope that things would get better since I immigrated to Equestria to have that dream come true. But… Nothing happened. While you create art worthy of the gods, all I’ve been doing is making messy paints that no one would want. Even now, I am not worthy to be in your presence because of that fact. So please forgive all the inadequate excuses of art that now hung all around.”

“Acrylic Brush, I’m going to tell you a little secret in the world of art,” said the Princess. “While there will always be artists that struggle for immortality, the good art they leave behind is timeless and it will never, ever age. This isn’t because that they are popular nor because they use a focused theme. For good art comes from how an artist shows others how they see things in their own unique way. So even if you go unnoticed by everypony, with time they’ll come to you to find something that challenges them. All of these paintings that I see are a challenge to the eye, much like my stars, because there’s depth, meaning, and wonder among these pictures that I promise will draw ponies back every time.

“While the pain of loneliness, ostracism, and being ignored are easy for us artists to portray, the ability to use that pain and beauty to express the joy, wonderment, and majesty of our world is something that very few ponies are able to do. Only a few ponies in history could accomplish this, and even fewer alive could master it the way you can.

“I am honored today that I have the chance to meet one of these few geniuses that are still among the living.”

As for Acrylic, he was crying when he heard this. I went up to him, “Mr. Brush, I’m so sorry, is this all too much?”

“No,” he whipped off his tears with the sleeve of his uniform, “they’re tears of joy. It’s the very words that I’ve always wanted to hear. Thank you, my Princess,” he started kissing her hooves. “Thank you!”

“Oh please, please Acrylic Brush,” Luna said, “tis not a holy relic.” I laughed as I helped the chap back up. “One more thing,” she added, “if at any time you wish to paint in the Royal Gardens in order to find inspiration, or if you wanted somepony to talk to. The gates of the palace shall be always open to you.”

He bowed low once more, “I can’t thank you enough, my Princess.”

“I think now’s the time I let everypony know you’re here.” We returned to the main hall in which the stack table was. Raising a glass and tapping it with a spoon, I announced, “Mares and Gentlecolts, may I properly introduce to you all, the pony of honor who created all of these paintings, Acrylic Brush.”

Immediately, the elite gathered into the room and towards the red stallion, “For the genius of these beautiful paintings, let us give three cheers for Mr. Brush.”

Three hurrays later; Hoity was the first to approach him. “So you’re Acrylic Brush? I’ve wondered what you looked like. I must say, I really do like the color schemes on many of these.”

“Uh… thank you?”

“Now, since you’re here, I want to ask you something,” he pointed to a corner of the room where it showed the painting that he had made in Ponyville. “The one with the two mares, are you selling that by any chance?”

Acrylic blinked… and blinked again, “Come again?”

“I was wondering if that painting is up for sale. So if you are, how much do you want it for?”

The bloke was dumbstruck, “Uh… I don’t know.”

Hoity looked over at the painting, “I’ll tell you what, how about I give you… fifty thousand bits for it?”

I saw Acrylic’s eyes shrank to pinpricks, “What?”

“Oh come on,” a mare interjected, “That’s far too low. I’ll give seventy-five thousand for it.”

“I’ll give eighty,” someone said.

“What?” Mr. Brush asked.

“You cheapskates,” a pegasus said, “eighty thousand for that painting? Please, I would pay a hundred-thousand for that painting over there.”

“What!” Acrylic screamed, he looked at me asking, “Is this really happening?”

I had to ring the glass again, “Please, everyone! This is an exhibit, not an auction house. None of these paintings will be sold without the artist’s consent. If Mr. Brush wants to sell them, then it is only up to him when and where it ought to be done. Also,” I smiled, “if he wishes, Acrylic here could take on commissions if anypony is ready to pay for it.”

There was talk of interest among my class over this, “Excuse me, sir,” one of the mare’s said, “would you be interested in painting something in time for my daughter’s birthday? I’d be happy to pay whatever price you ask.”

“Could you paint my portrait?” Hoity asked.

“Mine too!” said someone in the crowd.

“Would you paint my dog?” another asked.

“Can you paint a picture of my baby?”

“Would you paint my garden?”

“Please paint my portrait!”

Voices multiplied all around the room, while in the center, the Artist could barely believe his own ears, and I know why. For the first time, they wanted him to paint and would put forth fortune to get it. Acrylic looked over at me, while I was giving a proud smile.

Chapter 12: The Picnic Behind Sunlight Falls.

“Everything’s packed Sir,” Gustav said as he levitated over my hat. “Although, I’m still wondering who are you expecting to have lunch with?”

“Well, not to give too much away,” I smirked, “Let’s just say that I’m going on a date for the afternoon.”

“Oh?” my butler blinked, “Is that so? How come I haven’t been informed?”

“Because I’m not exactly sure how solid it will be. Consider it a test run to see if there’s any promise.”

“Mare or stallion, sir?”

“No Gustav, until I’m sure of it, I promise that I will let you in on it. In the meantime, make sure Mr. Brush’s paintings are kept under lock and key until I come back since he’s relying on me to take care of the finances of his art and what not.”

“Very good sir, anything else?” he asked.

“I will return for dinner, the same time as usual. Tonight I’m in the mood for some soup with noodles in it.”

“I’ll make sure to tell the kitchen staff about it.”

“One more thing, is Mr. Brush ready to go yet?”

“At this moment he should have the basket loaded into the taxi with your bodyguard.”

“Thank you, Gustav, that will be all for now and I’ll see you later this evening.” I turned to the door to where I found Fleur and Acrylic waiting for me along with our lunch in the back of the carriage. For the afternoon, I had encouraged the Artist to go without his uniform and instead I let him borrow one of my suits. I must confess, the chap looks much more of a Gentelcolt in that his mane has been brushed, and the white shirt, silkily blue waistcoat and black suit complimented his colors. Besides, he told me that he didn’t own any other clothing except for his uniform. Overall, he does seem rather… handsome.

I also confess that this is would be my real date in several months – even longer than it’s with a stallion. Probably goes without saying that I was curious, nervous and excited at the same time. It’s been a while since I’ve had some fun outside of my job.

The ride to our destination has been a quiet one, but after we reached outside of the city’s limits and into the mountainous countryside, our driver dropped us off at the entrance of Sunlight Falls National Park. The place is known for the magnificent waterfall with its many caves behind it that gives a view of Equestria below.

“So…” Acrylic started as he placed the basket on his back, “Is Fleur coming along with us or…?”

“Well, yes and no.” She replied, “With this kind of protocol, I’m required to still observe you but at a distance and out of sight. So is it to give you both some space while still maintaining your security. Fancy, you know where you’ll be going to, don’t you?”

“Of course Fleur,” I said, “it was at the same place as before.”

She smiled, “In that case, I’ll be taking these,” she pulled out a pair of binoculars and let it hung from her neck. “Have fun you two,” then the mare entered into the park into the path with the most bushes.

One she and the cab driver were out of sight, it now left me alone with Mr. Brush. His ears were folded back, “I say, is something wrong?”

“Uh… no sir,” he said softly.

“You look worried.”

“Well…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “The thing is… This is actually my first date with anypony. I… I don’t really know what to do at this point.”

I trotted over beside him, “Believe it or not, the art of dating isn’t that complicated. Don’t try to pretend to be anyone else but Acrylic Brush; because that’s the one I came to be with. Please remember, you’re not here as hoofcolt, nor are you here as an Artist, but rather you’re here to let me get to know who you are as a pony. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves at this lovely place and have a quiet lunch. Do you think you can manage that?” He gave a hesitant nod, “Wonderful, now please close by, I know a wonderful spot that very few ponies know.”

Down a rocky path through bushes and trees, we pressed forward towards the falls. Sure there were tourists here and there that took pictures and enjoy the nature of the park. But unlike those tourists, I know a picnic spot that has been widely and sadly forgotten. A sharp turn down a narrow dirt path past bushes and boulders the sound of rushing water grew stronger with each step.

Then, around a corner, we had arrived. Before us is the cascading curtain of water that acts as a living window to Equestria. This spot is a naturally hollowed out pocket that at one point could hold at least thirty tourists. But now, this haven is our dining room.

“I believe this is a good spot, wouldn’t you say?” I asked when I turned to Mr. Brush who looked out in awe at the water.

“Are… are we really behind the falls?”

“Oh yes. I dare say that this is the most tranquil place in the world. Sure there isn’t much light except for the falls, but I think we could manage.”

“It’s beautiful.” He said, “How did you know this was here?”

“You can thank Father for that. When I was a colt, our family would go on holidays to where we tour the greatest marvels of Equestria, pony made or natural. My father took us to the park here in which he stumbled into a bush that leads down here. I don’t think that even the park’s rangers know that it exists, but I must say, they’re missing out. Now, time for lunch,” with that we began to unpack from the basket.

While I sorted out the food, Acrylic laid out the blanket, china, glasses, and silverware like he would set the table back home. He was about to pour the lemonade before I stopped him, “Wait, let me do that.” I took the flask into my magic and poured him a glass.

“It’s very weird when you’re the one that’s doing the serving,” he said as he took the glass.

“But you’re not on duty,” I pointed out, “We’re here on a date. So let’s get started,” I spread the food out while taking my seat. “To begin with, how are you today?”

After taking a sip from his glass he replied, “I think… a bit better than I was. I mean, you’ve pretty much pulled off the impossible.”

“Are you referring to getting commissions?”

“And that ponies actually want my paintings, yeah. I honestly thought that something like that won’t ever happen in my lifetime. Mr. Pants, I knew that you were kind but what you did yesterday was… incredible. There’s just no way I could repay for what you did.”

“I don’t expect you to do so anyway,” I said, unwrapping a plate of deviled eggs. “I couldn’t stand by letting your talent going unnoticed, and if I did it would be unforgivable. Nor could I let you think that you were nothing, for you really do deserve better than that.”

He looked away, and I think I could see him blush, “Forgive me, sir, I’m not exactly used to being so highly complimented.”

“That’s what I like about you, your humility is a breath of fresh air compared to my… oh no, let’s not talk about that.”

Acrylic tilted his head to the side, “About what?”

“I was going to compare you to my past dates, but I realized that it wouldn’t be proper.”

“With all due respect Mr. Pants, I didn’t exactly grow up being proper. But I am rather curious though. How many ponies have you’ve dated anyway?”

“Oh…” I crewed on an egg. “It rather depends on how much you want to hear.”

“I would like to know the truth,” he replied. “After all, until I’ve met you, I didn’t know that I wasn’t the only one that prefers my own gender so to speak.”

“Ah. Let’s see… Before I say anything, I should tell you here and now that everyone that I’ve been with didn’t last too long… About three weeks at most if not shorter, along with that I didn’t sleep with all of them. Got it?” he nodded. “The truth is, at this point in life, I have dated fourteen mares and ten stallions (you included). I confess that I have only got to bed with a few hoofful of them. Yet in the end, these relationships didn’t last very long.”

“How come?”

“Well… let’s just say that there’s a reason why I don’t bring alcohol on the first date, everything sounds good when drunk, but you quickly realize that it won’t work out once sober. Plus, do you recall Jet Set and Upper Crust? While they’re not very open-minded, they were right about one thing in their gossip, ‘All those ponies care for is his money.’ I’m sorry to say for most cases, that much is true. Which is another reason why I like you, is that you don’t see money as a factor, do you?”

He shrugged while putting down his glass and picking up a sandwich, “Why would I, especially now when ponies are willing to pay hundreds of thousands of bits of one of my paintings? After all, thanks to you, I think I’m on my way of making my fortune.”

I smiled, “You’re not rich yet Mr. Brush, after all, my mission with you is to get you back on your hooves. Once you required enough money to live comfortably, I will have no saying in where you’ll go afterward.”

“Truth is Fancy; I don’t really want to leave Canterlot, least of all away from you.” He bit into his sandwich, “Out of curiosity, what about Fleur? I know she’s your bodyguard, but did you…?”

Chuckling, I answered, “We have dated a few times, yes. But we found that we weren’t exactly meant to be. But I get it though; she follows me around so much in public that many ponies wonder if we’re still an item. Then again, for being an ex-Royal Guard, her looks can be deceiving. No, she and I have developed a friendship if anything else. So I completely where your line of thought comes from."

“But what about stallions,” he asked. “Is there anything like that from anypony you’ve dated?”

“Believe it or not, you’ve already met him the other day.”

“Who?”

“Hoity Toity. I confess, he was actually the first coltfriend I ever had after we graduated high school. Truth be told, it only lasted for a week because his life is a much quicker pace than mine. That and he prefers to have one night stands then be in a serious relationship. At least I can be thankful we broke it off on good terms, I mean we still talk now and again to see how the other is doing.

“But what about you,” I asked, “I know this is your first date, but have you had any crushes on anypony besides me?”

Blushing, he nodded, “In a way, yes. In my town, I realized that I was different when I… happen to notice that one of my friends was much more… attractive than others.”

“Oh?” I leaned forward, resting my foreleg to prop me up, “What about it?”

“Can I be honest with you?” I nodded, “In our town, we celebrate New Year with an outdoor festival that goes on all night. Well, we have a tradition there that if you kiss the one you really like during the festival, you’ll be blessed with good fortune for a whole year. Well, I was with my friends when a mare, whose name I can’t remember now, came right up to me and asked if she would kiss me. As you can imagine, my drunken friends practically chanted letting it happen. So giving into peer-pressure, I told her to go ahead. And… I felt nothing. There were no spark or whatever, just an awkward, weird and uncomfortable few seconds before she pulled away.

“After that, I spent the rest of the night with a friend of mine, Charcoal. Now, I don’t think he was into me, but I was to him. I remembered that he was a nice guy who looked great and was one of the few that kinda think I had a gift with my art. Well, on that night, he was so drunk that he passed out in the forest. While he was sleeping it off, I had this thought: If a mare didn’t do anything, what would happen if I kissed a stallion? It would be a quick thing, nopony was around, and I was just… curious overall.”

“So I’m guessing that you kissed him while he was asleep.”

“It was the only safe way to do it. And when I did… all I could feel was this warmth. I-I don’t know if there’s any better way to describing it, but when I kissed him, I felt safe, like I could really remain there for all eternity. So when I pulled away, it was then I knew how different I really was.”

“Did he ever find out about it?”

He shook his head, “I doubt he ever did. When he woke up the next morning, he told me he couldn’t remember anything from that night except drinking. I think I’ve told you that having such a kind of relationship was taboo, didn’t I?”

“I think you did mention something like that. Now, be honest with me for a moment, do you feel that way towards me – about feeling safe and all?”

“Well… when you’ve been nothing but kind to me, I feel like I have somepony that I could trust, you know? Someone who doesn’t see me as a pest but as a pony that isn’t all that stupid. That saw this broken machine and is doing all he can to fix it. The truth is Mr. Pants, I don’t want to leave serving in your house, but now I’m a little worried.”

“About what?”

“Think about it, don’t you think that if anypony from downstairs found out that I’m dating the master of the house that they would be jealous towards me? After all, I don’t work as hard as them, and they’re wondering if I’m getting special treatment. After all, I’m only Second hoofcolt in the scheme of things.”

I hummed as I moved onto the sandwiches, “Yes… I do see your point. It would be rather unfair. But then again… you are still a hard worker, so maybe… Acrylic, how would you feel if you got a promotion?”

He blinked, “Promoted to what exactly?”

“I was thinking to take on the role as Valet, which is only one rank underneath a butler. Duties involve would include doing personal services such as maintaining my clothes, running baths, and take care of personal items. Of course, you will still carry out the duties of a hoofcolt, but the difference is that you won’t have answer to Gustav but to me. I haven’t had one in a long while, and it would give you plenty of time doing your commissions as well.”

“But isn’t that what I’ve been talking about,” Acrylic questioned. “Isn’t this still special treatment?”

“Not if you have provided the skills to suggest you can take on this job. On the upside, you can have the opportunity to spend more time with me if you wanted to. Plus, if I could hire a new hoofcolt, you wouldn’t have to weigh tables unless I’m hosting a large number of guests.”

Mr. Brush put a hoof underneath his chin, “That… that could work. But would you be okay carrying this out?”

“I wouldn’t mind. After all, you fancy me (pardon the pun) and I’m interested in getting to know you. Of course, such a change won’t happen right away; perhaps I should wait about a week or so until that plan is carried out.”

Acrylic smiled, “I won’t be going anywhere, so I think I would gladly agree to it.”

“Well then,” I smiled also. “I think I would be looking forward to it as well. Besides, having such a handsome Valet by my side is quite a plus.”

“You really think I’m handsome?” he laughed, “That’s a new one.”

“If I were you, I better get used to it. Besides, that green uniform was becoming unfit for you anyway.”

“Well… thank you, sir,” Acrylic picked up a few potato chips. “I know it’s a little early to ask this but, do you think we could do this again soon?”

“It’s promising so far, I can tell you that,” I picked up my glass, “However, I do say that it is a start.”

Chapter 13: Stallion’s Night Out.

A few days later, it was Saturday night, which could only mean one thing on my calendar: the annual poker game at the Blue Smoke Bar. Every month on a Saturday, I and my friends along with our acquaintances would gather to a dark room where the only light is a lamp above us to play cards and see what was new with everypony. Tonight, now that Acrylic was properly been introduced several days prior, will be that invited guest to the table.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” the Artist asked looking around at the street we’re trotting down. “I don’t like the looks of this.”

“Not much farther now,” I told him.

“So why are we meeting your friends out here for? It doesn’t seem a place to have a night out.”

“That’s rather the point,” I said, turning into an alleyway. “It would be at a place where it’ll be as far away from our worlds as possible without endangering ourselves. Here it is,” down a flight of stairs with a blue neon sign that pointed downward, we entered into the bar.

I do think that I should take this moment to explain what makes this place so special. In my opinion, it is without a doubt, the best-kept secret in Canterlot. Not only does the bar serve liquors and beer that would easily rival the Royal Cellar beneath the palace, but it also has with it some of the best food in town. From hay fries to sandwiches, these ponies had somehow perfected them all. When one enters, it is full of dark woods and tinted light blue lamps that hang overhead the tin tiled ceiling. At the very heart of the establishment is a grand piano that only plays the songs of Horseshoepin, thereby giving the place a relaxing, calm yet, classy atmosphere all around.

Mr. Brush looked at me in confusion, “Why are we at a bar? You know that I don’t really drink right?”

“I know. But we’re not here to drink.” A waitress came up to us, asking if we’ve been helped. “Actually, young lady, we’re here for the poker game tonight.” Understanding what I was talking about, we were escorted to the back rooms, past a dark blue curtain, we stepped inside the black velvet room were the only light source is a blue lamp, a bright green table, and several stallions circling around.

“Well it’s about time,” I heard Hoity’s voice announcing our arrival. By the looks of thing, he was the dealer tonight. “This round’s almost over, but we’ve saved a few seats for you.”

“Thank you Hoity.” I waved a hoof over to the artist, “Everypony, I like to introduce you to Acrylic Brush, although a few of you already met. Mr. Brush, these here are my fellow chaps: Next to Hoity is Lord Night Light, father of Princess Twilight; this is Golden Gavel, an auctioneer for the Ruby Auction House; Doughnut Joe who runs a shop here in the city; Mr. Trenderhoof who is a reporter for the Hidden Equestria magazine; and… I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know you.”

“He’s with me,” Hoity said, “This here’s Fashion Plate, I invited him here.”

As I and Acrylic sat down, I asked, “So I assume that the Professor couldn’t make it tonight?”

“The fella’s got date night with his wife,” said Joe, “you know, being their anniversary and all.”

“I don’t blame him really,” Lord Nightly said, looking at his cards. “I think it’s been forever since those two had any fun. I think I’ll fold on this.”

“Shame, but understandable,” I commented before looking over to the new pony in the group, “Mr. Plate, what sort of occupation do you have?”

“Journalist photographer for Cosmare,” he offered his hoof, “You must be Fancy Pants?”

“Indeed I am. Although I’m afraid that I haven’t heard of you before, are you new to Cosmare?”

“I was the one that got him in,” Hoity said. “He started just this week.”

“Well, congratulations then sir.” At this point, I turned to Acrylic, “Is there anything you would like? Perhaps I could tempt you with one of the snacks they have here.”

“What do they have?”

“Get the fries,” Gavel craned his neck back. “They’re really good here.”

And so, after a winner was proclaimed and an order of those golden hay fries later, Hoity now cut the cards for me and Acrylic to join in.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Trenderhoof spoke to Mr. Brush, “But aren’t you that new painter, the one with all the Impressionist paintings?”

“Um… yeah?”

“I’ve only seen pictures of your paintings in a newspaper, you know, the ones from the exhibit? I want to ask, how did that go?”

“It went off beautifully,” I said. “You can ask Lord Night and Hoity about it, they were there.”

“Went off without a hitch if you ask me,” Hoity commented. “Although the downside is that my commission won’t come for a while.”

“What do you paint?” Gavel inquired.

“From what I’ve seen,” Lord Night answered, “He’s done landscapes, cityscapes, portraits, still lives, and all sorts of things. Although,” his face turned sympathetic, “are you feeling alright Mr. Brush?”

“Sorry,” Trenderhoof gave a confused look, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Don’t ya know?” Joe asked. “This guy nearly jumped off the eighth floor this week.”

“Uh, could we not talk about it?” Acrylic asked.

“But you almost died, didn’t you?” Night questioned, “I mean, it’s a little concerning don’t you think?”

“My Lord,” I stepped in, “Mr. Brush isn’t exactly keen on talking to strangers about his personal problems. He’s doing fine now as you can see. Could we at least change the subject?”

Gavel shrugged, “Since everypony’s here, why not talk about what’s new.”

I nodded, “Lord Night, let’s start with you since you weren’t here the last time.”

“Again, I’m sorry for that,” he said. “Twilie was here when she came up to revisit her old friends. Velvet and I haven’t seen her or Spike for a while and I didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Joe commented. “You had family business to attend to. I can respect that.”

“Let’s see…” Night looked at his cards while tapping his chin with his hoof. “I know Cadence and Shining are trying to make a baby. They said in a letter that Cadie is trying to get pregnant but there’s no luck so far.”

“It’s about time if you ask me,” Hoity said. “I understand running an Empire next to the Frozen North and all, but I’m surprise that this hasn’t happened sooner.”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Night nodded at his cards. “Velvet is trying to pressure them so that she and I could become grandparents. I can’t say the same for Twilight though, since as far as I know still doesn’t have a special somepony.”

“But you’re not pressuring her, aren’t you?” Gavel asked.

“She’s her own mare, castle and all, until the day she introduces that pony to us, we’ll leave her alone. But what we do after that is a different story.”

There was a burst of collective laughter around the table.

“Mr. Gavel, what about you?” I asked. Around the table, we learned that the Golden Gavel is planning to go on vacation, Doughnut Joe is thinking about expanding his business, and Trenderhoof asked around for suggestions for places to go to write about.”

“What about Ponyville?” Mr. Brush submitted, “After all, the place itself is beautiful and it's quite a large town that I expect to be filled with interesting ponies.”

“Quite right,” I agreed, “I think that town would yield up some inspiration.”

“Who knows,” Hoity grinned, “Maybe you’ll find some tail to chase around.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, “Hoity, is that head of yours filled with anything else then sex?”

“And has good taste in fashion? But of course,” he smirked.

“Well, since you’re talking, why not we move onto you. What’s new with you?”

“I have a new coltfriend,” he lowered his glasses over to the tip of his nose and winked at Mr. Plate. “One in which I have a date tomorrow with.”

I turned to the new pony, “He did tell you he’s looking for a one night stand, right?”

“Yeah, so?” Fashion smiled, “It’s been a while, okay?”

“Now it’s your turn,” Joe said, “What’s new with you?”

“Excuse me,” Acrylic stood up, “Do any of you know where a bathroom is?”

“Just turn left, go down straight and you’ll see them,” Trenderhoof pointed out, in which the Artist thanked him for that before he left the room.

“So…” Hoity leaned forward.

I sighed, “To tell the truth, I’ve been keeping myself busy lately, especially with Mr. Brush as of late. You see, what I’ve been doing is to try to cheer him up from his depression.”

“That’s right,” Joe nodded, “the guy works for you, doesn’t he?”

“I read somewhere that he’s a servant,” Hoity asked. “Is that right?”

Nodding, I answered, “Quite, he’s a hoofcolt that I’m planning on to changing it to Valet soon. At least it would give him time to paint with all the commissions he’s getting left and right.”

“That’s rather thoughtful of you,” Trenderhoof said, “Anything else?”

“Actually, there is,” I smiled, “I’m dating again.”

“Oh-ho-ho-ho!” Hoity grinned, “This I gotta hear!”

“Really?” Lord Night inquired, “How serious is it?”

“Now now, we’ve only got started after all.” I lifted my hooves. “After all, we’ve only been on our first date a couple days ago… But, I’m tempted to go out with him again.”

“Is it somepony we know?” asked Fashion Plate.

Looking over my shoulder, I said only one word, “Acrylic.”

“No way!” Hoity stood up in surprise. “You’re dating him?”

“When did this happen?” Lord Night asked.

“Wait, all of you, just hear me out,” I said. “Part of the reason why he was depressed was that he was lonely. Not only that, but he has a crush on me so I thought, why not, and give the fellow a chance.”

“Lucky,” Hoity said. “How come you always get the cute ones?”

“I must say,” Fashion added, “your new coltfriend is fine! H-O-T, fine!”

“Now wait a second,” I interjected; I think my cheeks were filling with blood. “I never said that he’s my coltfriend, we’re just dating for now.”

“When was this again?” Gavel asked.

“I said it was a few days ago, but I admit that I’ve been thinking of going on another date. Only I’m not exactly sure where to.”

“Oh,” Lord Night exclaimed, “Actually, perhaps I could provide it.”

Everypony turned to him, “What do you mean?” Treanderhoof asked.

“You see, I’ve recently bought tickets for my wife and me to go listen to the symphony. Only as it turns out, we won’t be able to make it there. So I’m thinking that maybe I could give those tickets to you so that they won’t go to waste.”

I blinked, “You would do that?”

“What not? What are friends for?”

“Why… thank you, your Lordship.”

He waved a hoof, “Mr. Brush seems like a nice pony, besides, I think what you’re doing is noble. After all, I am commissioning him to paint our family portrait.”

“So what did I miss?” Acrylic reentered into the room.

“Nothing much,” Fashion told him, “Oh! That’s right; we haven’t gotten to you yet, have we?”

“Since we already know what’s new with him,” Trenderhoof said. “Perhaps we should ask him some other questions.”

“Like what?” he asked sitting down next to me.

“Once you get a good income in, what are you planning to do with it? Are you going to get a new house? Spend it on something you want?”

Acrylic sat there for a moment as he picked up his cards. “I want to go to college.”

“You mean returning to it?” Joe asked.

He shook his head, “No, to start it.” The whole room became quiet, “What?”

“You never had been to college?” Mr. Plate questioned in disbelief.

“No. Up until now, there was no way I could afford to go to one.”

“But, have you ever taken an art class?” Lord Night inquired.

“Never. There was no art class where I came from. But in a way, I’m rather glad I never did because all the other art I’ve seen seemed rather impersonal. Yet, I wanted to paint something that was not just personal, but something that even the most common of ponies could relate to. At the same time, however, I wanted to prove that I’m not an idiot by going to college, and the only way you could attend is if you’re rich to do so.”

“But what about student loans,” Joe asked.

He shook his head, “I never wanted to go into debt for trying to live.”

“Sure, I get that,” said the large pony, “But aren’t you a genius or something?”

“You’re no genius until you have a piece of paper that says you are. I mean, if I had that years ago, things would have been different for me.” He looked up from his cards, “So, who’s in?”

Chapter 14: Of Symphony and Sympathy

It’s been a few weeks since the poker game, and I managed to find somepony to replace Acrylic’s old position to make way for his new one. As Valet, his duties in the house are only required during the morning and evening in which I either wake up or before I go to sleep. I confess that it was a little weird at first to have him help me dress and undress as he gives me my cuffs, shirt, vest, collar, bow tie, and suit. Outside of those, he also helps run the bath in the morning, and help maintain my personal possessions, along with taking care of my clothing such as sewing a new button on or repairing tears in my shirts.

Nevertheless, outside of that for him, it leaves him time to take care of his commissions in the afternoon. Ever since his promotion, he’s been painting two or three canvases a day. Mr. Brush told me that each would take an hour-and-a-half to about two hours per picture to create, which left up to me to negotiate the price for each picture with his clients. Why in the past couple of days alone, he’s already made roughly one-thousand-two-hundred bits, and the week isn’t even through!

This leads me here, standing in front of my mirror with Acrylic helping me for a night on the town. “So Mr. Brush, how was painting for Mrs. Silver Cup?”

“She wanted me to paint her flower garden, sir,” he said has he given me my blue vest. “I experimented a little with the colors a bit, and she said it reminded her of Moneigh.”

“I take it that she’s pleased with it?”

“Yes Mr. Pants,” he then took one of my ties, went in front of me to tie it around my collar. “She told me that she liked what I did with the light and said that it would be a perfect present for her husband. Before I forget, she’s coming tomorrow to talk to you about the payment.”

“That’s good to hear,” I looked into the mirror to check on the bow tie. “Now for the suit if you please.” He nodded and went into the walk-in closet. “So how are you feeling today Mr. Brush?”

“To be honest, tired,” there were sounds of coat hangers being moved as he looked for just the right suit. “I’m glad that ponies actually want me, but after a while, it gets rather exhausting.”

“Perhaps that might be because you haven’t taken the time to have some fun?”

“Fun? What is that? I never heard of such a thing sir,” he said as he stepped out with the suit.

I laughed, “Perhaps tonight might be an exception. Acrylic, how would you like to go on a second date with me?”

His eyes widen and stopped suddenly with the suit still on the hanger. “Sorry?”

“I mean, after that picnic, I was hoping that we could, as the young ones would say, hang out again. That is, of course, unless you already have something else planned for tonight.”

“W-Well,” he gave me the slipped the first sleeve before he walked around me for the other. “I didn’t think you would ask.”

“Why would I?”

“To be honest with you,” he said, slipping the other sleeve up the other. “I thought that we went out on the last date was because you felt sorry for me.”

“Not quite, it was more of a test run. One in which I wanted to do again. Lord Night Light had given me his tickets to the symphony tonight since he can’t attend. Box seats too. So do you want to come?”

“What about dinner?”

“Oh that’s right, servants eat late… well don’t worry about it. After the show, I can take you out to dinner to show off my handsome date,” I ended it with a smile.

He looked away with a faint blush, “I’m not handsome, sir.”

“Nonsense. Just come along, it’ll be fun.” There was a pause when a thought came to me, “Have you ever been to a symphony?”

“One that’s played live?” he asked, “No. Not really.”

“Well come anyway. I would love to have you there. Besides, the way you’re dressed now, you can come as you are.”

To my delight, he agreed.

_*_

So after dusting off and giving me my monocle, we were off. Of course, Fleur de Lis came along too on the way to the theater. After we took a playbill of tonight’s performance, we soon separated when we took our seats.

Although we arrived early, there was a good deal of noise going on inside the theater. On stage, musicians were coming on to take their seats, tuning up their instruments or playing a few bars. In the audience, there was a good deal of noisy conversation that combined with the instruments made a racket that created discorded melodies that start from nowhere and end nowhere.

“Is it always noisy in here?” my date asked loudly, we already sat in our box seats and he was covering his ears.

“Don’t mind about that,” I said back. “This noise will be over soon, everypony’s just warming up.”

“What time was it supposed to start again?”

I pulled out my pocket watch, “In a few minutes. Now let’s see what they’re playing tonight.”

We looked at the playbill in Acrylic’s hooves that listed off tonight’s music. They’ll be only playing three pieces according to the paper. The first is String Songs Adagio from his Organ Symphony, the Second is from Gallup Mahler’s Adagietto from his Fifth Symphony, and after intermission was Moztrot’s Clarinet Concerto that took up the second half.

“Have you ever heard of these pieces?” I asked.

He shook his head, “I’ve never heard of these first two before, I think I have with the third but I’m not sure.” We sat there listening to the chaos before he asked, “Have you been to these before?”

“Not as much as I like,” I confessed. “While I do enjoy listening to my records, there’s nothing about music being played live that could beat. I say, what kind of music do you listen to?”

He shrugged, “In the town that I grew up in, there was only a small band that provided all the music for everything. For festivals, weddings, funerals, you name it. I grew up listening to hearing plucking guitars and banging of drums. When I moved to Equestria, I heard recordings of loud and exciting pop songs all the way up here. So I think this’ll be my first time listening to anything like this. Are these songs long?”

“They are,” I told him, “but they’re very beautiful.”

Acrylic looked around the theater at the audience, “They're a lot of old ponies around… probably about two thirds as a whole.”

I chuckled, “That’s because the old are the ones who have an appreciation for this sort of music. The young tend to want what’s new and exciting as you’ve said. Not that it’s a bad thing, but for somepony like me, I tend to want something a little deeper then what a techno band can produce.”

“Deeper?” Mr. Brush raised an eyebrow.

“Just wait and see,” I said while the theater quiets down until our conductor came on stage. There was applause for him that came up to take his place, bowed and opened up the score that sat on a stand. When it all died down, the conductor tapped on the stand three times, cuing the orchestra to ready their instruments before he raised his.

At first, there was a low note of what sounded like an organ before the strings performed their swan song. A melody that a moment later was joined in by clarinets and horns that gave a calming sound of gentle waves of tones.

I turned to Acrylic who was leaning forward towards the orchestra, seemingly transfixed by the music.

“What do you think?” I whispered.

He nodded. “Relaxing, and it isn’t boring at all.”

We sat there for a minute before I changed the subject, “Have you heard anything from your parents?”

“I’ve got a letter from them,” he said softly. As if respecting the presence of the music itself. “They responded about me finally becoming noticed as an artist. Dad was really surprised and Mom was in disbelief that I’m getting commissions.”

“Did you tell them about your attempted suicide?”

He shook his head, “Are you kidding? How do you write to your family about that? ‘Dear Mom and Dad, I got depressed the other day and I almost killed myself by jumping off the side of a building. Don’t worry though, my employer saved me at the last minute. Signed, your son.’ How do you think they’ll react to something like that?”

“But they’re your parents, are they not?”

“So? Do you really think that they would understand? For Celestia’s sake Fancy, the topic of homosexuality is taboo where I come from and they’re not the artist themselves. What comfort would they give if they knew? Or rather, how disappointed would they be that I’m going out with a stallion?” Here his ears folded back against his skull.

I wrapped a foreleg around him, “Does this really concern you?”

“Well… not so much. After all, I’m far away, we communicate through letters, so they can believe whatever I tell them. Sure, it may be a lie, but at least it’s one that they’re ready to swallow. That I’m happy, successful and looking for the marefriend that will never be.”

“Have you been lying to them this whole time that you’ve been to Equestria?”

He shook his head, “Not really, I just happen to leave out some… details about myself. Because I know that they don’t want to hear any of that other then I’m just a happy robot with no worries at all.”

I frowned, “Acrylic, is there something I can do?”

“No. You don’t have to. Just being here is enough with this sacred music playing.” Again we sat there; he was leaning up against me. His eyes were closed, meditating at the holy sound in the theater. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What’s your ideal special somepony?”

I took in a deep breath, “That’s a big question…” I thought for a while, “Well… As I said before, gender for me isn’t much of an issue. But my ideal pony is someone that is selfless about whatever fame or fortune I could offer. Someone that I can fall in love with every day that I would move planets because I know that they would do the same for me, one that while not an exact copy of me, is someone that can give me a new perspective on life and art. I hope to find someone who can teach me about a deeper kindness, deeper compassion, a deeper love that will last. One in which that they could change into another gender, but I will still fall in love with them. What about you?”

He nuzzled against my withers, “For me, I’ve already found him. He listens, he doesn’t see me as stupid, he gave me a second chance to live, he helps immortalize my art, and he cares for me because I’m me.”

Okay, I confess… that was heartwarming. “You really see like that?”

“You did the impossible. I just hope that it doesn’t end when it’s getting good. Fancy, I don’t want this new found luck to change for the worst.”

“Hey, what’s this now?” I softly patted his head. “What are you talking about?”

“I have met many ponies that said they would help me, only to leave halfway through. Just when it seems that dream was going to become real, it suddenly ends. It follows in with the curse I have that prevents me from finding happiness.” For a moment, he went quiet before I heard a quiet sob. “Please… Please don’t make it stop. Don’t wake me up from this dream.”

“Now, now,” I held onto him, “Mr. Brush, do you want to leave?”

He shook his head. As the music played on, he became quiet but as time went on, I could feel the tears running down. This poor bloke, this poor unhappy chap. He was holding onto the only pony within miles that cares. Yes, I admit that I care, but as my father says, “That’s what comes for having such a big heart.”

The night went on; he did recover from his moment of depression but remained quiet after the performance. I took him to a bakery that was near closing time to give him a sandwich. But on the way home, as our cab went down the streets with Fleur beside us, he spoke.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what came over me.”

I patted his back, “No, don’t be.”

“But, I don’t know why I did. There’s no reason for me to be sad. Everything was going fine and then I had to be stupid-”

“Acrylic,” I said firmly, “what happened there wasn’t your fault, or anyone else’s,” I breathed in deeply before continuing: “I think what happened was that you just had a panic attack. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Then, what’s wrong with me then?” he questioned. “I was just there listening to some heavenly music, talking to you and the next… I… burst out crying; only I know there’s nothing to cry about.”

I started rubbing his back, “I don’t see there’s anything wrong with you. Mr. Brush, did I ever tell you that my mother had these panic attacks too?”

He looked up at me, “She did?”

Nodding, I continued, “Even as a child, I remember how she would go from enjoying everypony’s company, then suddenly, and unexpectedly started to break down. She would get very upset, would walk out of the room and cry. Father told me that the best way to handle something like this isn’t to tell them to get over it but to be there to listen to them, and to hold on until it’s passed. And to do one’s best to reinsure that there’s somepony there that cares.”

He looked back down towards the floor of the cab, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t ruin anything tonight; I got to know you a little better. Besides,” I lead forward to kiss him on the cheek, in which he froze, “You were very sweet tonight.”

His hoof reached up to the place where I kissed, a look of amazement as he felt the spot.

Chapter 15: The Portrait of Hoity Toity

Since it was Hoity Toity’s turn, I figured that I would tag along for lunch while Acrylic worked. Fleur didn’t have to come with us as we headed towards the most opulent and safest part of the city. Besides, Hoity’s residence is part of a gated community which means that to bring my bodyguard in would be considered too much considering the security there.

Not to mention that finding Hoity’s home wasn’t hard to find at all. Acrylic, as soon as the taxi entered into the neighborhood, stuck his head out to one of the houses and said, “That is an alarming shade of pink.”

“That’s the old bloke’s house,” I told him.

He looked at it again, “Are you sure?”

I nodded, “I don’t blame you for thinking otherwise, and I admit that his tastes can get rather… too flamboyant, even for my personal tastes.”

“You can say that again.”

“I don’t blame you for-”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Chuckling, I said, “Forgive me, I just couldn’t resist.”

“So who else lives here? I don’t think I’ve been to this part of Canterlot?”

While our taxi pulled over to let us off, I explained, “That’s because you haven’t gotten to the more affluent clients yet such as celebrities and what not such as Sapphire Shores or Caesar. So I must warn you that the ponies in this neighborhood tend to be rather… vain.”

“Like Hoity Toity?”

I shrugged as we approached the elaborate, gold leaf front door, “More or less. But knowing Hoity, he isn’t a bad pony per-say, it’s just that he’s used to living like royalty since he inherited a fortune that he couldn’t help but be a bit… show-offish.”

After the doorbell was rung, Hoity’s hoofcolt let us in and showed us where the chap was in this Rococo maze. Up red velvet stairs and down gilded hallways of either classical statues of stallions or Romantic style paintings of landscapes. Passing dozens of crystal chandeliers we arrived in the dining room that would comfortably fit at least a party of fifty in one room, and there at the end of the Titanic table was Hoity himself. Not to mention without his sunglasses.

“Ah, Fancy! Acrylic,” the gray stallion got up from his cushion seat and walked towards us. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Mr. Brush took a look around the high vaulted, stain glass windows, and the cloud-like mural on the ceiling, “This is humble?”

Hoity laughed as he gave us the Prench greeting by kissing both sides of our cheeks, to which Acrylic blushed. “You’re a funny one, aren’t you? So could I offer you a little something beforehoof?”

Taking a deep breath, the red stallion told him, “I’ve already eaten, sir. Although Mr. Pants hasn’t eaten yet, so I was hoping I could get to work right away.”

“Ah, I see,” Hoity grinned, “straight to the point. I see why you like him, Fancy.”

I snorted, “Now Hoity, you’re not here to flirt with him. He has a job to do and I want to have lunch with you.”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh alright. You’re no fun,” the three of us trotted to the end of the table where most of the food sat. While I took my seat, Hoity looked over at Mr. Brush as he was setting up his tripod. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“No sir, I want to get to work right away.”

“How long will this take?”

“I just have to sketch you is all. Once I got the look of it then I can start painting so you won’t have to hold still for very long.”

“It will be quick,” I told the gray chap. “Just give him about five minutes, and then we’ll have lunch.”

He looked at the Artist in surprise, “What? Right here? Aren’t you worried you might drop some paint on the floor?”

“I will be very careful sir.” After he places the canvas tightly on the easel, he took out his pencil. “By the way, do you want to be looking towards or away from the viewer in this picture?”

He gave him a smirk with some bedroom eyes, “What do you think sweetheart?”

Mr. Brush quickly disappeared behind the canvas and immediately started sketching.

I took the liberty to clear my throat, “I believe it’s considered rude to be hitting on somepony you know that’s dating someone else?”

“Oh, that’ reminds me,” he said, “a little birdy told me that you two went out on a second date. How did it go?”

“We went to the symphony using Lord Night Light’s tickets,” I said. “I would say overall that Mr. Brush was quite sweet overall.”

“That is if you don’t count the hiccups,” Acrylic said behind the canvas.

“What happen?” Hoity inquired.

“To make a long story short,” I told him, “He had a panic attack during the performance but I was able to calm him down. Not in loud wails but just suddenly started crying.”

“Fancy,” Mr. Brush spoke up, “this is embarrassing.”

“Oh, my apologies,” I nodded my head. “I’ve forgotten how sensitive you are with these things.”

“It’s… fine. I’m almost done with his sketch anyway.”

Once the Artist was finished with that step, Hoity and I began dishing out while he set out to put paint on his palette.

“So what about you then old chap,” I turned to the gray stallion. “Single again?”

He always laughs at this joke, “And looking for fun? Of course, I am. I showed Fashion Plate a good time if you know what I mean.”

“Honestly Hoity, with these escapades, I still wonder how you move about without limping the next morning.”

“I’m afraid that’s top secret.” He giggled, “But in all seriousness, for lasting a night, he was really fun. I mean there wasn’t a single negative bone in his body. He was just so positive and lively about everything. And by the time we got into bed,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “Let’s just say it was to die for.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But I’d rather take my time with these sorts of things; after all, I’m looking for genuine love.”

He rolled his eyes, “And I wonder where you find the patience to do it. But speaking of which, are you two going to go out again?”

“We’ve just gone out last night,” I pointed out. “Yet… I am considering it.”

At this point, Mr. Brush craned his neck around, “You are?”

“Oh you lucky, lucky devil,” Hoity said. “Do you know what this means?”

He raised an eyebrow, “That he would want to date me a third time?”

“No no no!” the gray stallion shook his head; “I don’t think you really understand what it means when Fancy here is asking you out a third time, don’t you? You see, he doesn’t declare that you are in a relationship, not if you can prove yourself with a test of his.”

The red stallion blinked, “Test?”

“You see, if you pull off going on three dates with him, he'll then call you his coltfriend. Very few are lucky to make it that far since he spreads these dates every week or so. If you somehow are able to make it good on the third date, then you’ll be with the most sought after bachelor in Canterlot. You’ll be the envy of every mare and stallion in town.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Oh knock it off with that.”

“But is that true,” Acrylic asked, “About the whole test thing?”

After nodding, I explained, “I have to be thorough when it comes to this sort of thing. When you are sought after by gold diggers, I have to be careful when in the romantic field. But at this point, you ought to be honored; very few ponies make it past the first date! Not only that, but even from that hiccup from last night, I still stand by my opinion that you were quite the gentlecolt overall and didn’t overstep any boundaries.”

“But you’re not sure about a third date?” he asked.

“It’s a little too early to tell, but I’m leaning towards yes for now. If this does happen, I think I would hand over where we go over to you this time. I think it’s only fair that you get to treat me out.”

Nodding with a blush, he resumed painting, “I’ll think about it, sir.”

“Hey Acrylic,” Hoity said, “Can I ask you something. And no, it has nothing to do with this hunk over here.”

Mr. Brush put on a skeptic look on his face, “About what?”

“Your painting style: don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore your work. But it’s got me wondering… Why Impressionism? Have you ever tried other styles like trying to make them look realistic or done something modern like Cubism or Abstract art?”

Acrylic painted away, deep in thought as he applied different shades of color onto the canvas. “To be honest, I have seen other artworks before. I’ve seen paintings of Leonardo de Neighci, David, and even Turner in a few books from the town I grew up in. I thought that doing something as realistic as that was impossible since nopony there knows how to do something like that. Picasso and Dali I thought had interesting ideas but they all look weird to me and, if I may say so, impersonal.

“But then, one day before I got my cutie mark, I found this beaten up book. I don’t know where I found it, but what I found inside changed my life. I saw copies of Moneigh’s garden, Cézanne’s fruit, van Gogh’s café’s, or Gauguin’s paradise, and those images… I know this is going to sound crazy, but they all spoke to me in a way I understood. That these ponies took the ordinary of everyday life in nature, in cities, even among other ponies, and turned them into visions of heaven. One that wasn’t cold and stiff, but moving and alive.

“So, as you can guess, I found some brushes, paints, and a piece of cardboard, and I began to paint. When I finished, I found my mark had appeared on my flank. Even when the town, including my parents, called it ‘unfinished,’ ‘disjointed,’ and ‘ugly,’ I knew that it was my calling. I did try to experiment with paints and styles, but my Impressionism always looked the best out of all of them. So I stuck with it ever since.”

“Then how come you doubted your abilities?” Hoity asked, “I’ve read somewhere that you thought every painting you did was bad.”

“When you live in a place that doesn’t see your talent to be going away where, or when you moved out that your art doesn’t catch on, or that you ended up behind a garbage bin because only one of them sold cheaply, I think you too would doubt your talent.”

“But let’s not dwell in the past Mr. Brush,” I spoke up. “We have gotten you back on your hooves now, and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded as he returned to his work.

“So Fancy,” Hoity asked, “is there anything you’re looking forward to?”

“Well… I have this idea in my head that, I think it might be time to take a vacation.”

“Where to?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ve got enough cash to go to Mars and back, only I’m not exactly sure where to go except for something exotic.”

“What about Neighpon?”

“Sorry?”

“Well, didn’t your Dad go there for a while?”

“Yes, why?”

“How about it? Just take yourself and your possible coltfriend out of the country to Neighpon? Go on a bit of an adventure to a place you’ve never been before… You haven’t been there, have you?”

“No, I haven’t. I should probably ask Father about it and see. But in the meantime, I’ll think it over.”

“Finished sir,” Acrylic announced as he stepped away from the portrait.

Hoity got up and went over to face the painting. His jaw dropped, “My… hello me.” Judging by the satisfying grin on his face, I could tell that he’s in love with himself. “You sir are getting quite the check before the paint is even dry.”

Chapter 16: The Dinner from Tartarus

I’ve always preferred to have quiet breakfasts, just to give a tranquil moment to myself before I set to work. In front of me at the table is my plate of toasts, deviled eggs, and a fruit salad. To my right is a glass of cranberry juice while on my left is the newspaper. I’m trying to pay attention to the news over the rain that’s coming down this morning.

It’s been about a week since I and Acrylic visited Hoity Toity, and I confess that I haven’t made up my mind about dating Mr. Brush as of yet. Since I have been busy with charities and setting up new exhibits, I haven’t found myself to have the time to do so. While Acrylic on the other hoof is still busy painting left and right. But I get the overall sense that we need to spend somewhere outside of Canterlot.

Even at this calm morning, a vacation would sound absolutely de-

Suddenly, there was a piercing scream coming inside the house.

“What was that?” I stood up from the table, turning to my butler.

“That sounded like it came from downstairs,” Gustav and I started to head towards the servant’s quarters. After asking where the screaming came from, we were pointed towards Mr. Brush’s room. Inside we found the bloke in a full panic, stuffing what few belongings he had into his bag in a mad dash.

“Mr. Brush,” I entered the humble room, “Whatever is the matter?”

“I- I can’t stay here! They’re coming up and I just can’t be here!”

“Acrylic,” I put both hooves on both sides of his shoulders, “Get ahold of yourself! Just stop for a moment and calm down.” His hyperventilate breath slowed in a matter of minutes. “Now, I’ve heard you screaming not too long ago. What’s gotten into you to make you suddenly pack up and leave?”

He pointed to the open letter on the desk, “I’ve just got the worst possible news.”

Curious, I picked up the letter. It said the following:

Dear Acrylic,

Before I give you the good news, I want to thank you once again for sending us some bits last week. Thanks to you, we’ve been able to pay off the Landlord along with just enough to get some new things such as a bathtub and a bed. We want to know that we’re doing pretty well so far that we’re almost well off.

In fact, we now have more than enough that just to let you know, your mother and I are coming up to see you. At the moment I’m writing this, we’re in a little town called Appaloosa in which we’re hoping to see you in Canterlot by five. We miss you and with the news that your job is going well, we’re coming to see it for ourselves.

Your mother says she’s interested in seeing your commissioner that’s gotten your career off the ground.

So with that in mind, we should be arriving in Canterlot as soon as Friday at around five if the train is on time.

Hope to see you soon,

-Dad.

I turned to my butler, “Gustave, I want to speak with Mr. Brush alone.”

“Very good sir,” he said before closing the door behind us.

“To be honest with you Acrylic,” I said sitting on the edge of his bed. “I don’t really see what the cause for panic is about. Your parents are coming here tonight.”

“No, Fancy, you don’t understand.” He sat next to me, “I can’t let them meet you because I already know what’s coming. They’re gonna come up here, and they’ll figure out what’s really going on.”

“What are you talking about?”

He took in a deep breath, “Mr. Pants, please listen to me for second. I haven’t told them that I’m working for you as a servant. All I’ve been writing them about is that I’m a successful artist. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘Where’s the problem in that?’ The problem is that if they come right here to find out that I haven’t exactly told them the truth about what really happened to me here, they’ll drag me back to Lightning Falls for sure! They’ll think I’m a failure, a liar, that I didn’t become what I said I was-”

“What do you mean they’ll take you back?” I interrupted. “You’re in your thirties, aren’t you your own guardian?”

He shook his head, “In Lightning Falls, you are not considered an adult until you are able to do your trade successfully and honestly. If they found out that I was broke and homeless, they’ll know that I haven’t been honest with them, and therefore I cannot be independent.”

My jaw dropped to my withers, “Are you joking?”

“I wish I was, which is why I need to leave,” he returned to his bag. “As long as I don’t run into them, I can still live here in Canterlot.”

“Now Mr. Brush, let’s not be rush,” I asked. “Don’t you think you’re blowing this out of proportion?”

“Point is I’m nowhere close to ready to meet them,” he said as he stuffed a bag of bits into the bag. “And to top it all off, if either of them finds out that we’re dating, even though we’re not officially a couple, they are going to explode.”

Oh dear. “Well, I can see why you would be a little bit stressed out. But at the same time, I don’t think it’s wise to run away from your problems.”

“Easy for you to say, I’ve met your father, and trust me when I say this, he and my parents are nowhere close to being alike. I’m not sure how things are here in Equestria, but where I come from, we take family very seriously. Until you’re considered an adult by your parents, you have no right to say anything to the contrary, especially if you have failed by yourself. So if they knew, they can order me around like a foal.”

“So in other words, you’re considered an adult in their eyes until you’ve proven that you can be independent.”

“Exactly,” he nodded.

I thought for a moment, “Mr. Brush, if you want, I can speak with your parents and I won’t talk about your duties in the house but tell them about your rise to success as an artist.”

He blinked, “You mean that you’re willing to lie to them?”

“I didn’t say that. I’ll them how I came across your work and about the number of bits your commissions pay for. But I won’t talk about your history of being poor, a hoofcolt or a Valet. I’ll invite them over to dinner tonight where we’ll prove to them that you are capable of being on your own.”

“You’re… You’re willing to do that?”

I smiled, “Of course, anything to give my favorite artist a good recommendation.” At this point, I stood up and opened the door, “Gustav?”

A moment later, my butler craned his neck in, “Yes sir?”

“Would you tell Ms. Copperpot that we’ll be expecting to have Mr. Brush and his parents over for dinner? I want her to offer the finest cuisine that Canterlot has to offer.”

“Very good sir.”

_*_

Hours later that day, I and Mr. Brush stood there side by side on the front steps while the servants waited on the sidewalk. I admit that part of me was curious to know what Acrylic’s parents are like. This would be the first time that I would be meeting them and I’m hoping to make a good impression on them.

I’ve sent a cab to fetch them and whatever belongings they brought along to bring them to the house to give them a Canterlot Welcome. The dinner was prepared to be served hot and the Dining Room’s pictures have been removed temporarily to show off Acrylic’s finest work.

Now all that’s missing is for his parents to arrive. I confess that I’m not sure who’s more nervous about the whole affair: me who has no idea what to expect or Mr. Brush fully knowing what to anticipate.

About ten minutes after five, a taxi pulled over by the sidewalk and out stepped out a Pegasus mare with a white mane and a yellow coat while the other was a red stallion with a light green mane. Both Acrylic and I stepped forward towards the couple.

“Hello, Mom and Dad.”

“Acrylic,” his mother went up and hugged him. “We’ve missed you so much.”

“Hello son,” his father said as he was unloading a pair of suitcases from the carriage.

“Pardon me sir, but I don’t think that will be necessary.” I turned to the hoofcolts and asked them to take their luggage up to the guestroom. Once this was done, I went up to the father. “Good evening sir, my name is Fancy Pants; I’m a friend of your son.”

“Ah, hello there,” he took my hoof and shook it. “This is an amazing place you’ve got here. The name’s Dusty and that there’s my wife, Fan.”

“How do you do,” the mother took her turn to shake my hoof. “Acrylic has told much about you.”

“Has he?” I looked over to the Artist. “Well then, how about we all go inside and have some dinner?”

The parents looked at each other, “Oh we don’t want to be a bother,” Dusty said.

“Nonsense, when the father and mother of my most favorite living artist are in town, how can I not invite them to dine?”

“Well, before we do,” the father said as he took out from his suitcase a rock pouch. “Here, something from home.”

Acrylic opened up the bag and peered in it, “Opals, and uncut too.”

“Some of the best from the mines,” he said. “Consider it as a congratulations gift.”

We escort the newcomers towards the dining room in which I heard some “Awe’s” and “Oh’s” along the way. Together, the four of us sat down in which we were immediately served soup.

“Please don’t eat too much,” I warned, “we have a few courses to go before dessert.”

“So Acrylic,” Fan began, “How did you get to know your rich friend?”

“By accident,” I explained. “I came across him on the way home when I noticed that he was throwing away this picture,” I pointed to the painting. “I admired the craftsmanship that I seek out for Mr. Brush here to see if he would be willing to do more. You might say that I got lucky considering the attention he’s gaining now.”

“I’m hired by mostly rich ponies,” Acrylic chimed in. “With friends of Mr. Pants took notice of all the artwork that I’ve made, suddenly I’ve got commissions left and right to do this or paint that. In other words, I’ve been keeping myself busy.”

“So I can see,” Dusty said after a spoonful. “So Mr. Pants or can I call you Fancy?”

“Either one is fine.”

“Alright, what exactly do you do Fancy?”

“Well, to put it in the simplest of terms. I’m constantly on the lookout for the finest art there is from fashion to Acrylic’s paintings and give them attention. While Mr. Brush has done all the work in creating these masterpieces that you see, I was the one to get the word out, so to speak.”

His mother looked around the room, “I’m still surprised really, we didn’t think he would make it like this with his painting.”

I raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Acrylic has always made paintings like these. A bunch of paint that isn’t very clear, not that detailed, and kinda messy. I thought that to be a good artist you have to paint something that’s, well, lifelike.”

My eye glanced over at the Artist who frowned but said nothing.

“Not to mention that they’re odd looking,” his father agreed. “For a while, we didn’t think he had the skills to be an artist.”

“But Mr. Brush has come a long way,” I said. “He has demonstrated that he has an amazing talent when it comes to Impressionism.”

“For you, sure,” Fan said, “But for me, it’s not really my thing. Some of them looked like something that a foal would make. However, if it’s something that you ponies like and makes a profit, who are we to object.”

“Can we change the subject?” Acrylic asked, still looking sternly. I don’t blame him really, what they’ve said was rather rude.

“Certainly,” I said, “so then, Dusty, Fan, is this your first time in Equestria?”

“It certainly is actually,” the father nodded. “We took the train eastward to see our boy. Although I must say, there are some major culture shocks here and there.”

“Oh? Such as?”

“Well you see,” the mother said, “now that Acrylic is sending us some bits in, we’ve decided to try to follow in his hoofsteps of his travels. Sometimes by train and others on hoof, you know. Anyway, the first place we went to is to Applewood, and we were surprised to see such a variety of, well, everything. We’ve heard a wide range of music, of food, and other creatures such as gryphons in which we don’t see that often in Lightning Falls.”

“Then we took a train north to Vanhoover,” Dusty continued. “We entered a bookstore there in which we saw more books in that space then what our little mining town has.”

“After that, we went towards the Crystal Empire,” Fan said nostalgically. “I tell you that although second to this city, it was gorgeous! I didn’t think you can make such structures from crystal.”

“Next we took the train to go south to Appaloosa, where we’ve encountered buffalo for the first time, surprisingly nice too.”

“It sounds like you two and Acrylic have traveled quite a bit, if I say so myself,” I commented.

“Quite,” the father nodded, “Of course, there’s one other thing we found really surprising.”

“And what’s that?”

“Well,” Fan leaned forward. “To be honest, I think on this trip, we’ve probably seen more queers here than we’ve ever seen in a lifetime.”

I suddenly paused at this, “Care to explain,” I said carefully.

“I mean,” Dusty explained, “when we were in West Applewood, I swear that we’ve seen more faggots walking together on one street. Holding hooves and kissing, in public, honestly, they have no sense of decency whatsoever.”

“And don’t let me get started with what we saw in the train up here from Ponyville,” Fan laughed. “Right behind our seat, there were these two dykes that talked about their anniversary, while foals were present in the car! I mean can you believe that?”

“I can actually,” I said returning to my soup. “I’ll have you two know that here in Equestria, we accept those ponies who have attractions to the same gender as something normal. I myself have very good friends who are homosexuals themselves, even transgender too that are well respected.”

“But don’t you worry though?” the father asked, “How do you know any of them are ready to take advantage of you? They’re perverts after all.”

“I don’t believe so,” I said without looking up. “You’d be surprised how many ponies in Canterlot alone are actually accepting of others. While not perfect, at least some of us have the common curacy to not jump into conclusions about a whole group of ponies based on foalish stereotypes.”

“But there must be some truth in it,” the mother insisted. “I don’t see how you can even tolerate something like this; it almost sounds like you’re a faggot lover or something.”

It was at this moment that all three of us jumped when Acrylic slammed his hooves on the table. We looked up at him as he stood up, “How dare you? Do the two of you have any shame whatsoever?”

“Acrylic? What’s the matter?” Dusty asked, “We were just talking about facts here.”

“Do you really have no idea what just came out of your mouths?” he asked angrily. “Both of you have just not only insulted what Equestria stands for, but you’ve insulted Mr. Pants as well.”

“What does Fancy get to do with anything?” his mother inquired.

“He’s Pansexual, which means that he’s attracted to all genders, that he can’t help it. And before you ask, no! He has never once taken advantage of me or any of the servants in this house! Fancy is the kindest, most open-minded, generous, and most wonderful stallion I’ve ever met, and to put him in the same category of perverts is downright insulting. So, let me ask you again, have neither of you has any shame?”

Dusty frowned, “We were just saying what we believe.”

“Well, from what I’ve just heard, do you want to know what I believe?” Acrylic asked. “I wish I was still in your loins! I wish that you and Mom have never met! I wish that both of you would have died before I was even born!”

Both of the parents gasped at this. “Acrylic, son,” Fan asked, “What are you saying?”

“You’re dead to me!” he marched over to the door that leads to the servant’s quarters. “So get your things and get out of this house! I am never sending you a single bit ever again! You two! Dead!” with that, he slammed the door.

I confessed, as harsh as it was, I cannot blame him for the outburst from over what I’ve just heard. “Mr. and Mrs. Brush,” I turned to the shocked parents. “I believe that this would be a good time for you two to get out of my house. I’ll have the servants return your bags and I’ll give you enough bits for the hotel three blocks down the street. Now, if either of you two won’t mind, get out.”

Thank Celestia, they did. While at the same time, I could have sworn that I heard the mother sobbing. But at this point, I’m not sure, and neither do I care.

_*_

I waited for an hour for things to calm down. To which on my back I balanced a tray of ice cream and I’m about to knock on Acrylic’s door. “Mr. Brush, can I come in?” From the other side, there was no answer so I let myself in.

There on the bed with a pillow over his head, the Artist lay there, crying. Place the tray down on the tiny nightstand; I too lay on the bed, hugging him. “It’s alright Acrylic.”

“How?” he choked. “I’ve just d-disowned my own parents! I-I didn’t mean to y-yell at them.”

I began rubbing his back, “Now, now. What happened back there… if I had more of a backbone to that sort of bigotry, I would have lost my temper too.”

“But,” he took the pillow off of his head, “do you know what this means now? I have no family anymore. I knew that they would say things like that, and I know they’re not as open-minded as you or your father, but they are still my family… or they were.” He implanted his face into the pillow, “I’m a terrible pony!”

“No, that’s not true. You stood up for what you believe was right. You stood up against their prejudices and denounced what all that really was. Ignorance. Look, I know what you did was hard, but the only ones that could change their minds is themselves, yet, you gave them a reliable voice in which that changes how they see things. Besides, I was rather touched too.”

He looked up at me with confusion, wiping away his tears, “You were?”

I smiled, “That you told them that I’m, as you put it: ‘the kindest, most open-minded, generous, and most wonderful stallion you’ve ever met.’”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

Chuckling, I agreed, “Oh quite. But the fact that in the face of such hatred, you stood up for me was very heartwarming Acrylic, and I’m honored to know a fellow stallion that is chivalrous. This is why I’ve made up my mind in asking you on a third date.”

Mr. Brush didn’t say anything other than he hugged me back. “If only there were more ponies like you.”

“Now, now,” I sat up, drying his tears. “Let’s not what happened at dinner spoil an evening like this.” With my horn, I levitated the tray over to us, “Ice cream?”

Chapter 17: A Nightly Stroll

I let Mr. Brush decide what we would be doing for our third date. After all, I took him out twice and his turn was already overdue. But I gave him enough time to plan out whatever activity he had in store for us, and he hasn’t given me any clue as to what exactly it is.

By now, it has been a week since his parents visited that Acrylic is assisting me to be getting ready for our date. He already put my suit on and was brushing some loose hairs off from it. “Can you give me a hint, or do you want to keep it as a surprise?”

He put down the brush and hoofed me my pocket watch, “Well, I won’t say where, but I will tell you that it’ll be someplace quiet… you wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

“On the contrary, I’d welcome it. Though that’s the first time that any of my dates had ever decided to take me someplace where there isn’t any blasting music.”

“What do you mean?”

“For some, their idea of dating involves going to a club filled to the brim of drunken strangers, dancing to the latest song with enough flashing lights to give one a headache while somewhere in the back rooms there’s some sort of debauchery going on. But you’re not quite the partying type though.”

“No sir,” he said as he lifted my left foreleg to put one of my cuffs on. “When you grow up in a place where ponies like us aren’t really seen, you always feel like an outsider. I don’t really see the appeal, to be honest, Mr. Pants.”

“With Hoity’s perspective, I understand to a degree. He used to do so all the time as soon as I reached the drinking age. In those days there was a sort of thrill when you’re not sure who you’ll end up hooking up with.”

“But I suppose that didn’t last?”

I shook my head, “I’ve quickly learned that there was nothing fun about hangovers and finding out how hollow that sort of entertainment was. So now, I’ve learned to watch how much I drink and be more cautious about those who want to go to bed with me.

“Still, I am rather curious what we’re doing tonight. We already had dinner and it’s almost nine.”

“Just wait and see sir,” by now Mr. Brush was circling around me to see I was fit to leave the house. “I think you’re ready, and so am I.”

“Excellent,” I nodded in the mirror. “Shall we get going then?”

“Yes sir,” Mr. Brush opened the door. “I think our ride should be waiting for us.”

I followed the bloke down the stairs and out the front door where there was a carriage waiting for us. Right away I was curious because, for one, this carriage was covered unlike the taxi’s which was black and had dark blue curtains. So in other words, this was a luxury carriage. Even what intrigued me more was that the drives that were hooked up to pulling this thing were a couple of Lunar Guards.

Acrylic trotted up to open the door for me. I was impressed to find that it was spacious enough for a party of six to ride in, but it came with an icebox with a row of crystal glasses. Not only that, but the inside was lit with electric lighting with blue shades of stars.

“What’s all this?” I asked as I got in with him following close behind. “This can’t be yours, isn’t it?”

Mr. Brush knocked on the walls of the carriage, “Drive on,” he said before I felt it move. “To answer your question, no it isn’t.” He then sat down between me and the icebox. “When you gave me this opportunity to go on this date with me planning it all this out, I had to ask for a favor from a certain pony.”

“Well, you’ve certainly gotten my attention alright.” I was about to peek through the curtains before Acrylic stopped me.

“Don’t do that, I want to make our destination a surprise.” He opened the icebox and pulled out a cold jug from it. After pouring a glass of a yellow but familiar substance he offered it to me.

I took it with my magic and gave it a sip. “Braezilian lemonade. Whatever we’re doing, you’ve certainly came prepared.”

“I knew it would be something that both of us would like,” he said as he poured some lemonade for himself. “I’m actually hoping that all this goes right tonight.”

“Oh?”

“What your friend said, about the whole three date thing. When you gave the reigns over to me (so to speak), I just wanted to make sure that this would go well and… well…”

“You’re hoping that I would be your coltfriend, is that it?”

He nodded, “I’m hoping I could pull off this miracle of actually having a real relationship of a pony that I care about. I know that my tastes are… what’s the word? Simplistic. But I want to actually express my romantic side to you Fancy.”

“Understandable,” I sipped some more. “I hope I didn’t put you in any sort of stress for little old me.”

He snorted, “You’re not that old to me.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean I didn’t get you paranoid enough into thinking that if this or that detail is out of line it would off throw the very balance of the universe.”

“Not to where we’re going,” he said. “I think you’ll like the place since I let… the pony that I’ve asked the favor to arrange it.”

“Ah, the plot thickens. I’m guessing that this happens to involve one of the Princesses?”

His eyes widen, “How did-”

“The Lunar Guards was a bit of a giveaway.”

“Oh…” he blushed in embarrassment.

“But I still don’t know where we’re headed.”

“You’ll know soon enough.”

“A change in subject then,” I took a gulp of the lemonade. “How did you get Princess Luna to arrange this?”

“Do you remember back at the gallery when she told me that if I needed somepony to talk to, I can always come to her? Well, I told her my predicament in planning for our date, and she was rather… what’s the word? Intrigued? Yeah, that was it. She was intrigued that I was taking you out. After a while, we talked and formed a plan in which wouldn’t need to involve Fleur spying on us.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Why Mr. Brush, having my bodyguard spying on our intimate moments, whatever gave you such an idea?”

Our ride lasted for about five minutes before we felt it come to a halt. There was a knock on the carriage door, “Well,” Mr. Brush said, getting up from his seat, “Off we go into the unknown.” He opened it and gawked as he stepped out, “Oh wow… Fancy, you’ve gotta see this!”

And so I did, when I stepped out of the carriage, I could have sworn that I’ve heard music playing in the distance. But when I looked up, my eyes were open so wide that my monocle fell out. We were in the Royal Gardens and at the same time it wasn’t. Above us was mange lights that hung over our heads like stars while there was a mist that swirled around the lights and curled over our heads. The mist was in various colors of blues, greens, gold, white, and deep violets that pulsed and glide. The plants, statues, flowers, gravel and even the grass itself seemed to move in the lights above that made it look as it the garden was underneath a sea of light purples, blues, grays, pinks, turquoise, and silver.

It was as if we’ve stepped inside one of Acrylic’s paintings to the music of Mahler’s Adagietto.

“I honestly didn’t think it would be this beautiful,” He told me.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan,” I nudged him with a hoof. “So now I think I know where we are, what exactly are we doing here?”

“Oh,” he blushed sheepishly, “Well… I was wondering if… Fancy… Would you walk with me and talk a little?”

Now it makes sense. He just wanted to have a quiet nightly stroll through a garden that’s closed at night. “I would love to. Lead on good sir,” we started to follow a path through what looked like to be moonflowers. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, for starters, I was hoping if you could tell me a little bit of yourself. Like how did you get your cutie mark?”

I glanced over to my flank at the three crowns, “You know most ponies that would look at this and would easily mistake me for a noble. Although consider the fortune, the mansion and how much influence I have in Canterlot, that’s easy to come to that conclusion. But to be honest, I actually got my cutie mark late.”

“Really?”

Nodding, I explained, “It wouldn’t be until midway through Jr. High that I would earn it. Of course, it was a bit humiliating that I was the only one in class to not have a cutie mark. In fact, I would be often been called ‘Blank Pants,’ by the other students. For a long time, I often wondered if there was something wrong with me.

“But that changed on one Nightmare Night dance. I remember that everypony was in costume for the occasion. Now, for the life of me, I can’t remember what I had on, but I did remember seeing this one filly in a Maredusa costume. She looked rather sad, and I can tell that she had put in a good deal of work into it like making her mane look like snakes and what not. Well, something compelled me to go over to talk with her. Now, mind you it wasn’t in a romantic sense but more out of curiosity. I went up to her and asked her what the matter was.

“She told me that she was planning to enter one of those contests that judges on the creativity of the costume, but she was having doubts about entering it. She said that although she had spent hours getting her mane and tail to look like that and she designed the dress herself, that she still thought there was no possible way of winning with all the effort she put into it. I told her otherwise, that her attention to detail was extraordinary; she shouldn’t have anything to worry about except go on stage.”

“Did she?” Acrylic asked as we turned into a grove of trees.

“I’m glad she did. When the costume contest came about, she was on that stage as a contestant, which, if I may add, she did end up winning. To be honest, I didn’t realize that I had my Cutie Mark until I returned home and mother pointed it out. For a long time, I pondered for several months to figure out what exactly I did differently. After all, I just gave some words of encouragement to that filly about overcoming her self-doubt. But then it came to me, it was much more than that, I realized that I had a much heavier responsibility.”

“Which is?”

“I have the responsibility to be on the lookout for those who have creative minds in the most unlikely places and transcend them above what they think they could accomplish – to seek out others that are worthy of opportunities once shut behind them. Although I promise you that there isn’t a drop of noble blood in me, what my Cutie Mark represents is something that I think is truly honorable.”

“Not to mention you’ve saved my life because of it.” The Artist pointed out. We now entered into the ponds, where with the lights hanging overhead, the water too looked like a living painting with its lily pads that floated there among the water flowers.

“You’re very much welcome,” I said. “Let’s rest for a moment,” we sat down by the water. “So a change in subject, are you feeling alright Acrylic with what happened with your family?”

Sighing, he replied, “Not really. Again, I apologize for all those awful things they’ve said, I didn’t really expect that it would take a turn like that.”

“And again, you’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“But I still feel bad about disowning them. I somehow knew that something like this would happen, but I didn’t imagine that I would be the one doing it. Look I know I was mad and all but once I calmed down and realized what I done… I realized I was the one that confirmed what they say about us ponies. That we break up families, and I did just that.”

“No family is really broken up unless everyone agrees to.” Mr. Brush looked up at me with a puzzled look. “The only way that either parent or child to be truly be separated is if either let it be. No matter who your family is made out of, or what they’ve done and said, nopony is separated unless you agreed to be separated. Take it from somepony whose father and I learned the hard way.”

“At least I know you and your father are on good terms… that reminds me, how is he doing anyway?”

“He’s not sick anymore, which is some good news.”

“Oh…” Acrylic looked over to the pond in thought, “Fancy, if we… if we do actually get together, what happens next?”

I shrugged, “Enjoy life together I suppose. As of now, I want to see your dreams become reality, and if I’m lucky, maybe you’ll make mine come true as well.”

He looked up at me in surprise, “You have dreams? Even when you have everything?”

“Not quite true. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a family of my own. I’d figured that I try to find the perfect companion first before I start rearing some foals.”

“By what? Adoption?”

“It’s a possibility. I think I’m already old enough to do so. But what about you, do you want to have a family?”

Mr. Brush looked down at his hooves, “I never thought it was ever possible for me. To tell you the truth, while I have watched over children back in Lightning Falls, I knew that I would never have any of my own because I’m not exactly attracted to mares. Nor could I imagine of being with someone that could help me with it. But in our town, you’re nopony unless you have a family to call your own, especially if you got no children. At the same time, I know I can’t do it all on my own.”

I wrapped a foreleg over him, “Neither can I,” I said. “Acrylic, you are certainly an amazing stallion that I’m fortunate enough to gotten to know. I am grateful that you’re here with me and I’m finally sure that I want to enter a deeper relationship with you. Mr. Brush, will you be my coltfriend?”

He nuzzled me before saying, “Fancy, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” Then he straightens up, “Uh… Fancy. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, can I kiss you?”

I chuckled, “Now Acrylic, that’s something you don’t need my permission with.”

Now, I confess that Mr. Brush didn’t hesitate to lean up to kiss me on the muzzle. Mind you, I have my fair share of kisses in the past form several ponies before. Yet, this one was different. I’m not sure if words would do it justice. Those several seconds seemed like years in comforting warmth on those soft lips. It was as if there was a sense that the very thing that was lost has been found. No surprise really, when I too kissed back.

Also, perhaps it’s the setting or the kiss itself, but I could have sworn that somewhere in the garden, I heard somepony squeeing. Or maybe it was just me.

The kiss ended and Acrylic wiped the saliva from his coat sleeve, “Thank you, sir.”

I laughed as I pulled him closer, “I say, we ought to do that a little more often.”

He smirked with a heavy blush. “So, are you going to tell Gustav about this once we get back? I mean, I’m still your Valet here.”

“You let me handle my Butler, so you don’t worry about a thing. Besides, Hoity is right on one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Acrylic, how would you like to go to Neighpon with me? Both as my Valet, and coltfriend?”

“Of course I’ll go,” he nuzzled my neck, “But for the moment, can we stay here for a while?”

I looked out over the living painting of the lily pond, “Of course Mr. Brush, I’m in no hurry tonight.”

Chapter 18: The Present

Author's Note

First, I want to apologize for not uploading anything for a while. I've been getting distracted and people asked me to do this or that favor. Not to mention that I have too many ideas I want to explore with this story.

But for the moment, let's take them one at a time, and let's enjoy the story.

Chapter 18: The Present

“Mr. Brush?” Gustav asked in surprise, “As in the Valet, the painter, Mr. Brush?”

I nodded; my memories were still fresh for last night’s date as I sat down to eat breakfast. “Indeed, from last night, he has proven himself to be a capable coltfriend in my eyes. I am rather sorry for telling you this now, but I wanted to make absolutely sure if I really wanted this relationship with him. Now it seems that I have.”

“That’s understandable sir,” my butler said. “Though, to be honest, I never took it that Mr. Brush was into stallions at all since he usually keeps to himself.”

I raised an eyebrow, “You mean that he’s quiet downstairs?”

“Shy is a better term I would use sir. Some of the maids and hoofcolts are lucky to make small talk with him from time to time. Mr. Brush usually focuses on either his duties in the house or paints as far as I’m aware of. Although looking back, it really does make sense that he’s a little talkative around you.”

“This is just a thought Gustav,” I said spreading some butter on my toast. “Does Acrylic have made any friends from downstairs?”

My butler thought for a moment. “I would think that the closest pony that he has to a friend in the house would be Ms. Copper Pot. I’ve seen him ask her for advice every so often. But outside of that, I’m not so sure.”

“One of these days, we ought to get him to be with like-minded ponies to make friends with.” I mused before munching on a piece of toast, “Preferably ones that know how to cope with depression and to deal with stressful moments. The last thing I want at this point is for him to attempt suicide again.”

“Sir, since you told me about who your coltfriend is, it does present a question from me.”

“That being?”

“Don’t you think that Mr. Brush is getting some special treatment because you have an interest in him? When word gets to everypony downstairs, I’m afraid it could spread some jealousy. After all, he went from the second hoofcolt to Valet in about a month. You’re not going to make him do any less work or that sort, are you?”

I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “You know, Acrylic did bring the matter to me before. I actually promoted him not for the reason so he could work less, but rather so that he could attend his other job as an artist. He’s not quite ready to leave as of yet. Mr. Brush will still have the hours and payment that is fair, but whatever bits he gets from outside of the household is his alone, even when I discuss the prices. So no, you can tell the staff that he’ll get just as much treatment and payment as the rest of them.”

“Very good sir,” he nodded. “Is there anything else I ought to know?”

“There is actually. Gustav, I’m planning to take a holiday to Neighpon, beginning two weeks from now.”

“For work or pleasure?’ he inquired.

“The latter, it’s been a while since I’ve gone somewhere for the sake of enjoyment. Besides, I’ve saved enough bits to go someplace exotic. But of course, I’m going to need to do some planning here and there.”

“So I can assume you’ll be taking Mr. Brush with you?”

I shrugged, “He is both my Valet and coltfriend after all. I don’t see why not. Besides, I’ve asked him last night and he said that he’s willing to go.”

“Do you know where in Neighpon you’ll be going to?”

“I could always ask father about his time in Neighgasaki, I’m sure he’ll come up with a few ideas or at least met somepony over there.”

_*_

“When was the last time you’ve owned a pet?” Fleur asked. By now it was nearing dinner time and I’ve already carried out some deals for a future gallery. As to where we are, we’re in a pet store, looking through the various cages and tanks of yipping dogs, slithering snakes, purring cats, silent fishes, and gossiping birds.

“It’s not for me per-say,” I answered her as I looked through the section of the store that has rows of felines. “Rather it’s on the lines of getting Acrylic the perfect present.”

“But why a cat?” she questioned as she too looked at the cages, “Aren’t they a lot of work to take care of?”

“Well, when father was here, we found out that the town he grows up in practically worships these felines and see them as protectors against evil spirits. I figured that given the recent events with his parents, I figured that he would want a furry companion when I’m not exactly there. Father suggested that I ought to get one. Besides, from our date last night, I found out that he wants to have a family someday, so why not give him something that helps prepare him for that sort of responsibility.”

“That’s… actually thoughtful of you,” Fleur commented. “But which one should we chose?”

A good question indeed – there are rows of cats of various shapes, sizes, furs and breeds to choose from.

“Can I help you with anything?” We looked behind us to see a mare in a forest green uniform come up to us.

“Yes actually,” I said adjusting my monical. “Do you know these cats?”

“I sure do.”

“Then perhaps you can assist me in choosing one.”

“Oh, looking for a kitty to adopt?”

“Yes, ma’am. But I’m rather at a loss at which one to get.”

“Okay then, are you looking for a kitten or a fully mature one?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Of course,” she went up to a cage that had about five tiny orange felines. “Kittens like these little guys are the kind you can train with. They take a good deal of work to do so.” She then went up to a larger cat with long white fur. “Those that are mature, however, at least you would know what you’re getting yourself into given their past health records, and their personality as well. Take Snowy here, he was sick when he was a kitten but has gotten better. An indoor cat, this little guy likes to just lie around in especially warm places. Although I’d admit, he’s kinda… spoiled.”

“Ah, I see.” I nodded, “Question for you, are there any cats here that can be loyal to their owners?”

_*_

The door to my study opened to which I looked up to find Gustav stepping through, “Sir, Mr. Brush has just returned. Shall I send him in?”

“Please do,” I smiled as he places the papers away.

“Right away sir, although I must warn you though, he seems rather upset when he came in.”

“Is he alright?”

“He’s not crying if that’s what you’re asking. No, he looked very furious a while ago. Are you sure you want to see him now?”

I nodded, “Yes. I want to know what’s wrong.”

My butler nodded while I checked my watch, it was eight eleven. That’s rather odd because he usually returns by seven thirty. I poured myself some brandy, wondering what has gotten him so upset.

Then Acrylic came in wearing a scowl on his face. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

He marched over to the desk, “Well, I’ve found one client that I’m never going to talk to again.”

“What?”

“First of all,” he sat down across from me. “Do you know if the kitchen has anything edible? Like soup or anything?”

“You mean you haven’t eaten?”

A mock laugh escaped his mouth, “Are you kidding? After what was a ‘special treat’ from her, I would gladly eat out from a dumpster then spend another minute of that narrow-minded, thin-viewed, uncompromising, manipulative…” he let a shout before slamming his hooves on the desk with his head the following suit. After a pause, he let out a frustrated moan, “Fancy, I’m sorry but… that client was just as big of a bigot as my parents!”

“Okay, calm down,” I used my magic to ring for the servants, “I’ll make sure you get something to eat.” A moment later, Gustav reappeared, “Could you send word to the kitchen that Mr. Brush is in need of dinner. Send up some of that soup if there’s any left.”

He nodded before leaving us alone again. I got up to go around the desk, “So who was the client, if I may ask.”

“Some uptight critic,” Acrylic looked up as I patted his back. “I think her name was Zesty… something.”

“You mean Zesty Gourmand?” he nodded. “Oh you poor miserable soul,” I sighed, “What happened?”

After taking in some very deep breaths, the Artist explained, “Okay, aside from… her, today was just like any other mundane day. The first two clients were alright since all I had to do is paint their houses. But then…” he sighed, “there was Zesty. All she wanted was her portrait done. Nothing to it really, she sat down while she played some music as I painted. I don’t think she said much as I worked, and once I was done, she liked it. She said that she was so impressed that she was willing to take me out to her favorite restaurant to show her gratitude while the paint dries.”

“Oh this ought to be good,” I said as I gulped down some of the bourbons.

“You know what, since she told me that she was a food critic, I thought, ‘Why not? She was willing to pay and I get a free meal.’ So we went down to this place called Restaurant Row to go into one of these places. For the life of me, I can’t remember the building was called, but let’s not get into that. So we sat down and since I’ve never been to this place before, I let her order. Well, when the food arrived, she and I got into a shouting match, all because I asked her one question.”

“And that being?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Where’s the rest of it?” I just busted out laughing, but he continued, “No, really! That was the question. We were given plates were there were like four or five tiny pieces. She told me that this was only the first course so I should go ahead and try it. And I don’t know what I put in my mouth, but I can tell you this Fancy. It looks like food, but it has no other properties of being food. There was no smell, no taste, and the texture? It was practically gone before I could even chew! I thought: ‘Huh, that was weird. Maybe the next course will be better.’ It wasn’t. I swear that whatever they served, it was exactly the same! I don’t know how that critic could even stand it!

“But I’m getting off track, aren’t I?” There was a knock on the door; it was Acrylic’s dinner being brought in. The hoofcolt placed the bowl was set down on the desk along with a glass of water and a spoon. “Thank you,” he said before the servant left us along again. After taking a spoonful, he hummed happily, “Flavor.”

“So what you were saying about Zesty?”

“Oh, right,” he followed another spoonful of the stalk. “As I was saying, eventually I ended up scooping up everything on the plate and putting it all in my mouth at once. This got her frowning, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she asked me. I asked her how many courses do we have because I would imagine that it would probably take at least fifty to make me full. Well, as you can imagine, our argument only heated up from there.”

“What happened?”

He eats some of the soup before answering. “She told me that since she knew that I immigrated here that she said, and this is her own words, ‘Of course, what was I thinking? You’re ignorant to know about high society cuisine.’ Oh, that really ticked me off! I told her that I know well enough that this food (if you can call it that!) wasn’t by any means a cultural experience if it gave nothing for me to remember by. Like a good painting, good food should at least leave me with an impression of something.”

I nodded, “I whole heartily agree.”

“Then she said something on the lines of, ‘Well, you don’t know how to appreciate such settle taste, the elegance, and hint of true flavor.’ Well, I asked her, how could I appreciate something when it doesn’t even try to be good? This food never once, not ONCE had tried to give me a reason to actually like it. At least with this soup that I’m eating, I could tell that Ms. Copper Pot had tried to make something good.”

Smirking, I replied, “You’re preaching to the choir.”

“But that was nothing compared to what she said next that made me storm out. Do you even want to guess what she said?” I shook my head, “She told me, and I quote: ‘Say’s the pony that couldn’t afford to go to college.’”

Now that was appalling, “She really said that?”

He nodded, “At that point, I was at loss for words. To tell you the truth Fancy, I would have loved to call her a bi- no! That insult is more of a compliment to describe her. I might have told her to go buck herself, but I don’t want to wish something like sex upon her. I was so angry Fancy, I wished that I want to invent new insults, just to describe to her how much I hated her. Like… ‘I hate you so much, that I hope every bit of food you take will taste like fresh charcoal.’ Or ‘I hate you so much, that if there was a choice between your dish and shot of poison, I would go for the poison because at least I would actually taste something!’ No! How about, ‘Then what’s the difference between having something in your mouth that you can’t taste, can’t chew, or can’t swallow and eating nothing at all?’”

“Wait, wait!” my horn flared to reach for a pen and paper. “I got to write this down. This is just too good to pass.” I quickly jot down from the humorous insults I heard before saying, “Continue…”

I saw his anger melt away as he came up with: “How about…. ‘I would rather eat my own paintings than have this dinner again.’ Or, ‘I hate you so much that your ugly ego would go nicely as a modern art masterpiece!’”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I wrote that down. “This is great,” I chortled. “Got anything else?”

He gave a sly grin, “It does really make you wonder what her mother fed her, mites?” Acrylic chuckled. Shaking his head, he picked up another spoonful of soup. “But in all seriousness Fancy, I just couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her. I thought my parents were narrow-minded, but nope! Here was this mare, probably grown up in a much better circumstance than what I or my family had grown up in, and her idea of the good life is to eat in a place that gives you nothing to remember by. Come to think of it, what was it that I’ve eaten again?”

“Acrylic, I understand this perfectly,” I told him. “Between you and me, I disagree with Zesty as well when it comes to the subject of food. Sure, I may be the head of the elite, but even I dread that I would be invited to these sorts of places. Plus, I’ll even tell you a little secret: for those who have spent their lives in Canterlot, we already know where to go to enjoy our meals at. In fact, the only rich ponies that I know that attempted to eat at Restaurant Row, are those who never been there, to begin with.”

“I can see why,” Mr. Brush commented.

“But I am rather sorry that you had her as your client, if I would have known she would invite you to dinner, I would have spared you from having such a dreadful experience.”

“As I’ve said, I am never going to paint for her after tonight.”

“I won’t blame you for it either. Of course, now I’m going to have to face her as well soon.”

“Would you please do me a favor,” he asked.

“Of course.”

“When she comes in and negotiates about the price of her portrait, tell her that the Artist wants it destroyed. Have it drenched in alcohol and lit on fire. There will be no payment.”

“That seems rather harsh don’t you think?”

“She insulted me, Fancy. I don’t want my art to be hung on the wall of the pony that called me stupid.”

I sighed, “Let me see what I can come up with. But since this is clearly upsetting you, can we discuss something else other than Ms. Gourmand?”

He snorted, “Yeah, sure. How was your day?”

“Quite a long day, to be honest, I’m starting to prepare plans for going to Neighpon in two weeks. I wrote to Father to ask him a few details about the country.”

“Did you tell him about us?”

I nodded, “Since its official, I felt that it would be best that he ought to know about it. I am rather curious as to what he’ll say, but it’s going to be a couple of days to hear a reply from him. But I’m getting off track.

“I had a few art deals here and there, as well as setting up a new exhibition for an upcoming sculptor. But aside from that and some paperwork, it was really a tedious day. Well, except for a few things.”

“That being?’

Smirking, I replied, “Hearing your rant about a pony that I don’t like was oddly satisfying. That and I’ve gotten you a present.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What present?”

I rang for the bell once more, Gustav opened the door when I said, “Would you go get Mr. Brush’s present?”

“Yes sir,” a couple minutes later, he returned with the covered cage. Acrylic looked at me in confusion, asked me what was it. “Where do you want me to place it?”

“By the desk Gustav,” I pointed as he sat it down. “I’ll be the one to uncover the cloth.” He did so as I got up towards the cage, “Acrylic, this is for you.” With my magic, I uncovered the cage that held the cat. The smoky white coat spotted creature looked up at my coltfriend with her jade green eyes.

At the sight of the feline, Mr. Brush immediately got up and bowed to it. “Who’s this?”

“I’m afraid that she hasn’t gotten a name yet. This here is a Coltyptian Mau, from what I know, she’s nearly a year old which is our equivalent of a very young teenager. And she’s yours.”

His eyes went wide as he looked between me and the cat, “Could you let her out?”

I did, as soon as the latch was unlocked, the furry thing jumped right out of her cage and into the study. The cat did a full circle, looking around at her new surroundings. She seemed to be very curious as she went up to me, then Gustav and finally went towards Acrylic. The feline paused as he lifted a hoof over her, “May I?” he asked.

When she didn’t move, Acrylic proceeded on to stroking its head. Eventually sitting down on its hindquarters as he continued to pet her, “At least she’s friendly.” I commented.

“You said that she has no name?” Mr. Brush inquired.

“From what I’ve learned from the Pet Store, she came to the store quite ill where the owner abandoned her. There’re health records, but they didn’t mention where she came from or who the previous owner was.”

“Sir,” my butler spoke up. “Are you sure about this is a good idea to have a pet inside the house? A cat no less.”

“Hey!” Acrylic interjected, “The Felines are sacred, and we’re blessed to have one in this very room. To have her here is protecting us from whatever evils that come here.” He then scratched behind her ears in which she let out a purr. “Although, I admit that this is rather weird since we never keep them as pets. However, since someone has abandoned her, then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take care of her.”

“Which brings up my point,” Gustav said before turning to me, “Do you know how to care for this cat, sir?”

“From what I’ve been told, we’re given a weekly trial to see if we can keep her. But from what I’ve learned, it ought to be easy. Since she is a Coltyptian Mau, there’s not much grooming to do other ten to weekly brush her fur and teeth every week. Not to mention that her claws are trimmed for obvious reasons. And her litter box would need to be clean regularly too. Let’s see… oh, since she is an indoor cat, she will grow close to everyone in the house that she will grow loyal with. At the same time, do keep in mind that she is playful and very fast.”

“What do you mean?” Acrylic asked as the cat suddenly hopped on his back.

“We have one of the fastest domestic cat breeds there are out there. So keep that in mind.”

“So like a cheetah,” he inquired as he looked at the cat. “I mean, she does have the spots of one so I suppose that would make some sense.”

“Would you like to keep her Acrylic?”

I saw a smile on the stallion’s muzzle, “Fancy, this is very thoughtful of you. I would be honored to look after something as beautiful as her…” he trailed off in deep thought. “Coltyptian? What about… Cleocatra?”

“As in the last Pharaoh of Coltypt?” Gustav asked.

I smiled, “It would only make sense. I mean, look at the eyes. They seem as if they’re painted, don’t they?”

Acrylic looked at the cat on his back, “Would you like to call you that, Cleocatra?”

She only rested her head on him, purring.

Chapter 19: The Auction

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 20: Somewhere Beyond the Sea

Author's Note

I admit, I did have to rewrite this chapter, so I'm not exactly sure if this is good or not.

Chapter 20: Somewhere Beyond the Sea

If there was one thing I can name about the sea that I absolutely love about, it would be their sunsets. On the deck of the ocean liner, the four of us: Acrylic, Fleur, Cleo and I are sailing to Neighpon. My bodyguard has been watching us from a lounge chair. My coltfriend is painting away at the last rays of that bright sunset to the West while above us the white steam from the smokestacks leaves a trail.

I’m stroking Celo’s silky fur, watching Acrylic paint a new masterpiece that showed our pet sitting at the railings, her back is turned to look onwards to the pumpkin sunset. Even though I was against it, both he and Fleur convinced me to take her with us in the end. “How are you this evening?” I asked him.

His brush reached down to touch a dab of blush pink, “At the moment, I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Nothing bad I hope?”

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t say that it’s just… well… I’m still nervous.”

“Let me guess, the application?”

“That’s one part,” he said as he quickly brushed the canvas. “Do you really think they’ll accept me? I haven’t set hoof into a high school, so how do you know if they’ll say yes to me?”

“Acrylic dear,” I patted his shoulder, “You’re much more intelligent than you give yourself credit for. Why, I believe by the time we go home, that you’ll be welcomed into Canterlot University with open hooves.”

“You really believe so?”

“Well… no. I know that you will be accepted in. Just you wait.”

He then stopped painting, “And supposed I don’t get in? What would I do with all that money from the auction?”

“Oh now, Acrylic. We’re on holiday; we shouldn’t be worrying about things like that. Let’s just live in the moment.”

“By living in the moment, of course, you mean coming up with ways to flirt with me whenever you get the chance?”

I smirked, “Well, that. And taking advantage of what this ship has to offer.”

“Like what happened at the swimming pool earlier,” we turned to find Fleur walking up to us.

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Oh come de Les, I can’t blame him for eyeing me while I was getting out of the pool.”

“Not to mention you’re…” Acrylic tailed off, but I could tell by the deepening reddish tint that he was too embarrassed to finish. “You know.”

I chuckled, “Oh come on, and I don’t blame you for it. If anything, I’m still rather flattered.”

“We’re just lucky that there weren’t any foals around,” Fleur giggled, she too gave a blush.

“C-Can we change the subject?” He asked in an adorable embarrassed voice of his.

“Of course,” I said, “What else is on your mind?”

As soon as he resumed painting, he replied, “Do you remember how I seemed a little distant at the auction?” I nodded, “Well, I’ve been thinking about my parents lately – No, scratch that, I’ve been thinking about them a lot now.”

“What exactly in particular?” Fleur inquired.

He sighed as he thought for a moment, “It’s a little hard to explain but, I’m just feeling rather bad what I said to them the last time I’ve seen them. Not only that, but I was at one point their main reason why they were able to have enough to afford to go someplace as far away as Equestria. Now that I have more than enough while knowing that they’re almost dirt poor, is disowning them the right thing to do, even fully knowing that they would have done so with me if they found out that I’m gay?”

I pondered this question carefully, “If you’re asking if you should try to make amends with your parents when you were their main source of financial support, I say that if you feel up to it, go ahead and try.”

“But how? You heard what they’ve said to your face Fancy. They’re nowhere near as enlightened as you or Fleur. They only see anypony like us as perverts. So how can I make amends with them when I know full well that they’ll only end up being dead set against me if they knew the truth?”

“Acrylic,” Fleur said, “Put down your brush for a moment and listen to what I have to say.” He did so, giving the opportunity for Cleo to jump into his hooves. “Look, unless I’m misinterpreting this wrong, are you asking if you’re wondering if you should come out to your parents?”

He looked down at the feline, “Maybe.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “Although I’m not exactly attracted to mares myself, and from what I’ve learned from Fancy, this is a huge decision for you to make. I can only imagine how hard it was to hide your true self from your family in Lightning Falls. Trust me when I say that Fancy had the exact same problem with his father. Did he ever tell you that?”

My coltfriend shrugged; “Only a little, but not much.”

“Until he was twenty-four, his father didn’t know that he was sometimes dating stallions and never told him about it. But-”

I stopped her with a hoof, “I think I can tell it from here.” Then I turned to Acrylic, “The truth is I too didn’t have the guts in telling either mother or father about my sexuality. It was only until by complete accident that they found out. One night, Hoity and I were drinking heavily that we didn’t notice that on the way to my home one of the paparazzi had followed us, taking pictures of us…” I cleared my throat before continuing. “But that’s not important. What was is that the father saw the picture and… he just exploded.”

Acrylic’s ears folded back, “Please don’t tell me that… hurt you?”

“What? Oh no, he didn’t… but he might as well have. As soon as he saw it, he marched over right up to the front steps of the house and confronted me about it. To make a long story short, he disowned me, cut off my allowance completely, leaving me alone to figure out what to do. Not to say that I did pull a few strings and worked myself to the stallion you see today. But for a while… I and father didn’t speak to one another for years.”

“But what changed his mind? After all, I did see him come visit you that one time.”

“You can thank mother for that,” I smiled with nostalgia. “Before she passed away, she was able to convince father in giving me another chance to see past his prejudice to see what I really was – his son. But I do say that while it was uncomfortable, it did lift a heavy burden off of me.”

He looked at me confused, “Huh?”

“I mean that once the truth was out, and yes, while it did take years to get around it, I was finally stopped pretending to be this pony he thought I was. And instead saw me what I really was.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “Fancy, I’ve had seen all the stereotypes of being gay as this lisping, effeminate, fashion obsessed pony that cares for nothing but sex. That was something I was taught back in Lightning Falls, that gay ponies were just weaker stallions. But the truth is, while I’m not exactly those things; I do have feelings towards you. I just wish I could tell my parents that I don’t want to act, I want to be me.”

“Look on the bright side,” Fleur said, “Even if your parents rejected you back, you still have a home in Canterlot, and the most handsome bachelor there is.”

He eventually put Cleo down, “I suppose that I have plenty of time before deciding that. But you’re right Fancy, we should be at least enjoying ourselves. We are on vacation after all.”

_*_

It was to the ship’s whistle that I woke up enough for me to take a quick peek. The cabin was still dark with the heavy curtains still cover up the port-side windows. Although from the thin rays of the sun, my internal clock said that it was still too early to be awake.

There’s a knock on my cabin door, “Sir, are you awake?”

Groaning, I use my magic to unlock the door, “Come in.” I heard the door open, not too long after I felt Cleo hopping on the bed and climbing over me. “Good morning Cleo. Good morning Acrylic.”

“I expect you want some coffee, Fancy?”

“You may make it, just as long as you keep the blinds closed and the lights off. I don’t think my eyes are prepared to be open to direct sunlight just yet.”

He chuckled, “Right away,” I heard him trotting towards the mini kitchen while I can feel the cat’s paws on my face.

I gently picked up the feline back onto the floor, “I’m not dead Cleo, go bother Acrylic for a while until my brain functions again.”

“Are you sure this isn’t the first time you’ve traveled outside of Equestria?” my coltfriend asked as he turned on the sink.

“No. I’m just not used to the shift in time zones is all. Although I’m amazed that you don’t sound like a zompony by now, after all, it has to be… what? Around five in the morning?”

“Over here, it’s seven. And no, I’m not tired at all.” I can hear him placing the ground coffee into the machine. “Maybe I’m just so excited to go to an exotic place that I’m not ready to sleep at all.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Cleo woke me up a while ago, so I went up on deck and found out that we’re not too far from Neighpon now. Fancy, you should really have seen the sunrise.”

“Forgive me dear chap, but I’m afraid that I’m a little too lazy to get up at this hour.”

He laughed, “I suppose. Anyway, I’ll have your coffee ready soon.”

Thankfully, he remained quiet as my cup was brewing, and within minutes; the rich smell of coffee forced me to open my eyes to the dim light of the room. Across from the bed, I saw my coltfriend stroking Cleo while the machine dripped away. Pushing the thick blanket off of me, I slumped out onto the floor and went straight towards the liquid of life.

When it was done, Acrylic poured the inky black fluid into a mug before putting in the right amount of cream and sugar into hoof it over to me, “Thank you.” I said before taking my first gulp.

“So when we get to… What was it called again?”

I coughed, “I think it’s called Ichiuma. I think father said it loosely translates as ‘Horse Capital.’”

“But I thought Trotkyo was the capital.”

“Was,” I corrected before downing another fiery gulp. “That changed a long time ago. But you were saying.”

“When we get to Ichiuma, did you say that we’re meeting somepony there?”

“We are indeed. Father told me that he’ll be sending us someone that can act as translator and guide for us when we sail in. Haiku, I believe it was. He’s the same one that had accompanied him while he was here recovering.”

“I see. So what are we going to do while there?”

“From what Father wrote to me, Ichiuma is the perfect introduction to Neighpon since it is the beating cultural heart of the whole country.” I took another slow sip from my mug. “Acrylic, I think you can open the curtains now. But, slowly please.”

He nodded as he went to the windows and carefully let some light in. The cabin was soon flooded in dark pink, but light orange of the rising sun. With my eyes adjusting, I walked over to the window and saw what he was looking at.

“There it is,” Acrylic said, “We’re here.”

“Indeed. This would be an interesting experience. I can only imagine all the masterpieces that are going to come out from this holiday.”

“I think we’ll be there in a couple of hours.” He looked over to me, “Do you want to get dressed now or later?”

Shrugging, I answered, “Perhaps a little later. Once I’m finished with this cup… or five.”

He laughed that infections choral. “I’m in no rush. Is there anything else you need of me?”

“Just my good morning kiss,” I smirked. “Or would you want to wake up Fleur?”

Humming in thought for a moment, my coltfriend kissed me. “Not yet, I think we can let her sleep a little.”

“I concur. Even at this hour, I do admit that this is rather exciting for all of us. A new place, new culture, new ponies all around, and not to mention new food to try – I say that I’m very curious what this little adventure will take us.”

Chapter 21: In the Land of the Rising Sun

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Chapter 22: The First Step towards Enlightenment

By now, it’s been a week since we first arrived in Neighpon. At this point, at least I don’t feel as tired compared to that morning when we’ve sailed in now that I’m getting used to the time change.

So far, Mr. Pose’s daughter had interviewed my coltfriend and me, in which she decided that she wanted to draw up a manga based on us – which I found it rather flattering if I do say so myself. Of course, Ink Stroke did say that she has to make some changes here and there just so that it didn’t resemble us too much. As for Acrylic, he made a deal with her that he’ll give her full permission to use our story for her graphic novel, only on the condition that he can paint the cover for her. In which, she eagerly agreed.

After that day, the three of us, plus Cleo, have been lead around the city of Ichiuma by Haiku. He would explain to us the cultural or historical importance of this or that place while at the same time would give us space to take in the serenity of it all. For Acrylic, it gave him the opportunity to paint new cityscapes in his style, giving the places we’ve been an intense, colorful look to it. Though, at the same time, he’s been having an increasing number of panic attacks that I had to pull him off to the side so that he may calm down.

Not to say that it didn’t take too long for Mr. Pose to catch onto this pattern. So one night after we’ve gotten back from a tour and Acrylic bust to tears out of nowhere, Haiku asked me to remain in the lobby while the others went to their rooms.

“Are you sure that your… friend is alright?” he asked me.

“Just give him some space,” I said, sitting by the stylized fire pit. “You have to excuse Acrylic, he suffers from depression and he sometimes has panic attacks.”

“Mr. Brush has depression,” he raised an eyebrow. “But he seemed rather fine to me when we began our tour today.”

“Depression isn’t just noticeable sadness, Mr. Pose,” I said. “From personal experience, it can be intense anxiety, or have a persistent feeling of hopelessness, even when everything's going right. He may seem fine when you look at him, but you’re never really sure what’s going inside his mind until it manifests itself.”

“So what are you doing to help him exactly?”

“For one, trying to be there for him when he needs me,” I leaned back in my seat. “Something I’ve learned the hard way that almost cost him his life. He needs somepony to be heard and to be there to try to give the best comforting advice you can. Although…” I trailed off, looking at the flames.

“You’re worried if it might not be enough,” Haiku asked and I nodded. My guide too leaned back and seemed to meditate for a moment at the problem he just learned. Finally, after about several minutes of silence between us, he spoke. “If I make a suggestion, sir, I think there is a place here in Ichiuma that might hold the key in stabilizing Mr. Brush’s mental health.”

I raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”

“There’s a monastery just outside of the city and in the mountains. Whenever anyone is dealing with an inner struggle that they aren’t exactly sure what to do, they turn to the monks over there. Who studies in meditation, and continually study the surroundings of their simplistic lives in order to find enlightenment. These ponies and gryphons alike live side by side to heal the weary minds who seek their help. No matter what sort of problem anyone faces, they could always turn to them because their practices require being completely open-minded to all living things that come to the monastery. Perhaps if you were by Mr. Brush’s side for a whole day with these monks, maybe you two might see the answers that you’re striving for.”

I thought for a moment, this was certainly an interesting idea. Couple’s therapy, ancient Neighponies style in which we would be beside robe monks. “What about Fleur? Could she come along with us?”

“Again, open to anyone who seeks their help. Why you can bring your cat along if you want to.”

“Well that’s fine and good, but why a whole day?”

“You said so yourself that Mr. Brush’s depression had nearly cost his life. Here in Neighpon, it’s considered something that shouldn’t be taken lightly, regardless of how long ago it was. And given that two are in a relationship, it would only make sense to be there for him while the monks help him out.”

Haiku did have a point. So with that, I agreed to take us to the monastery the next day.

_*_

Although we weren’t that far away from the city, we might as well be in a completely different world. Anything that resembled the modern world had ceased as soon as they stepped through the tall red gate and down the path into the woods. On Acrylic’s back, Cleo had her ears perked up as we walked further up the mountainside, probably just as curious, if not a little more cautious, of where we were going.

“I’m going to introduce you to the Sensei that had taught me to speak Equestrian, and the one whom you’re going to be dealing with for today,” our guide said. “His name is Sensei Kuraudofezā or Cloud Feather in Equestrian.”

“What exactly is he going to be teaching us?” Acrylic questioned, “You’ve never really said over what.”

“To put it short Mr. Brush,” he looked over his shoulder, “Enlightenment.”

A couple minutes later, we reached our destination. With white walls and gray roofs, the doors to the monastery were wide open. We saw the monks as we approached, all of them wore simple gray robes, manes and tails were either shaved or cut short for the ponies while the feathers were trimmed back for the gryphons.

Upon entering, the monks and even the visitors in white bowed their necks at us as we did the same for them. We walked through a tranquil garden of rocks, sand, bushes, and trees that lay systematically around. We walked through a few buildings in the complex where some of the monks looked back at us. Finally, Haiku lead us to a building in which we were given slippers to walk on its floors before going inside. Upon entering, we were greeted by an old looking gryphon who, like the others, had his feathers trimmed and had his eyes closed while holding his claws together.

Mr. Pose went up to him and bowed deeply, “おはよう先生クラウドフェザー.”

The gryphon opened his eyes and replied in a deep voice, “おはようございます私の学生. 私はあなたを助けることができる方法?”

Our guide gestured for us to bow as well, “これらの学生は、自分の知恵を必要としています。これらの外国人は、あなたが提供悟りを探しています.”

The teacher looked upon us, “Equestrian?”

“Yes sir,” I responded. We’re hoping that we might learn something from you as we wish to spend the day here.”

Our guide and our new teacher talked a little bit before we were ushered out, “He said that before he starts teaching you, the three of you must be properly dressed. I’ll take you over to where to change into your robes in which you must leave everything behind,” he turned to me, “Including your monical Mr. Pants.”

“But I’m nearly half blind without this,” I protested.

“I’m sorry, but rules are rules. As visitors, you must put all your earthly possessions aside before any of these monks can teach you. It’s considered traditional after all.”

As inconvenient as it was, I gave in, for Acrylic’s sake. We were escorted over to a building in which we undress, set our things aside and put on the pure white robes for the visitors before we returned to Cloud Feather once again. Our guide told us that he’ll return later in the day before dinner time before he left.

Cleo stuck closely by us the whole time, weary of everypony we came across, so when our teacher tried to pet her, it came to no surprise when he asked as she quickly darted away from him, “Shy?”

The cat leaped onto Fleur’s shoulders, “She is actually, my name if Fleur de Lis by the way.”

“Acrylic Brush,” my coltfriend introduced himself before waving a hoof to me, “And this is Fancy Pants.

The old gryphon nodded, “So tell me, why did you come here today? Not that I don’t appreciate visits from complete strangers, but Mr. Pose told me you came here for enlightenment.”

Sighing I told the truth, “To be honest with you, I was advised to come here on his behalf,” I gestured over to my coltfriend. “For you see, Acrylic has been suffering from depression for a while and I wanted to find a way to help him.”

“So that’s why we’re here?” The Impressionist looked at me, “So that we can be dragged in into a Neighponies style of group therapy? Without asking me?”

Our teacher raises a claw, “Mr. Brush, the fact that all of you are here must be out of good intentions at heart. This monastery has been giving comfort to everyone since its founding.”

“Excuse me,” my bodyguard asks, “But what exactly do you do here?”

“Ah, good question,” he says. “Like my fellow brothers and sisters, we seek enlightenment daily and insists others who they have inner turmoil that seeks peace of mind. To do this, we teach you meditation and reflection so that others may find enlightenment themselves. The way we do that is to search our inner thoughts and emotions, to see what is blocking them and to show how to overcome such obstacles to find inner peace.”

Acrylic raised an eyebrow, “And you’re willing to teach us in less than a day?”

“There are seven steps to enlightenment,” Feather told us. “Yet, I cannot show you how if none of you are willing to do so.”

My coltfriend looked at us for a moment, “Well… alright, but only if Fancy and Fleur come along too.”

We agreed to it as well.

Giving a satisfied smile, the gryphon stood up, “Very well. But to begin your journey, we must start at the bottom of the mountain.”

_*_

We hiked downhill away from the monastery, which wasn’t quite easy that I have one good eye to do it with. In fact, every so often Acrylic or Fleur would have to make sure that I didn’t trip or bump into anything since my bad eye could only see nothing but a blur of shapes and colors. Eventually, we’ve reached the bottom of the trail where it was still away from civilization.

Our teacher instructed us to sit upon one of the boulders of a very rocky field. After brief instructions on how to sit and breathe from Cloud Feather, Cleo jumped onto my rock and rested on my lap. Once we’ve learned the very basics of meditation, our teacher chose to sit on a smaller rock just in front of us.

“As I’ve said, there are seven steps towards enlightenment,” he said. “We shall begin with the first step, in which we call Earth. This deals with survival, and it is blocked by fear. I want you all to take this moment to ponder this question: What do you fear the most?”

Closing my eyes, I let my back straighten up, letting my forehooves go limp by my sides, and breathed in the quiet. I let my mind unlock memories of childhood to now of times in which I’ve been scared, in which there was plenty. There was the fear of the dark; the fear of something waiting in my closet; the fear that my mother would end up in a mental hospital; the fear that I would be disregarded by my parents because of my sexual orientation; the fear of not succeeding in a business that I was new to.

But as an adult, I don’t fear those anymore. So, what do I fear now? Then it came to me because of how obvious it was.

“Well?” our teacher said, “Did you find it?”

Opening my eyes, I nodded, “Do you want us to tell you?”

“It would help me in guiding you,” he said. “I ask again – what do you fear the most?”

My ears folded back, “I’m afraid that I would end up being truly alone.”

This got an immediate reaction from Acrylic, looking up at me in surprise.

“And you sir?” the old gryphon asked.

“I…” he swallowed, “No, it’s stupid.”

“Fear is never a foolish thing,” Feather told him. “No matter what form it takes, fear is still that, fear.”

“Well,” he wiggled uncomfortably in his seat. “The truth is I’m afraid that after I die, I’d be forgotten, no matter what I do.”

Then our teacher turned to Fleur, “And you?”

I confess, for a moment I was rather curious. Of all the time that I’ve gotten to know my bodyguard, I never saw her being afraid of anything since that day she saved me in that alley. What on this plant can she be afraid of?

There was a sigh, “That how much I try to protect, it will never be enough.”

I leaned over, “Fleur, what do you mean?”

Her ears folded back, “As good as I am, what if all that training, all that experience won’t be enough to protect and serve everypony around? That in the end, I end up failing and somepony is going to get hurt because of it.”

“Ms. Lis,” our teacher said, “Realize the fact that you can’t be everywhere to protect those you know and love. If you give all in assisting even just one, those who can save but one life has already saved the world entire - for even we can’t rescue everyone, but we can, as you put it, protect and serve those who need to be protected.”

Then he turned Acrylic, “Believe it or not, I often hear that fear from others a lot. I’ve heard somewhere that there are two ways of killing someone. The first is easy because the physical body is really so fragile that if one wrong move,” he cuts the air with a claw, “it’s all over. However, the second death, in which everyone forgets about you afterward, is actually much more difficult to do.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because we believe that everything, even inanimate objects, contains the lives of everyone, and everything it touches. A letter contains a soul, a drawing has one too, even the clothing that we wear has a soul that lives and breathes. Even memory too has a life. As long as somepony knows you or has something that had belonged to you, the memory of you will refuse to die. For you can’t be entirely be forgotten if you left something behind because we Neighponies believe that whenever one creates something, they are putting a tiny piece of their soul into it, like a seed in which with time and care will grow. But like all seeds, you need to make sure that they’re planted in the right place.”

Finally, he turned to me, “I do have a question for you, what exactly do you mean by being alone?”

I glanced over at Acrylic before answering, “I’m getting old sir. With all the wealth and credibility I’ve gained, I’m afraid that for having such a success have cost me my chances of being truly happy with my special somepony. Although I’ve found someone that has plenty of promise, I too am worried if in the end, I’ll be alone once more.”

The old gryphon hummed in thought, “While it is natural to have doubts about finding a loving partner in which you may call your better half, one should not let fear be a wall that separates you from the ones that do care for you. The only one that can bring down such a wall is only yourself, once you do this, you’ll find that outside of that said wall, is a world filled with those that will do the impossible to be by your side."

He closes his eyes again, “Concentrate on your fears students, take it into your mind, and let it flow away to realize you have a way to overstep that obstacle.”

The three of us close our eyes, coming to terms with what he said, we took in a deep breath, and that fear go.

Our teacher smiled, “Congratulations, you’ve taken your first step towards Enlightenment.”

Chapter 23: Of Water, Fire and Air

Around our rocks, we sat in the middle of a small pond. Behind me is a small waterfall that cascades down to our place of meditation. Between Fleur and Acrylic, Cleo was watching the koi fish intensely that swam underneath us. Our teacher, facing us, took in a deep breath.

“Now we’ve come to the next step in Enlightenment, simply called Water. It deals with pleasure, which is blocked by guilt. Take this moment to ponder – What do you blame yourself for?”

I glanced over at my coltfriend, taking in that mental image before looking into sifting reflection. My mind wonders back to the things that I know I’m guilty of, especially against him. Such as the time when I first found his painting on that rainy night that I didn’t stop to investigate further, I might have prevented him from becoming homeless; or times that I didn’t pay too close attention to his mental and emotional states that attempted suicide would never have happened. No, those aren’t true at all. I think I did know that something was wrong and I did nothing until it became serious. I’ve become so focused on making his dream come true that I didn’t see what was happening in reality.

I could feel my ears folded backward, in which our teacher noticed, “Have you found something Mr. Pants?”

Turning to Acrylic, I said, “There is. I’m guilty of knowing that something was wrong with you Acrylic from the start, but I did nothing to help.”

“Fancy?” he asked before our teacher asked him about his guilt. “Oh… Well,” he glanced at me before answering. “I feel guilty for being too self-conscious about who I want others to proceed me to be.”

Cloud Feather tapped his beak, humming, “And you ma’am?”

Fleur, still in that meditated position, looked up at us. “I blame myself for letting my sense of duty getting in the way of making real friends when I was younger.”

“I see,” our teacher hummed in thought. He meditated on the rock while the water babbled and swooshed underneath. “Your guilt of being too self-conscious fascinates me. Would you expand a little on what you mean?”

“Well,” the scarlet artist said. “Even when I have grown slowly to accept myself, there’s still something in the back of my mind that’s telling me what to do. ‘Don’t walk like that. Don’t let others hear you speak like that. Don’t go overboard with how you dress. Don’t look at them like that when you’re in public. Keep your distance. Keep your tongue in check. Don’t let anyone know that you’re different.’”

Just wonderful, now I have another reason to be feeling guilty over.

“Interesting…” the old gryphon stroked his beak. “Can I ask you a question, Mr. Brush?” he nodded. “Do you always feel this restricted, and if not, how come?”

“Not until recently,” I saw him smile. “W-When I found my… special somepony, who knows what it’s like to be me, it’s as if I can just drop the mask around hi- uh I-I mean, them, and can just be myself.”

“Yet you’re self-aware, even now,” our teacher noted. “Mr. Brush. In Neighponies thinking, it is considered that the most hidden that is found is the most beautiful thing of all. So I can assume that this special somepony has gone through some tough work just to peek inside, am I wrong?”

He shook his head, “Right on the head sir.”

“And is this special somepony someone who is not afraid of displaying who they are and not worry what others think about them?”

A quick glance later, he answered, “Much more, to a degree.”

He nodded, “As long as you have that kind of pony beside you, both of you will learn to find a balance between having self-control and letting yourself free.”

Then it was Fleur’s turn, “Here in Neighpon, it’s not uncommon when I encounter those who let their jobs get so entangled in their lives that their social life seems to dry out around them. Although, you said when you were younger, so I assume that you still feel guilty about this?”

My bodyguard nodded, “As a former Royal Guard in Equestria, I had put so many hours in training that I’ve neglected many things such as birthdays, holidays, several family gatherings, all in the name of protecting and serve. For a time, I’ve become an isolationist for a while, but as I grew older, I came to realize all the time, all the memories I could have made but missed.”

“But did you find a balance between work and pleasure?”

“I won’t be lying that I’m still trying to find that balance,” she admitted. “It’s only the past that I feel guilty over.”

“Ah,” our teacher leans over to the side, dipping his claw into the smooth currents of the cool water. “Time is such an unpredictable thing. Like the water in these ponds, we never know when the next opportunity to experience this or that in life will either flow in circles or flow out of the pond. While we have no control over what comes down the current, we can decide what we can do with whatever comes.”

Finally, he turned to me, “Mr. Pants, it is rather difficult to find the moment when to step in and help. At times, one's problems flow away all by themselves, but at others, we don’t know how much they will linger. Don’t blame yourself for not assisting in Mr. Brush’s problems, for telling when to step in and when not to can take a lifetime and is a never-ending learning process. The best anyone can do in your horseshoes is to try to take note when it happens again, and to seek forgiveness from the one that was neglected.”

“You’re right,” I turned to my coltfriend, “Acrylic, for my foolishness and insensitivity, forgive me.”

“But I already have,” he smiled.

Our teacher nodded, “Take another moment to confront your guilt once more, see the way to navigate it, and let it go.”

We all did, breathing in, and letting that emotion flow down the creek.

“Good,” the old gryphon nodded, “Now onto the third step.”

_*_

We went back to the monastery where the four of us, including Cleo, went inside a room that was filled with hundreds of candles and a smoky fire pit in the center. If it weren’t for the flames around, the room would have been considered quite dim.

Once again, we took our seating positions by the rather warm flicker of the candles while Cleo wandered through the grill of candlesticks.

“This step is called Fire,” our gryphon teacher said. “It deals with will-power, or passion, that is blocked by shame. For this, ask yourself: What are you most ashamed of? Or in other words, what are your biggest disappointments about yourself?”

Again, my thoughts go to Acrylic – this time, back to what he said on that ledge that fateful day when he was just about to jump. I confess that the thought had hit me at full force. I almost, almost let not just my then coltfriend-to-be, but a pony die because of me. All because I didn’t-

“Mr. Pants? Are you alright?”

I opened my eyes that were overflowing with tears, “O goddesses!” I tried to cover them up. But it was already too late; Acrylic had gotten up to hug me.

“Fancy? What’s wrong?” he asked in genuine concern.

“Acrylic!” I croaked, “I’m so sorry!”

“What’s this? What you’re talking about?”

“You… you al-almost died. Because of-of me!”

I felt his forelegs held me closer, “No. No, don’t do this to yourself. You’re not to bla-”

“But I s-saw the signs!” I interrupted, “You were s-so down on yourself. I d-didn’t tell you how v-valuable you and y-your art w-were. And I-I n-never confronted a-about your feelings! I left you t-thinking you were w-worthless. Acrylic, I-I’m so s-sorry!”

“Master Cloud Feather,” I heard him say, “may I take care of this?”

“By all means,” he replied.

“Fancy. Fancy, look at me,” I did. “The last thing I ever want from you is to think that you were responsible for my own actions. If anyone is to blame for not calling out for help, it’s me. I may have chosen to die on that day, but you know what? You pulled me out when I thought nopony wanted me. If it wasn’t for you, I may as well be forgotten, and you wouldn’t be this happy, and that we wouldn’t be here. I owe a debt that I can never pay for because you saved me from making the dumbest mistakes of my life, for that, I thank you for it.”

I wiped away the tears and took in some calming breaths, “That was needed. What would I do without you?”

He chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something, sir.”

I leaned over at my teacher who shrugged, “I’ve got nothing. Mr. Brush, if we are finished, I like to move on to you and Fleur.” After letting go, he returned to his seat. “Now then, what are your biggest disappointments about yourself?”

“Oh,” his ears folded back. “That I’ve lost my temper that made me disown my parents. Even though they didn’t know any better, I yelled at them and told them that they were dead to me.”

“Ah,” the old gryphon nodded, “A serious shame indeed. Got passionate at the moment?”

“You… could say that.”

“Mr. Brush, I’ve come to realize that, like these flames, that anger and passion is really just the same.”

“Huh?” the artist tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“You see, as the flames in this fire-pit, passion is a wise servant, but a cruel master. Use just so, and it can be used as a beacon for those who are lost in the dark. But use it unwisely or carelessly, and somepony will end up getting burned. You see, being passionate or angry isn’t really a bad thing. It only when it is being used carelessly that could seriously hurt something or someone. Do you understand?”

He nodded, “But how am I going to make it up to them?”

“We’ll get to it in good time,” he waved a claw before turning to my bodyguard, “And for you?”

“I showed a moment of cowardliness in a time of great need.” At this confession, the three of us looked over to her in sheer surprise.

“Cowardliness?” I asked in disbelief, “My dear, whatever are you talking about? You’re the single bravest pony that I know.”

Her ears and her lips drooped downward, “Fancy, have you ever wondered why I’m no longer in the Royal Guard?”

I admit that I would be lying if I say that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But I simply couldn’t imagine her being a coward at all! She has protected me more times than I could count, including during the Changeling Invasion.

“Is that where your shame lies?” our teacher inquired.

With a sigh, she responded, “The day before I was discharged from service, I was one of the hoofful of guards that were escorting Princess Celestia to Ponyville on one Summer Sun Celebration. We were almost there to the town when we were suddenly ambushed by this shadow. All of us tried to defend our Sun Princess, but that… thing as too powerful, it swallowed up anypony that touched it. I never saw anything like it so that I… I ran. I abandoned the Princess and my team behind. The next morning when Princess Luna returned, I was discharged from duty because I ran. Although Celestia has forgiven me for my actions, I’m not sure if the others of my original team have.”

Wow… Even now, that’s all I can say about it. I just thought she was hurt in action or something, I didn’t know that she was discharged from something like this.

“That’s quite a story Ms. Lis,” Cloud Feather said. “I’m going to tell you a little secret about warriors; it’s that all of them have experienced things that have overwhelmed them. It is understandable that you were caught off unprepared by something you didn’t understand. Yet, even from this experience, you still have the code of honor to protect the weak and serve the helpless, as any worthy warrior should. I would argue that because you’ve experienced cowardliness that you learn what it really means to be brave. As the old saying goes, being brave isn’t about not being afraid of anything, but rather, it’s about being scared yet, having the determination to keep going. You say that you’re a soldier now?”

She shook her head, “Bodyguard for Fancy Pants.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “then realize that you’ve already learned that you were able to transform your shame into will-power to protect this one pony. See that moment of cowardliness not a moment of shame, but as a learning experience to find wisdom in weakness.” The old gryphon closed his eyes, “Focus on your shame for a moment, and let it burn before you.”

The three of us took in deep breaths, letting our shame go up in smoke among the candles.

Now we were ready for the next step.

_*_

“This next step is called-” our teacher started before Acrylic interrupted.

“Air?” he asked. Cleo meanwhile was clinging onto his robe as a pegasus monk pushed the incredibly thick cloud above the monastery. It was so thick that I'm surprised that it held all of our weight. At the same time, however, I’m rather thankful that we weren’t too high off the ground.

Cloud Feather smiled, “Very good.” He said before turning to the Pegasus, “これは十分に高い, あなたの弟に感謝.” He let the cloud rest, bowed, and turned back earthwards. “In this step towards Enlightenment, Air deals with love and is blocked by grief. Now I don’t ask for all of you to tell me for who or what you’re grieving over, but please let it all layout in front of you.”

The three of us breathed in the mountain air, letting my mind return to memory lane. If there was one pony that I have grieved about for a while, it would be my mother. When news of her passing reached me, I confess that I did cry. This was because after I came out, she was the first to never show any change of her kindness, understanding, or love for me. With a mare that had social anxiety, she was strong in the face of my father’s objections. But when news came that she died, it would seem that my world was in a state of free falling before father changed.

“I can see in the three of you that you all have experienced loss,” Cloud stated, I wondered for a moment how he knew that. So I peeked, and like me, there was unhappiness on both Acrylic’s and Fleur’s faces. “All you still care about those who you love and them too in return. But love is a form of energy, like the wind, it swirls around us without end, even when it’s still. The love of others is not lost to any of you, for it takes on the shape of new shapes, new faces like the clouds.”

My mind saw a new face indeed, it was Acrylic’s. I saw his happiness, his passion, intense creativity, his straightforwardness, and kindness. Memories danced around from that night under the stairs to laughing about the stuck-up elite, even admiring his masterpieces.

As cliché as it sounds, but Acrylic Brush really is the breath of fresh air that I need.

“Let the pain drift away,” our teacher said as we did exactly that.

I saw my coltfriend drying his eyes, “Can I have some water please?” he asked.

The old gryphon looked up at the sun. “I say that it’s already time for a lunch break. Once we’re done, we shall continue on our last steps towards Enlightenment.” After calling up the pegasus monk, we were pushed back to the ground.

“Mr. Feather, can I ask you something?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you let us say who we were grieving for?”

“Because grief is an extremely hard thing to admit, especially to your fellow peers – that I would think of it as impolite to mention it aloud. Grief is something that only you yourselves could overcome.”

Chapter 24: Sound, Light and Thought

After a simple lunch, our teacher led us up the mountain. With the help of Acrylic and Fleur that navigated me over the blind spots of my bad eye, we followed the gryphon through the forest of pine and spruce, around bushes and streams until we’ve reached our destination. This turned out to be the mouth of a cave in which Cloud Feather knocked against the stone to give it an echo.

“Through here,” he said, “is the perfect place for our next step towards enlightenment. In which we call it sound. This little cave is a perfect demonstration of that step.”

He was quite right, as we entered, even from my blurry bad eye, I even I could tell that the space wasn’t that big. I dare say that it reminded me to be the size of my Dining Room back in Canterlot. This natural room was hollowed out in a dome shape in which every step we took, every movement of the fabric of our robes, even the purring of our cat, it echoed right back at us.

We took our seats and our teacher took is, “Sound my students,” he said softly, “it deals with truth, that is blocked by lies. Take a moment to listen to yourselves when you ask, not what kind of lies you’ve been telling others, but the ones that you’ve been telling yourself.”

Inside the cave, all went quietly in the dim light with our ears perked up at the hollowed sound of the earth. In my head, I pondered what he meant by, “Lies I’ve been telling myself.” For a long while, I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. What sort of like would I be telling form somepony like me? After all, any resident in Canterlot already knows that I prefer all genders; that I’m honest with my clients about whatever art they have is really worth; and that everypony already understands my opinions about the elite.

Then my mind paused. Deep down, an echo reached my inner ears that said only one word: Liar. The straight face before someone like Jet Set and Upper Crust that although I know are downright arrogant, I had to pretend that I agreed with most of the things that come out of their mouths. Or that I pretend to agree about the ideas of the rich should rub their fortunes into the faces of those who are less lucky.

At the same time, I knew why – being the most influential pony in Canterlot, only second to the Royal Family, I have to keep up the façade that I’m just like them.

“Well students,” Cloud said softly in the echo of the chamber, “what sort of lies have you been telling yourselves?”

I heard my bodyguard spoke up, “That I belong in Canterlot.”

“That I’m normal,” Acrylic stated.

Sighing, I admitted, “That I’m just like my wealthy friends.”

“Those are your lies?” our teacher asked. We nodded. Closing his eyes and hiding his claws behind his sleeves, he hummed for a minute. The cave ringed in that low note of his meditation. Finally, he opened his eyes and addressed to Fleur, “Why is it a lie for you? You were a royal soldier, and now a bodyguard to this stallion. So why do you say that belonging to Canterlot is a lie?”

“Because, and Fancy knows this, that the city in which I work in, isn’t what I like to call home. I know I may not sound like it, but I wasn’t born in Equestria, rather I’m from Prance, at least, the southern part of it. So please understand, I grew up as the pretty tom boy in the countryside and not from the cities. The meaning behind my cutie mark of the fleur de lis is really a symbol of pride of knowing who I really am, and what I can do. When my family moved to Equestria, I was old and free enough to pursue whatever I wanted. I wanted to be in the guard, but in order to do that, I have to move to Canterlot where the training is. To be honest, I never felt comfortable there. Not completely. It’s that I don’t like the buildings or the food, or even the ponies. Rather, in the cities, anywhere, I don’t feel at home compare to nature. So whenever anypony asks me where I’m from, I answer Canterlot because it’s a normal answer someone would expect to hear, when I know that it’s a lie.”

“So you have to lie about being part of the complexities of a modern city, but your soul tells you that you belong here in the natural world?” she nodded. “I find it fascinating that you lie to yourself about where your home really is. Often times ponies would envy those like my fellow brothers and sisters in the monastery because we try to live a simplistic life. But in your case, however, you have to tell others and yourself that you belong inside the complex web of civilization in which you took part of. I can see by now that you have one hoof stuck firmly in your duty as a warrior, yet the other yearns for life among nature.”

“But I have to keep up the illusion that I belong in Canterlot,” she said. “After all, when you’re walking alongside those that Fancy and I have met, the idea that you prefer to be out here is considered below them. If you’re not on the same level, you’re not worth anypony’s attention, even if that means to protect them. Even in the Guard, such an idea that I prefer to be among the fields, the mountains and the trees would consider me as a Hick, a backwater pony, regardless which country you came from.”

“Ms. Lis,” the old gryphon said, “has to keep up appearances really been worth more than peace of mind? To deny the truth of your background, and your source of happiness only makes your excuses to those around you only makes you self-aware of how hollow you’re pretending really is. I would suggest for you to make it frequent to go to the place where you’ll have no need to lie to yourself over. Because living a lie can be much more damaging to your inner peace then telling one,” he then turned to my coltfriend. “Explain to me a bit more about your lie about being normal.”

“Uh…” the Artist rubbed his hooves in circles. “It’s… It’s really hard for me to explain in a way that you can understand.”

Our teacher raised an eyebrow, “Try me.”

He gulped, looking over to me for support. “You don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to,” I said.

“But how can I help if I don’t know, or at least in part, of what the problem is?” our teacher questioned, his deep voice ringing off the walls.

“Well… that’s just it,” Acrylic rubbed his foreleg. “I don’t know how you’ll react to it either. I could already hear you say something along the lines of, ‘The truth will set you free,’ but what if it only further condemns you, even if you did nothing wrong? I know me being normal is a lie because I can never be that. Especially when you don’t know if the next pony you’ll meet would just simply nod or want you tied to a stake and burned all because of one little thing.”

The old gryphon tilted his head to the side. “I must apologize for this in advance, but I need to ask: Does this have to do with your yaoi feelings towards Mr. Pants?”

“Yaoi?” Fleur asked in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Oh!” our teacher quickly realized, “In Equestrian, the word loosely translates to... boys love.”

“What!” Acrylic screamed, his voice thundered inside the cave. He leaped back to the wall in fear, “How did-”

“Quietly please,” Cloud raised a claw, “two things: first, you’re being way too loud in here. Second, for somepony that seems insecure about this to the point he’s hiding his feelings towards him,” he waved over towards me. “You’re not that good at it.”

Acrylic still looked on at him, “How… how did you know?”

The old gryphon gave a deadpanned sighed, “When you’re at my age, you tend to pick up a few things from those that come seeking our help. It was rather obvious if you ask me, Mr. Brush. The facts that you tend to be really helpful in leading your half blind partner around and the comfort you gave at the Fire step was so noticeable, that even a blind pony could have picked it up, no offense sir.” That last comment was towards me.

“None taken,” I said, “But I’m assuming you don’t mind?”

“As I’ve said,” he shrugged, “Love is a form of energy that, like the air around us, flows and takes on every shape and form that engulfs everything. I have seen all levels of love during my time in the monastery, from mother and daughter to lovers that seek advice. Besides, since we believe that spirits can be reincarnated, gender is overall meaningless in the scheme of eternity. So yes, Mr. Brush, your ‘secret’ is not only safe, but it is considered sacred.”

“Sacred?” my coltfriend raised an eyebrow, “Well that’s new. Because up until I’ve met Fancy, I’ve been lead to believe that what I had was anything but. That I was a pervert that was incurable; a sick monster in a pony’s hide; an inferior being physically, mentally, spiritually… sexually; forever cursed to be different, to be hated, to be easily be forgotten, all because of… this.”

“Do you feel shame for knowing what you are?”

He plopped back down in his seat, Cleo walking up to him, arching her back as she pressed against him. “I don’t deny for knowing what I am if that’s what you’re asking. I’m by no means prideful at all.” The red stallion started petting the feline, “I just don’t know why that everypony, like you, Fancy and Fleur could accept the truth about me, but I still can’t.”

“Because, if I may speak plainly (as well as a touch crudely) to you, is that you are influenced by those to believe that to accept yourself is considered morally wrong. However, as I’ve learned, the truth never once gave a buck about morality at all. Traditions, customs, mannerisms, tastes, religions, morals, opinions, philosophies and even feelings, all of them have one thing in common: they can change. But truth does not. Truth is never compromising. It is absolute, for it can be tested repeatedly, changed, and even bend, but it cannot ever be unaffected, unmoved, or be broken. For there’s no amount of hatred, prejudice, ignorance from others, or you yourself, can change the truth you already know.

“To this day, I don’t know why love is complex. That should be straightforward and simple. But like the clouds in the air, no one could dictate how it should look or what mood it should be; because that’s the way the universe demands it should be. If you are in love with Mr. Pants, in whatever way, to do so is considered a sacred step in Enlightenment, but to deny who you are would only lead to discord in the mind. For the only way to find inner-peace is to come to grips with yourself that you are what you are. And no amount of self-lying could change that.”

Finally, he turns to me, “And your lie is that you’re like your friends, is that right?”

I nodded, “Allow me to put this straight forward. Unlike Fleur, I was born in the elite; I know how things function and how to behave around others. But, I’m not arrogant like them. In a way, I actually envy Acrylic’s honesty and bluntness because he could say to them what I could not. Unlike them, at least my father had given me an education about cultures other than my own, even given me an idea of what life is like for those who aren’t on the same status as I am. However, if I had to get anything done, then I must put on a face that doesn’t tell them what I really think of them like how classist and at times downright racist ideal of being the proud unicorns on top. So I must live with a lie that I’m exactly like them in thought in order for me to conduct business with them.”

“So in other words,” Cloud said, “You have to believe in the lie that you’re like your prejudiced friends in Canterlot, even though you’re not in real life.”

“Pretty much,” I nodded. “I’m guessing you’re going to give me the same advice as Fleur? Where living an authentic life is a much better alternative?”

Our teacher put a claw underneath his chin. “That too, but if I may add to it, if you’re giving your friends a version of yourself that isn’t you, then you’re only presenting to them a pony that only exists in fantasy. However, if you wanted to have your friends, and yourself, confront the truth, (and this goes to you too Mr. Brush) then I suggest that you take precautions in telling that truth. While lies can enslave the truth, dishonesty cannot live forever, so it would be wise to present what your thoughts and feelings are in order to give yourself and others some peace. Like for example, having a mediator likes your partner as a spokespony, or better yet, to teach you how to say the truth without fear.” He closed his eyes and said, “Take this moment to embrace the truth about yourselves, and let the lie fade from your mind.”

We took a deep breath and exhaling our worries.

_*_

“Congratulations,” the old gryphon said, “We’re now two steps away from enlightenment.”

The four of us were now sitting in a clearing on the mountain. All around us, grass and light blue flowers sway in the breeze while Cleo is playing in the green. Here and there, weeds grow in patches while the shady trees towered around us in the sunny spot.

Clearing his throat, our teacher said, “We’re now on the step in which we call light. It deals with insight, and is blocked by illusion.”

Acrylic tilted his head, “What illusion is that?”

He looked up at the sun overhead, “I am talking about the illusion of separation. All the things in which we think set us apart, are in reality connected together as one like threads in a cloth. Take a moment to focus on what you think separates you from everypony and everything else. Who are they? What are they?”

I confess, almost immediately, I could list off so many ponies that I would not be in the same room as me. For example: Mr. Pride and Mrs. Prejudice, Caesar, the Changelings, anyone that doesn’t believe in me or have a prejudice against me, a chunk of the Canterlot upper class, arrogant artist that put no effort into their work, Zesty Gourmand and much of the Nobility.

“Well my students?” our teacher asked, “Do you have your answers?”

The three of us listed off everything we could think of that we mostly our opposites; the infamous food critic, the Changelings, Acrylic’s parents, we’ve named them to him.

Meanwhile, Cloud Feather sat there, listening to us of who separates us. “Is that all?” he asked.

“I think so,” my bodyguard said.

“Now it’s time to ask yourselves a much more challenging question: What do you all have in common with all of those you’ve just named?”

The three of us blinked. What was he talking about? What do we have in common of those that we’ve just named, even some that I’ve never heard of? I don’t know who the drill-Sargent that Fleur had mentioned, nor do I know much about the last landlord that Acrylic had to put up with. So really, what do all of us have in common?

At first, I thought was that we were all ponies. But this line of reasoning was quickly dashed when Changelings are taken into consideration. After all, even I’m not certain if that my last coltfriend was even equine, to begin with!

But a thought came to me, what if the answer was much more simplistic than I’m making it out to be? “Is it that we are alive?” I asked.

“Very good,” our teacher smiled. “I will say this again, in Neighpon, everything has a soul. From the air that comes and goes from our lungs to that rock, even your cat is a living thing. Once you realize this, suddenly, everything and everyone that we consider different from us is just part of a living, breathing universe. Regardless of where one is from, or what nationality they belong to, or what gender they pick up, or what profession they do, everyone is equal to the universe. Therefore, separation is an illusion while we think it is true that differences make us, we would argue that the opposite is the reality of eternity. Take this moment to meditate back of all you see as separate, and see it as the illusion that it is.”

Closing my eyes, I once again saw those faces of opposition. It turned out, the old fellow did have a point, even down to the Changelings that attacked our city, the one thing that they did have in common with us ponies was that they were alive. Yes, I know that all lives are important, but does that include those that had sought to do harm to you? It would be easy to point to something like them and call them animals. But then again, if that were true, would we be accusing ourselves too for carrying out the same duties that they have. To breathe, eat, drink and reproduce is unacceptable when ponykind has been doing it since the dawn of time?

The more I thought deeper into it, the more cracks I spotted with those that I didn’t like that separate us. In that, every one of us has the same basic needs of seeking the means to be safe, fed and happy. Breathing in, I saw the world as divided; breathing out, the whole of creation was whole.

“Excellent,” Cloud nodded. “Now follow me to the final step towards enlightenment.”

_*_

“I will be honest with you,” our teacher stated. “Out of all the steps we’ve undertaken today, this last is the most difficult.”

Our final destination was at the cool tops of the mountain. From up here, we could see out into the Luna Sea in the flat horizon over the peaks of the city below. It is also from there that we could see the trail that we’ve undertaken all day to make it up this high. As for Cleo, she had already found a place to rest in Acrylic’s long sleeves.

“In the final step, it is known as thought. It deals with the great eternity of the cosmos, and it is blocked by earthly attachment. What is the very thing that attaches you to this world?”

My… where do I even begin? Should I start with the fortune I’ve made, the art I’ve collected, or the ponies that I know and love? Then again, material things have a price and could always be replaced. Ponies on the other hoof can never be. There is no price tag of my closest friends like Hoity or Fleur, nor is there for somepony like my father. However, as to who that I cannot leave this planet without would be the one that has gotten me here, my coltfriend.

Yes, although we’ve known each other for only about a couple of months, I do feel that with him around, that I’m complete. To me, he’s the embodiment of hope of having by my side, not the pony that has the same interests, but what I need as he does with me. Acrylic has been the only coltfriend that I know that yarns to have a real commitment to me that I’ll be willing to trade everything and do anything to make him happy.

“Have you found your attachment?” our teacher finally asked.

“I think we have,” I said, and the others agreed.

“Now here comes the difficult part,” Cloud added. “Focus on that very thing that keeps you bound to this world, and let it go.”

“What!” Acrylic said in surprise, “Why?”

“I didn’t say to forget your attachment,” the old gryphon told us. “But in order to achieve enlightenment, you must learn to let go of certain things if you’ll be able to see the big picture. By preparing to let go of your earthly attachments, heartbreak is meaningless, death loses its fear, and loss is pointless when you let those concerns about what you hang on to drift away. I’m not saying that it makes anything you find value any less important; rather, see this as a way to move on when the unexpected happens. Because the truth is, one day, you will lose either that thing or pony that attaches you or vice-versa, in which you’ll have to confront of having such a loss.

“Note when I never once said that doing such is easy. I mean, even I who have been doing this for years still find this the most difficult step. This is why we do these meditations and steps daily because enlightenment is a lifetime process to reach. For we are born to be taught to hold onto things that need us, family, friends, lovers, wealth, power because these things are worth caring for. However, this step is important because the blow of seeing these things gone will help ease the pain. It is to teach you how to not only let go, but also to learn how not to make your emotional and mental pain become the only voice to listen to. So I ask again, focus on that very thing that keeps you bound to this world, and let it go.”

Compared to all that we’ve been asked today, Cloud Feather was asking the impossible. I’ve grown fond of Acrylic, and I wouldn’t trade the day we’ve met for anything. But now, I’m being asked to let go of the very pony that has brought me up here? It’s absurd!

On the other hoof, he’s right. As much as I care for him, I know that the enviable will come. I’m nearing middle age for crying out loud! I probably got another thirty, maybe forty years if I’m lucky left in me. What would happen to Acrylic when I’m not longer around? Or what if it’ll be the other way around? Worst yet, what if Acrylic tries to commit suicide again, and succeeds? How would I cope?

How can I let go?

I confess I couldn’t do it – not now, not like this.

_*_

“So,” Haiku asked as we rode our taxi back to the city, “How was your day at the Monastery?”

“It was… insightful,” I answered.

“We’ve learned a few things,” my bodyguard said.

“Quite an interesting experience,” my coltfriend added. “So, where are we going for dinner?”

“I’m glad you ask,” our guide smiled, “there’s a place by the harbor where it serves the best sushi.”

“Isn’t it made out of freshly raw fish?” I inquired.

“Well, it is run by a gryphon family, but they do have a menu that aims at ponies too. They have some very excellent food over there.”

While Mr. Pose went on talking, my mind went back to the mountain top in reflection. That I was able to let go of my fear, guilt, shame, grief, self-lies, and illusion, but I couldn’t with what makes me want to stay on this planet. I’m not sure if that old gryphon sensed it or not, but once our journey towards enlightenment was over, we headed back to the monastery where our things and our guide were waiting.

“Fancy?” my coltfriend turned to me, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

“When we were on top of that mountain, did you take that step? About letting go earthly attachment?”

I looked on at my bodyguard and Haiku who were by now having a conversation of their own. “If I may be honest with you, the truth is that I found it too difficult to take. But I assume that you didn’t either?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think letting you go won’t be that easy for me, especially after what I’ve learned from you today.”

My ears folded back, “Yes, I showed my moment of weakness.”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” he shook his head. “What happened at the Monastery just made me realize how much I really meant to you. Besides, Cloud Feather is right on one thing: we need each other. You need my support as I do with you, which is why,” he took a moment to breathe, “I need your help to get me to come out to my family in Lightning Falls.”

Both of my eyes opened wide, “Acrylic! Are you sure? You know you don’t have to because that monk said so.”

“I know. But for the sake of peace of mind, I think that they should know the truth about me. Only, I can’t do it alone. I need to take some… precautions to make sure that if the worst does happen, I at least have something to fall back to. Some sort of plan that will help them understand plainly why I’m dating you.”

“Understandable,” I nodded. “Now that I think of it, perhaps I should get father on this.”

“You mean Tweedy Pants? Why?”

“Because, if worst comes to worst, and that they won’t listen to either of us, father would be there to act as a mediator for them. After all, I can guarantee that he’ll know what they’re going through. If all else fails, he could act as the voice of reason when they won’t hear what we have to say.”

“You mean you want to drag your dad all the way to Lighting Falls, a mining town, as for the sake of security.”

“Given what colorful language your parents had to describe ponies like us, I think we’ll need all the help we can get.”

He shrugged, “Good point. Do you suppose we can do this after we’ve learned if I got accepted into college?”

I put a hoof on his back to give it a comforting rub, “If that’s the way you want it, I’ll oblige to it.”

Chapter 25: The Parting Gift

With only one day left until we return home, Acrylic had gotten a splendid idea for a thank you gift for Mr. Pose for showing us Ichiuma. With the permission of our guide and his wife, he asked them if they would want their portraits painted before they leave. He added, that the couple could choose where it will be done and what clothes to wear if they so wanted, and so, they agreed.

This is why that we’re in one of the city’s park with Mr. and Mrs. Pose are sitting down on the park bench, holding hooves as my coltfriend is painting away. Meanwhile, Fleur and I are sitting on the bench opposite of them while Cleo has long fallen asleep on my back. “I believe he’s done with the sketch now,” I said as Acrylic put down his pencil and started selecting paints.

“私たちはこのポーズを維持する必要がありますか?” the wife said.

“Pardon?” Fleur asked.

“She’s inquiring how long we need to maintain this pose.” Haiku translated, “Unless Mr. Brush has something else in mind?”

“I need to put the first layer on,” Acrylic answered. “Once I get that on, you can drop the pose, but I do need you two to sit there until it’s done.” He looked between them and his bottles of paint to be put on his pallet. Taking out the thinnest brush he has, he began to paint the outlines in blue. He started with simple lines of the bench, the trees behind them, and the line that separated the grass from the gravel before attempting onto the couple themselves. Once that was done, he rinsed his brush in a glass jar before applying the light purple on to highlight the shadows were.

“Got it,” he said craning his neck over the side, “You two can relax now.”

They did so, while the artist got out some more paint to put on the lighter color, Mr. Pose said, “We do appreciate the kind gesture Mr. Brush, but is receiving a painting from you rather expensive?”

“Acrylic goes with a policy,” I told them, “commissioners pay, friends and family are free.”

“After all,” Acrylic said, “I can’t thank you enough for being so kind and thoughtful towards us that I want to say thank you in the best way I know how.”

“彼らは家に行くことを楽しみにしていますか?” Haiku’s wife spoke.

“私はそれらを聞いてきます,” he said before turning to us. “She asks if you’re looking forward going home.”

“Oh yes,” I nodded. “As much as I’m fascinated by your homeland, I do miss Canterlot, but I won’t forget Neighpon or your great hospitality sir.”

“Not to mention that it was quite thoughtful of you for letting us spending time at the Monastery,” Fleur added. “I must say that it was quite the eye opener.”

“I’m very relieved to hear that,” Mr. Pose bowed his neck. “I do try my best to make sure that everything about the tour was up to everypony’s satisfaction.”

“Indeed it was,” I said, “I can see why father had hired you. Though there is something that I haven’t quite understood.”

“Yes, sir?”

“When and why did my father tell you that I was Pansexual, if I may ask?”

“It was…” he turned to his wife, “彼の父親はその夜は, 彼は彼の息子について語ってくれたとき, あまりにも多くの酒を持った後, あなたは夜を覚えてすることができますか?”

She put a hoof to her head, deep in thought. “私は花壇を示すから来た後にそれがあったと思うし, あなたが戻ってきました. 彼は陽気な木から春の花を見てみたかったと述べ, 覚えておいてください.”

“それはときに再びましたか? 晩春ヶ月で?”

His wife nodded, “これは、右について聞こえます.”

Haiku turned to me, “I think I do remember it now, that it was in the spring that your father had too much liquor that he told us about your past choices in partners.”

I rolled my eyes, “Somehow, I’m not that surprised. I’m assuming that your daughter was in the same room when Father gave away that information?”

He nodded, “Indeed sir, she was. Oh, speaking of which, I’ve got a letter from her yesterday saying that she’s starting to work on the new manga and that she’ll make sure to send the first Equestrian copy to you two once it’s done. Which reminds me, before you leave, can I get a mailing address from you just in case that Ink might have forgotten it.”

“Of course my good chap,” I looked over at the painting where Acrylic has already established the base colors and is about to tackle the next layer. “How long do you suppose it would take?”

“Knowing her, it may take up several weeks, as much as two months for her to get everything right. It all depends on how long she wants to make it.”

“Did she get my painting for the cover?” my coltfriend inquired as he started to work on the wife’s mane.

“She has actually, and she’s very grateful for it.”

“That’s something I’ve been wondering,” Acrylic said. “How long did you know that Ink was drawing up romances about gay stallions?”

“彼が話していますか?” Mr. Pose’s wife seemed to inquire from her husband.

The two of them discussed a bit before Haiku told us, “Our daughter has been working for a company for the past several years, but we’ve never seen her work until about a year ago. Of course, we were rather surprised when we spotted one of her manga on the shelf of a bookstore.”

“Really,” Fleur asked while she lightly stroke Cleo’s fur. “What did you do?”

“We confronted her about it,” here, Haiku chuckled, “Oh she was so embarrassed when we showed her the graphic novel. Until you kissed your partner at that dinner, I’ve never seen her turn that shade of red before. She quickly told that her manga only focuses on the characters, rather than the… intercourse between two stallions; in fact, she said if we didn’t quite believe her that we should read it.”

“Did you end up reading it?” I asked.

He laughed, “Turns out, the book we’ve picked up, was actually a retelling of how we first met.”

“Really?” Acrylic paused for a moment from painting.

Our guide placed his hoof on his wife’s, “I would admit, at first we thought it was really weird. That our story was told as a boys love romance, but the more we read it, the more we saw ourselves in it. This was because like in the story, my parents didn’t exactly approve of our relationship when we started out either. So when we saw the same thing being played out by two colts that expressed the same level of heartache, suddenly, our view of ponies like you changed when we saw it from your point of view.”

“That explains why you’ve been so accepting towards us,” I commented.

Acrylic resumed painting the couple on the canvas, “I’m almost done with you two, after that I’ll paint the background.”

“Take your time sir,” Mr. Pose said.

I carefully got up while trying to balance the cat on my back and went up to my coltfriend, “How do you feel about going home?”

“In a word, nervous,” he said picking up some yellowish green paint on his brush.

“How come?”

“I would find out about school if I got accepted or not.”

“Acrylic,” I put a hoof around him, “for the last time, don’t worry about it. I’m very sure that you’ll get in with no problem.”

“So you’ve kept telling me. But what if you’re wrong?”

I blinked, “What?”

“What if I don’t get in, saying that I don’t have enough knowledge to go?”

“Who said that you would be rejected? Acrylic, we’ve been over this, you’re smart, creative and hardworking, plus you have enough to go into college debt free. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t understand how you can be so confident about it.”

Chuckling, I kissed him on the cheek, “Because I know what you’re capable of doing.”

“F-Fancy, please!” He blushed furiously, “They’re staring at us.”

“But they already know about us and you sir need to work on your insecurity issues.”

“Please Fancy, I don’t want to deal with you trying to embarrass me.”

I cocked a grin, “Awe, why not? It’s fun.”

“To you it is,” he muttered. “But I think we’re getting off topic.”

“Indeed we are. Here am I trying to comfort you about the whole college thing but suddenly quickly turned to a moment of teasing. You’re right, back to the subject now that our holiday is nearly over.”

“Yes, we should. I mean, now that I have a lot of bits in the bank, what would I do if I don’t get accepted?”

“Well, we could always try to persuade them in letting you in.”

“How? You know that I’m pretty much on the same level as an Elementary student.”

I rubbed a hoof on his back as he adds more color to our guide’s face. “Acrylic, I’m going to tell you a little secret, that college is in reality like Jr. High and High School, the only difference is that you get to choose which class to take, and set when you want to take those said classes. Besides, I think I’ve already told you that the one in Canterlot has classes for those who didn’t pass certain classes during High School, did I not?”

“I wouldn’t know, I never step into one before. It’s why I’m second guessing if I’d be able to go and all that money would have been collected for nothing.”

“Please don’t get yourself down; I do have faith in you that as long as you have your determination, you can accomplish anything.”

“As long as I have a really rich coltfrined by my side,” he snickered and so did I.

There was a giggle coming from Mr. Pose’s wife, she nudged his foreleg saying, “彼らは本当にこのようなかわいいカップルです.”

Haiku smiled, “多分. しかし, あなたはまだ私の目に最適です,” he said before he nuzzled her.

My coltfriend looked between them and the painting, “I think I’m about ten minutes away from being done. I just have to take care of the plants and it’ll be finished.”

Mr. Pose looked up in surprise, “Already?”

“Yes, come and see.”

Curious, they got up and went around the tripod to see him put the final touches of their portrait. Both of whom looked at it in awe. Four our Guide, his coat was painted in two shades of green while his mane, tail, and suit were dull black, silver, violet, and chocolate brown, his hoof held his wife’s tenderly. She on the other hoof lay on the left, her coat was in three shades of blue, the tied up bun mane of lilac and white that was held up by two thin hairpins of gray. Her butter yellow eyes gazed at her husband as his light blue eyes did at hers. The two were lying on top of a gray bench that was resting on the light sandy, brown and gray gravel with touches of white. Acrylic touched up the grass in deep orange and painted the leaves some parts of the trees in the same color.

“うわー!” the wife cried, “これは芸術の偉大な作品です! だから, カラフル!”

My coltfriend looked over at Haiku in nervousness, “What did she say?”

With a chuckled and a smile, Mr. Pose responds, “She says she loves it, and so do I. For what you’ve created, we generously accept your kind gift,” he said before he and his wife bowed. “Also, I wish the three of you and your cat safe travels, my friends.”

Chapter 26: Dinner on the Observation Deck

Author's Note

I'm trying to lighten up the mood in this chapter, because the next one is going to be a doozy.

Chapter 26: Dinner on the Observation Deck

The next day after we said our “thank you” and “goodbye” to Mr. Pose, we began our voyage homeward. Feeling rejuvenated and relaxed, I was ready for whatever challenges that Canterlot can throw at us. My mind was clear, healthy and calm. Although future plans were being made, I for one felt prepared to face them.

However, home was still a couple days away, and my coltfriend had asked me out on a simple date from one of the ship’s restaurants. This one was called the Observation Deck, in which the setting is on the top floor of the ship and in the open. It has promising reviews from what I’ve heard from both crew and passengers, which I can see why Acrylic chose this for our impromptu date.

“I must say,” I told him as he brushed my suit coat in the mirror. “This is rather thoughtful of you.”

“You know, after spending a couple of weeks of Fleur following us near-by, I were rather hoping that maybe we could go out together alone.”

“Understandable,” I nodded. “I admit that I too miss this sort of thing. Would you hoof me my pocket watch? Thank you.” Looking in the mirror, I was already ready to go until I noticed that Acrylic’s tie was crooked, “Hold still dear chap, and let me fix that.”

Using my magic, I help straighten out his black silky tie. “Oh, I didn’t notice that,” he said with a hint of embarrassment on his cheeks.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’s quite alright. You still look as handsome as ever.”

“But nothing compared to you though,” he said. “So I think that’s everything isn’t it?”

“Just one more thing before we go up,” I leaned forward to kiss him. “There, much better. Now I’m ready to go.” We then made our way towards the upper levels of the steamliner towards the back. Up staircases and down brightly lit halls, we exited out through double glass doors and into the evening air of the sea. The night was clear overhead as Luna’s stars were starting to come out. There was a breeze that blew cool air onto the deck as we walked towards the place behind the last orange steam stack.

There underneath a canopy of grape lights were the tables and chairs of the open air restaurant. We could see the cooks roasting the vegetables on the grills while waiters went back and forth between them and the ponies that idly chatted away by the tables. Encompassing the whole place is a red velvet rope with a pony at a podium in the way.

“Excuse us,” my coltfriend said, “we have a reservation under Brush.”

The pony at the podium picked up a clipboard, after scanning it, he lead us to our seats. Once we’ve checked through the menu and placed our orders, I turned to the red stallion. “So how are you tonight my dear?”

“Oh I’m…” he looked over to the side, “still rather nervous.”

“But not excited?” I inquired, “After all, college is such a big step for you. Are you still worried about what the application letter will say?”

“Well, that. And I’ve been kinda wondering about all sorts of things like what classes to take once I get in.”

“Generally you’ll be covering some of the basic subjects first, thank you.” At that moment, the waiter had set our drinks down. “From what I can remember, I had to take a couple credits of Equestrian, math and social sciences, before I could attend the classes I wanted to participate in fully. Again, I think that you ought to take part-time classes where you’ll only have to attend two or three classes per week. That way, it would give you some mental breathing room for your jobs and with me.”

“Do they have art classes at Canterlot University?”

“They do indeed.” I smiled, “In fact, they have a master’s class over there where students get to learn from the most skilled artists in the country that drop by. I think you would fit in perfectly.”

Acrylic sipped some of the lemonade before he changed the subject, “What about you? Now that we’re going home, is there anything you’ll need to do?”

“Yes, quite. I’m going to be taking a part in the Grand Equestria Pony Summit as a delegate in a couple of weeks.”

He tilted his head to the side, “Oh? What’s that?”

“To put it in a nutshell, it’s a conference where the most influential ponies from all of the cities from Equestria’s come together to celebrate and learn from each other. But between you and me, it’s more of a glorified high school reunion than anything else.”

“What do you have to do?”

“Simply put, meet and greet the other delegates, catch up with everypony to see what’s changed, and do it all in a festival like atmosphere. Just think of it was a kind of party where ponies from far and wide come to.”

“So is it just something for delegates only?”

“Well, we can invite guests to come and join us too. I’d be glad to extend that invitation over to you if you really like.”

“I’ll think about it,” he rubbed his hooves together. “Look, I know this is off topic, but can I ask you something?” I told him he could, “When we were at the monastery, back when we were talking about our biggest fears that you’ve mentioned that you were afraid of ending up alone. What I want to ask is this – are you afraid that this won’t work out?”

I reached across the table to grasp his hoof, “Acrylic. The truth is that I’m getting tired of my relationships failing. I don’t want to be that gent where he dies in bed surrounded by nothing but cold wealth. You don’t want this relationship to end, well; neither do I. Because I do want this to work with you, to show you the life that you not just deserve, but need. Whatever it is, I will do everything in my power to be sure that you’re happy at the end of the day. Perhaps it’s no surprise that we both need a change in our lives to something worthwhile.”

“As of now,” he smiled. “All I want is to have a nice dinner with you by ourselves, and maybe go for a stroll along the decks if you’re up for it.”

“You know, for somepony that’s never been in a relationship before, you have a way of making this old geezer feel young again.”

Acrylic snorted, “You’re not that old.”

“Whatever you say,” I let go of his hoof. “After all, our holiday isn’t quite over until we’re back in Canterlot. We have plenty of time to be as romantic as we like.”

By then, the food we’ve been waiting for has been settled down on our table. My coltfriend looked up, “Yeah, plenty of time left.”

_*_

That night went smoothly if I do say so myself. After dinner we walked side-by-side around the length of the ship, talking about anything we could think of. But since we didn’t exactly up for any of the nightlife of the noisy dance halls, we decided to head over to my cabin where we played cards for a while.

At one point of our game, a question popped into my head, “Where is Cleo?”

“I had Fleur taken care of her,” he laid down his card on the table. “I’m letting her watch over the blessed feline while I’m with you tonight.”

This got my curiosity piqued, “Oh? Is that so? Tell me old sport, why would you want to do that?”

“Uh…” he paused, taking a glance over at the princess size bed behind him. “Fancy, I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you.”

“Of course you can, but I’m rather curious as to what exactly it is.”

“Well… if I do tell you, would you promise that you won’t jump to conclusions when I ask it.”

I nodded.

Taking a deep breath, his cheeks flushing, Acrylic said, “With your permission, sir, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Now I confess that while my monocle fell out of my eye, my face turned bright red, I sat there for a good thirty seconds trying to process what I’ve just heard, “Pardon?”

“It’s not what you think it is!” he held up his hooves defensively, his cheeks turning bright pink. “Just hear me out on this, okay?”

“Before I make the wrong assumptions, may I at least ask why?”

He took a moment to breathe, “Look, if we do feel so strongly about each other, we know that one of these days that we might… you know, do it in bed. But the thing is Fancy, I actually… well, never even slept and woke up with another pony in the same bed before. Now, I’m not asking you that we should do it right here and now. The truth is, I’m not exactly… well… ready for that yet. I just want to sleep by you so I can get used to it before we actually do it.”

“Oh,” I sighed in relief, “I was going to say that it’s a little bit too early for that. But I can see your reasoning though. You just wanted to sleep in the same bed as me so just to get you comfortable being around with another stallion?”

He nodded, “Literally.”

“Can I ask a very personal question of you Acrylic,” I said to him, “Are you saying that you’re a virgin?” His cheeks took on another shade of deeper crimson. “Oh… I see. Acrylic, I promise you that on my honor, I will not do anything without you saying so. Because in my opinion, having your first sexual experience with somepony should be a special thing between yourself and those you trust the most. I promise that I will not touch you in a way that you’re not comfortable with, okay?”

“But… we can still, you know, kiss and stuff.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “That is if you’re okay with that.”

I smiled as I got up to place my lips on his rosy cheeks, “That’s fine by me. I wouldn’t mind some old fashion cuddling from you now and again.”

A yawn escaped his mouth, “Thanks Fancy.”

“Though, aren’t you worried that Fleur might walk in the next morning and misinterpret two stallions laying side-by-side in the same bed?”

“Not if you keep the door locked,” he giggled. “Aren’t you feeling tired too?”

“Indeed,” I smiled, “Mind helping me get into bed?”

“Of course, sir,” acting like my Valet for a moment, Acrylic helped me get undressed, placing my clothing on hangers and my valuables away before I, in turn, assisted him with his. Once we’ve put everything away and turned down the covers, the two of us crawled into bed, side by side before turning the lights out.

In the dark, I reached for his hoof, “Are you going to be okay?”

“I… yeah, it’s just that I didn’t think you would say yes to this.”

I chuckled and felt for his face to kiss him on the nose. “Come now, you can trust me, can’t you? Just try to go to sleep, my dear.”

He in turned kissed me on the lips, “Alright, and again, thanks for doing this for me.”

I closed my eyes, my nose pointing towards my coltfriend while trying to drift off to sleep. But then I remembered something, “Oh before I forget,” I said softly. “By the time we get home, I want to invite my father over so that he can meet you properly.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve promised him that the next time I get into a serious relationship with somepony, that I should have them introduced to him. Would that be alright with you?”

“Sure, I actually do trust Tweedy since you said so yourself, he’s not as bigoted as my parents. Besides, we might need his help anyway if I’m going to come out to them.”

“Understandable,” I yawned, “But anyway, goodnight old sport.”

“Goodnight Fancy,” he said before we were lulled by the silence, slipping into dreamland.

Chapter 27: The Definition of Insanity

Days of sailing and a train ride to Canterlot later, the three of us plus Cleo stepped out of the taxi to the welcome of the servant staff with Gustav at the front.

“Welcome home sir,” he said as he waves over at the Hoofcolts to grab our suitcases. “How was Neighpon?”

“It was quite interesting Gustav,” I helped Acrylic and Fleur out of the carriage. “You’ve managed to keep the house in one piece?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “I’m happy to say that everything is still running smoothly. Though there have been a few ponies that have come by the house while you were away, asking to get an appointment with Mr. Brush. I’ve made a list in the study, along with when they’ve been here and the price range they’re willing to pay for the paintings.”

“Splendid.” I nodded as we trotted into the house, “Is there any mail for us?”

“Apart from the bills in which I’ve taken care of, there is a few and one for Mr. Brush as well.”

My coltfriend’s ears perked up, “There’s mail for me?”

“It came a couple days ago,” my butler said. “I’ve put it on your bed.”

“Go get it,” I told him. “It might be the application letter.”

He nodded and trotted down into the servant’s quarters while I went into the study to check on my mail. As expected, there were a few letters of commissions for Acrylic and a hoofful of letters for the upcoming summit. Nothing that I already knew or needed to be done it would seem.

Then my red stallion came in with an envelope in his mouth. It had the blue stamp of “C. U.” with his name on it. The fellow did had a hint of nervousness in his eye as he trotted to my desk, “Here it is.” He said after he placed it down.

I picked it up in my aura, “Ready to find out if you got in?”

He rubbed his foreleg, “I-I’m still nervous about what they’ll say.”

“Here,” I offered the envelop up to him, “Let’s open it together.” He took one half with his hoof while I did the other with my magic. “Ready?”

Taking in a few deep breaths, we tore it in two until the simple white letter fell out onto the floor. I picked it up and unfold it. We both looked into what it said.

Dear Acrylic Brush,

Canterlot University thanks you for choosing us to be your next step in a higher education. We also thank you for filling out the application; this is because we must carefully examine each one to choose the most promising students to attend our university. Once we carefully check the backgrounds of our potential students, their level of education, their economic status, and a criminal record that we conclude by a committee of a majority vote, we inform that student of our decision by letter.

We are here to inform you, Acrylic Brush, that your application to Canterlot University has been rejected. The reason for this is because we believe that due to the fact you’ve never completed any grade above Elementary School, that it would be unwise to let a pony that has a very limited education in. Understand that this decision was made so that we don’t set you up to fail by the time classes’ roll around.

Please also keep in mind that our decision is not final. Until you receive a high school degree of some kind, we cannot let you begin classes here at Canterlot University.

Signed,

-The Canterlot University Student’s Committee.

I was shocked. I was so certain that he would get in without a problem. Looking up at my coltfriend, I could see hope itself die in his eyes. When I saw they began to water, I hugged him tightly.

“But…” he choked, “You were so sure.”

“There there,” I patted on the back, “This is not the end of the world.”

“What do I do now?” I could feel tears dripping on my shoulder. “I c-can’t get in w-without a stupid p-piece of p-paper!”

“We’ll just have to find you some teachers is all. Just to give you enough credits until you can get in.”

“What good will that do?” he questioned, “That letter said I can’t go because I’m stupid.”

“No no no! That’s not true at all! It never said that you were. Look, I can find you some tutors to teach you all the things you need to earn a High School degree.”

“Why?” he sobbed, “I’m just g-going t-to fail anyway.” Acrylic cried into my withers, “It’s not fair!”

I then saw something moved in the doorway, it was Fleur, “What happened?” she asked.

“He didn’t get accepted,” I said plainly.

“Oh no,” my bodyguard went into the room; she too gave him a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Acrylic shoved her out of the way and went full gallop out of the room. We called out and ran after him until we saw him locking himself in a bathroom.

I knocked on the door, “Acrylic dear, what are you doing?”

“G-Go away!” we could hear him bellow out, continuing to cry.

“Now Mr. Brush," Fleur knocked, “Let’s not do anything rash. Just come out of there and let’s talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about!” he questioned. “I’ve failed. Again!”

“We just need to try again,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong in fai-” Then I heard a cabinet door open from the other side. “Uh… Acrylic? What are you doing?”

There was no response from the other side. We heard something being moved and placed on the toilet seat. It sounded like that whatever it was had liquid…

I frantically knock on the door, “Acrylic, whatever it is you’re doing, stop it! Do you hear me?” This time, I wasn’t knocking, I was banging. “ACRYLIC! Open the door!”

There was the sound of a lid being unscrewed and dropped on the floor. On the other side, the crying still continued.

“Acrylic, please!” I shouted, “Don’t do this!”

When my coltfriend didn’t answer, Fleur looked at me, “Stay back, I’m gonna kick the door down.” I did. She turned around and gave the white door several swift bucks until there was a hole to see through. Now that we can peer through, we saw him wrapping his head in his forelegs, balling as he was crouched up against the toilet that next to his head was a white container of bleach.

Once the door was unlocked, I rushed in. “Acrylic, are you alright?” I lifted his face, sniffing it to make sure he didn’t ingest the poisonous substance. To my relief, there was none. I hugged him tightly, “Don’t, ever, do that again.” I told him, “Don’t ever scare me like that.”

“I can’t do it,” I heard him say softly. “I can’t do it.”

“Sir?” I heard Gustav’s hoofsteps approach us, “What the? Sir, what happened-”

“Get Dr. Bandage immediately,” I ordered. “Acrylic almost killed himself again.”

My butler and Fleur rushed out while I held onto the shaken up stallion.

_*_

“The good news is that he doesn’t have to go to the hospital,” the unicorn doctor told me. “I’ve run all the tests from blood to urine, and there’s no trace that he’s been poisoned.”

Thank Celestia, I slumped back against the wall. We were in the servant’s quarters with Acrylic’s room being across from me. The doctor closed the door behind him. “So he’s okay?”

“Physically yes,” he said. “But at the moment he’s mentally unstable. While we’re lucky that you're able to prevent it, I would make sure that he should be kept away from anything he could harm himself with that he could ingest, cut, suffocate, puncture, choke or burn with for the next twenty-four hours. So I want to make sure that he’s checked on often while you should contact a psychiatrist.”

“Wait a minute,” I stood up. “Psychiatrist? Acrylic isn’t insane, he’s just depressed.”

“I disagree Mr. Pants. Tell me, do you know what the legal definition of insanity is?”

Tilting my head, I answered, “Isn’t it that one does the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?”

He shook his head, “The law in Equestria states that a pony that should be committed to a mental hospital, or be given treatments that have to do with mental health is that pony has caused: harm to others; harm to self; or destruction of property. Considering that Mr. Brush nearly killed himself twice in the same year, what does that tell you about him?”

Although angry, I calmed myself down, “While I don’t agree that my coltfriend is mad, I do think that he does need help.”

“Again,” he picked up his bag, “I recommend that Mr. Brush should be kept under supervision for the next twenty-four hours to see that he doesn’t harm himself again. In the meantime, try to call up a psychiatrist to see about treating his depression. Also for his safety, be sure to put him on a liquid diet for the whole day and be sure to watch him while he eats so that he won’t use any sharp objects to stab himself with.”

Nodding, I thanked the doctor as he went away, and I went into Acrylic’s room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, all his paintbrushes, tubes, and whatever he could have used had stripped the room bare. Even his clothes were taken off of him, leaving him nothing but the pillow and blanket on the bed. He had his eyes closed, hunched over, hugging the pillow with the blanket draping over his back.

I sat down next to him. But he didn’t look up at me, “I’m sorry.”

Kissing his ear, I told him softly, “No. It wasn’t your fault.”

“How do you know? I nearly died at my own hoof, again.” This time he looked up at me, “Fancy… I don’t know what I was thinking. I let my emotions get the better of me and-”

“Shh,” I put a hoof to his mouth, “At least nopony was hurt, and that’s the important thing. But, Acrylic, you really did scare me back there.”

“I know,” his ears folded back. “By Celestia, what a complicated thing the pony mind is. That no matter how much you try to get to examine yourself, you may never fully understand why you do what you do.”

“But why did you stop?” I asked, rubbing his back. “You almost gulped that poison, but why didn’t you?”

Acrylic paused for a moment, “Because… I remembered something.” He sniffed, “Something you said.”

“What was that?”

“That you’re scared of losing me,” he squeezed the pillow tighter. “So again, you held me back from making the same stupid mistake.”

I moved my hoof to touch his mane, “Oh come old sport, I think you ought to give yourself credit too. The fact you didn’t give in should tell you about something.”

“Like what?”

“Well… that you’re much stronger than you believe to be. My father once told me that the opposite of fear isn’t courage, its faith. The faith that no matter how enormous the problems you face or how many times you see them, that you’ll see to it that you’ll overcome them in the end.”

“But I can’t do this alone,” my coltfriend said, “I need somepony like you from making me fall off the edge.”

I kissed him, “I promised that I will help you, and that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

He looked over at the door before back to me, “Please tell me honestly when I ask this – have I gone mad?”

Humming, I put a hoof to his forehead, “To quote a great line from a bad movie, ‘I’m afraid so. You’re crazy, bonkers. But I’m going to tell you a secret: all the best ponies are a little mad.’”

“Like van Go?” he asked, smiling.

“Now I wouldn’t push it that far, he never had such a compassionate coltfriend as you have.”

The both of us laughed until Acrylic said, “So now what? The university won’t take me, and I have a bunch of bits in the bank. What am I going to do with it?”

“Now now,” I patted his head, “first thing is we’ll need to gather some teachers together so you can get your degree. As for the bits, well, it is your money after all, so I can’t really say what you should do with it. Now then, are you feeling hungry?”

He shook his head, “I don’t feel like eating anything yet.”

I nodded, “I’m going to make sure the servants check up on you every so often. After all, I did promise that I would send my father that letter. But I’ll tell you what; you can sleep in my bed tonight if you like.”

My coltfriend then nuzzled me, “What would I do without you Fancy?”

Chapter 28: Luna’s Bouquet

To this day, I still can’t figure out how news of Acrylic leaked out, but there on the dining room table in black and white. “Impressionist Artist Again Attempts Suicide,” was the headline. No sooner than I’ve read through that article did the doorbell rang to a storm of my coltfriend’s admirers, patrons, and reporters were there, armed to the teeth with gifts, cards, chocolate, cameras, concerns, flowers, questions, and fruit baskets.

“I still can’t believe this is all for me.” Acrylic put my vest over me, every so often he would glance out the window. “Do you really think they mean it?”

“Most of them do,” I said. “Although there are a few that are there just because you’re a sort of celebrity while others are there because they wanted to be seen. But either way, since you’ve gained this much attention, I would say that a majority of them are genuinely concerned about you.”

“But you didn’t tell the press,” he said as he passed me my tie, “did you?”

“Honestly, I have no clue who said it, but they’ve said it nonetheless – which, again, I’m so sorry about all this. It is probably the last thing you need.”

“I’m not saying that it was you that gave out something so private. But regardless if it was intentional or not, there’s a mob of ponies out there asking if I’m still breathing.” He then went inside my closet and picked out my suit. “How long do you think they’ll be there?”

“Knowing Canterlot, they might get bored in a couple of hours, give or take.”

My coltfriend hummed as he slipped one sleeve up my foreleg, “Fancy, you’re not going to put me in a loony bin, are you?”

“Oh heavens no,” I kissed him on the forehead. “I wouldn’t imagine doing something like that to you. With somepony as wonderful and brilliant as you are, I’m not going to put you behind bars with raving, screaming lunatics. For which you are very well not.”

“Then what are you going to do to me?”

“Honestly? I think that in the coming days, I’ll have to make an appointment with a psychiatrist/therapist who has studied depression. Of course, I’m going to make sure that the doctor that I need to find is qualified in helping you. Be it by some sort of therapy or by medication, I’ll cover whatever cost to make sure that you learn how to cope with your depression.”

“As for my… uh, tutors?” he asked with a hint of embarrassment.

“Priorities my dear,” I kissed him again, “Doctor first, education afterward.” There was a sudden knock on my door, “Come in.”

One of the hoofcolts peeked his head in, “Sir, sorry to bother you, but Princess Luna is downstairs asking for the both of you.”

This piece of news took both of us by surprise. After I was fully dressed, we descended the staircase to find the Princess of the Night and a couple of her guards waiting for us. Sitting in her aura was a bouquet of light pink geraniums, snow white callas, yellow tulips, and rainbow zinnias. We both bowed as we reached the tiled floor.

“We have come as soon as we’ve heard,” she said as she hugged Acrylic. “Pray tell, are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine Princess,” he said, looking between me and Luna. “Can you let go now.”

She did and offered him the flowers, “We- pardon, I would have come sooner, but I thought it would be improper not to bring you something to wish you good health.”

“Your Majesty is most generous,” he said as he accepted the bouquet.

“Although,” the princess continued, “I was wondering, that is, if it isn’t too personal to ask, but what drove you to doing… it, again?”

Acrylic turned to me, “Didn’t the papers say about why I nearly did it?”

I thought back to the article I’ve read from breakfast, “I don’t think it was clear on the issue.”

Luna unravels a wing and draped it over my coltfriend, “Please tell me of your troubles, as your Princess, no, as your friend, I only intend to help you in any way I can.”

Acrylic’s ears folded back, his neck bends earthward, “I… I just overreacted to something stupid.”

“When life's in danger, there are no such things as a ‘stupid reason.’ Clearly, something has been troubling you.”

He took in a deep breath, “I opened my letter from Canterlot University to see if they’d accept my application. Only, they’d turn it down because they said I wasn’t smart enough to attend.”

“Basically,” I clarify, “it said that the only way for him to get in is if he had a high school degree, which was something he never achieved.”

“Is that so,” the blue Alicorn asked and Acrylic nodded. “Believe it or not, I had this same exact problem.”

This got my coltfriend’s attention, “You?”

“Indeed,” she nodded. “When I returned to Equestria for the first time in a thousand years, I was completely ignorant of modern knowledge from customs to speaking, mathematics to history, I was completely, how you’d say, clueless. There have been so many changes that for me it was like living in an alien world. Before I left, it was my duty to know everything, but when I returned, I quickly realized how little I knew. So you could only imagine how embarrassing it was for me to listen to my own servants and civilians, and yet, I barely had any idea what they were talking about. I had to relearn, and in countless cases, rethink everything that I thought was once true and timeless. So really, we are not that different, you and I.”

“Wow,” he said. “I never thought that you had to relearn everything. Was it hard?”

She laughed, “Oh quite! It took me weeks to learn about the workings of table manners alone! But as hard, and yes at times, frustrating to learn even the most basic of things, I still press on because I knew that they are important skills to learn. Even to this day, Celestia is still sending tutors to me to learn about various subjects from modern writing to the workings of political philosophies.”

“Do you think that…?” Acrylic said but then tailed off.

“What?” I asked while taking the flours into my magic. “What were you going to say?”

He shook his head, breaking away from the princess’s wing, “Forget it.”

“I said that I would like to help you,” Luna said. “If you have a suggestion, please speak freely of it.”

The downtrodden artist sighed, “You’ll never agree to it.”

The Moon Princess frowned, “Tell me.”

With a sigh, he gave in, “Do you think that… I could have some of those teachers teach me. Just enough so I have the credit to get into college?”

Luna put a hoof to her chin, “A fascinating idea. I guess it would give those that I’ve already been with something to do. Of course, I would have to raise their pay if they’re willing to take on an extra student. But then again, it would be like having a... what was it that Princess Twilight put it? A study buddy?” without warning, her eyes went wide and her grin stretched from ear to ear. “Ooh! There’s a capital idea! A study buddy! One in which we would guide through the complicated and confusing world of learning! Together, we will make sense out of the nonsense of modern life, where nothing, not even that evil is known as bureaucracy will stand in the way! But I’m rambling on.” She looked down, “Of course, these will have to be evening classes if this is going to be taken place.”

“E-Evening?” my coltfriend backed away, “But I can’t do that, Your Majesty. I still have a job to take care of that time.”

“Oh,” she blinked, “Remind me what you do other than painting again?”

“He’s my Valet,” I told her. “As well as my coltfriend as you already know.”

She gave embarrassed chuckled before she went on, “Ah, yes. What time are you needed?”

“By evening?” Acrylic answered, “It depends when he summons me. Usually, he doesn’t head off to bed until ten-twenty at earliest or at eleven at the latest.”

“Then there’s no problem at all!” she smiled, “Can I trust that you’ll be at the palace at say… nine-thirty in the evening? Probably two or three times a week for about an hour so you can learn with me. After all, I prefer to get my studies done early.” Here, she yawned, “Would this be satisfactory?”

“Nine-thirty?” he pondered before looking over to me, “Would that work?”

“It is reasonable with me,” I said. “Besides, at least this would take care of the tutor problem if her Highness is offering to study beside her. Though, there is one request that I do ask from you.”

“That being?” she tilted her head.

I smirked, “Please don’t keep him out too long.”

One glass shattering squee, quickly followed by the realization of what she was doing. She quickly recovered and returned to a much more formal tone the Moon Princess said, “Excellent, then we expect to see you tonight! Until then my ‘study… buddy’” she finished before heading out the door.

Acrylic looked over to me, “What just happened?”

“It would seem that Princess Luna had just agreed to your idea of studying with her,” I patted his head. “Now, as for today, I want you to take things easy until your lessons tonight. In the meantime, I’m going to make sure that these get in a vase.”

“But what do you want me to do?” he asked as he followed me to the study. “I’m forbidden to use my paints until later, I can’t eat anything other than soup, and I can’t even leave the house because of the mob outside.”

I hummed in thought, ringing the bell for Gustav, “True. Perhaps I could let you borrow one of my books. After all, everyone in this house is welcome to my library.”

He looked around, “I know that but… I don’t know where to start, or if I could even understand any of those types of books.”

“You did say that you can read, right?” the red stallion nodded, “Perhaps we could start with something simple, not trying to the point that insults your intelligence of course.” It was then that I remembered something, “In fact, I think I already know just the book.”

I trotted over to the shelf closest to the window by my desk and looked over the tomes to find that book. “Now where is that story? I know I have it here some- Ah!” I picked it out with my magic while carefully placing the flowers on my desk to make room. “Dear me, I haven’t seen this since I was a teenager.”

“What is it?”

The book in question that I held up to him had South Luna Sea native carving as the binding. The hardcover book bared the title, “Te Moana o te Ahi,” and underneath is a picture of a tattooed pony rowing in a canoe, facing the sunrise in the sea.

“The title translates to, ‘The Sea of Fire,’” I told him, “It takes place in the many islands of the South Luna Sea, as far south as you can go without freezing. The tale follows a chap called Whakamā (which means Shy), that, after losing his brother Mārohirohi (or Brave) in a typhoon, he goes on an odyssey to many islands across the sea to recover the last of his family. All the while he encounters spirits and creatures of local myth on each island he searches.”

My coltfriend took hold of the book, flipping through its pages, “It’s kinda thick.”

“Trust me,” I put a hoof over his shoulder, “Once you get through the first chapter, you’ll fly through it before you know it. Of course, the beginning is rather slow but once the brother hops off his home island, things will immediately become interesting.”

The door behind us opened, “You summoned me, sir?”

“Oh, Gustav,” I gave him the flowers, “Would you find a vase to put this in, they’re from Princess Luna.”

“Of course sir,” he nodded as he placed the bouquet on his back and trotted off.

“What is that?” my coltfriend asked. I looked over to what he was looking at to find him open the book to one of the etched pictures in the middle. The particular picture had the hero paddling away from an erupting volcano that the smoke had a very angry, and even scarier face on it.

“Oh, I remember this,” I pointed, “This is the scene when he’s trying to swim away from Pele, the God of fire and volcanoes.” Here I put a hoof to my chin, “Though for the life of me, I can’t exactly remember why.”

Closing the book, Acrylic asks, “When do you expect me to return it?”

“Take as long as you like,” I kissed him on the nose. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that you’ll be rereading it several times over.”

“Don’t you have someplace to be?”

I shrugged, “Unfortunately yes, but I promise that I’ll come back to check up on you as soon as I’m able. Alright?”

He nodded, “Before you go, can I ask if you’ve sent the letter to your dad yet?”

“I have,” I nodded before walking out the door, “Although I don’t think I’ll expect a reply from him for at least a couple of days. But in the meantime, follow the doctor’s orders and get some rest.”

Chapter 29: Father’s Arrival

About a week or so later, I, along with the entire serving staff stood once again on the sidewalk of my home when the carriage drove up. My father stepped out with his cat following closely behind. The cat took notice of Cleo on Acrylic’s back. Although I couldn’t see it, I could tell our feline gave a rather cold welcoming by the low hissing she made.

“Fancy,” my father came up to me, embracing me in a hug, “I came as soon as I heard the news.”

“Hello old timer,” I said, “how was the trip over here?”

“Oh, I’m fine of course,” he looked up to the artist, still in his Valet uniform. “I actually came to see you, Mr. Brush.”

“So I’m aware,” Acrylic told him with a gulp.

My father craned his neck over to see the Coltyptian Mao on his back, he smiled. “My, what a fine creature you have there. Is it yours?”

“Yes, sir. Please forgive the blessed Cleocatra, she isn’t the one to be welcoming of strangers.” Another hiss, this time I could see that it was aimed at Saaya who stayed close to the white stallion.

“Oh, I understand how cats can be overprotective of their territory. Though for the time being, we just to make sure to keep my Saaya and little Cleo apart for a while, just to be sure no one gets hurt.”

“Agreed,” Acrylic nodded.

“But back on topic,” he poked a hoof at his withers, “A little white birdy told me that you’re now my colt’s latest romantic interest. Is this true?”

He hesitated, “Uh… yes, sir.”

Father looked up and down at him, “Last time I saw you, you were in a hoofcolt uniform. But by the looks of things, you’ve really climbed the ladder in status to… Under-Butler, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I added.

“Ah,” father nodded before turning to me. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Of course, we already have tea prepared for your arrival.” My coltfriend answered.

“Since it’ a beautiful day, let’s have it in the garden.” I quickly pushed in, gesturing towards the front door.

I turned to the other hoofcolts and instructed to take my father’s things to the guestroom and to bring the tea out into the garden courtyard. Even before we stepped out into the early autumn green, before we sat down and the tea was placed on the table, I already knew what was coming. Or rather, I knew what father was going to say before he could open his mouth.

“So, how long has this been going on?” he asked.

“Father, I already-”

“I wanted to hear it from him,” he interrupted before turning to my coltfriend, “How long?”

“You mean how long Fancy decided to call me his special somepony?” Father nodded, “I think it was… What was it? About two months and a couple weeks now isn’t it? I think something like that.”

“Ah, I see,” Father nodded. “Also, when did you become a Valet again?”

“Oh that was several weeks before that, and before you say anything, it was Fancy’s idea to do this so that I have more time to do my paintings.”

“On the topic, I’ve heard that they’re selling very well,” he then poured himself a cup of tea. “Although, do try to pace yourself when you do sell them, just to be sure that they keep their value.”

“That’s what Fancy said because he’s the one that maintains all the buying and selling of my art.”

“So, just to be clear, coming from you,” the old stallion sat back. “You came here as an immigrant, did poorly for a while, even ending up homeless at one stage until my son came along. He took interest in your paintings, he gave you a job, a place to sleep and eat while encouraging you to create your masterpieces. Then you somehow learned that Fancy can be attracted to stallions as well as mares and before you know it, the two of you are dating. Going up the social ladder, earning his trust, you get to showcase your art, getting paid a good amount of bits, and even got the chance to travel to a new country for a while.”

“Mr. Tweedy Pants,” Acrylic said, “I fail to see where you’re going with this.”

But I did. With a calm sip of tea, he looked directly into Acrylic’s eyes and asked the same question that he asked all those that I had called my coltfriend or marefriend: “Why Fancy?”

The red stallion blinked, “Sorry?”

“I mean,” father put his cup down. “Out of all the ponies in Canterlot alone, where you might bump into a bloke that might have some… common interests as you and has an overstuffed moneybag, why my son? Is it because he’s rich?”

And here we go.

“Well… not really,” Acrylic said, “He was just helping me getting me back on my hooves again.”

Father snorted, “By the looks of things, I think you’ve achieved that months ago. Yet, with the high price paintings that I've been putting out, I’d say that you’ve already become quite rich yourself in literal rags to riches story. So why are you still sticking around him for?”

“Because he’s my coltfriend,” he answered.

“No. That’s not what I mean,” Father shook his head. “For what reason that you’re no longer poor, have a job and Celestia-knows-how-much-you-have-in-the-bank, that you still live with Fancy? Is it because he so happens to be the richest pony in this town?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because you’re not the first coltfriend that my son deems worthy to use his affection for the sake of their own paychecks, that’s why.” He said coldly, “Do you have, even the slightest idea, how much bits that he had spent on not just stallions, but mares too that flirt their way into his heart while the only thing they want is some gold bullion to put in their bank accounts? Considering that all that Fancy has done for you all summer, I do hope that your answer is anything other than money.”

“Do you really think that’s why I fell in love with him?” Acrylic questioned him. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, but, really? You’re accusing me of being a gold-digger, after all the things your son has done for me? I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but Fancy here had saved my life. Twice! At this point, I don’t care if the stallion has over a trillion bits or none at all, or even if he’s handsome! He could be ugly for all I care! But after showing me his generosity, his kindness, his willingness to actually listen to me when nopony would. Those things were just the tip of the iceberg of why I fell in love with him! He’s intelligent, accepting, patient, open-minded, loving, and has introduced me to a world of music, art, cultures, food that I couldn’t begin to imagine! He showed me what it is to be happy, even when my thoughts and emotions refused to be anything but. He’s the only thing that prevented me from jumping off the side of a building, or drinking that thing of bleach because I don’t want him to be alone again.” Here, he wiped the tears from his eyes, “I don’t love him because he happens to be rich, but because of the stallion that he is. Really, how dare you accuse me of all that I’m concerned about is my paycheck! I thought that you had much more faith in your son’s choice of companionship.”

Acrylic got up and started to head towards the house. I was about to run after him when father did something that I never heard him say; “Mr. Brush, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“What?” I and my coltfriend asked in surprise.

“If you’re not too angry at me,” he said, “Could I interest you with some tea and an explanation?” Both of us looked at one another before Acrylic sat back down, no doubt he was skeptical about Father’s sudden change in mood. “Tea Mr. Brush?” the old stallion offered the pot to him.

Looking between him and the pot, he poured some for me and a little for him. “Father, what’s going on?” I asked him.

“What just happened,” he said, taking a sip. “Is something that hasn’t happened before compared to the other relationships I’ve questioned.”

“That being?” I raised an eyebrow.

“He held his ground,” then he looked over at my coltfriend. “Not many ponies nowadays would do what you’ve just done sir. Considering all the charlatans that come in with polished smiles and fragile façades, I have to be sure that the ponies my son dates do not end up ruining him. You ought to congratulate yourself for being the first who was sincere in what you’ve just said. I could tell that you’ve never once lied in the slightest in how you see Fancy.”

“You could tell when somepony is lying?” he asked.

“It’s a very helpful skill to learn from all the books I’ve read,” he put his cup down, “particularly in business. All I can say in the simplest of terms is that it all involves the sound of the voice, eye contact, body language, and checking the littlest of details about the face to tell if somepony is lying or not. That’s why I asked you that question, for I was trying to get you upset because you can easily tell who a pony really is when they’re anything but calm.”

“How would you know all that?”

I rolled my eyes, before realizing, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that father is a retired psychiatrist, have I?” Acrylic shook his head.

“That’s was a part-time job,” father corrected. “But my son is right; I was a psychiatrist for a time apart from my other job as a CEO of a company. I know it’s odd, but a stallion has to have a hobby of some sort. How did you think I’ve met his mother?”

My coltfriend paused for a moment, “Oh,” his ears folded back, “in that case, please forgive me for yelling Mr. Tweedy Pants.”

He waved a dismissive hoof, “You’re already forgiven old sport. I’m just relieved that you really do care for my son for who he is.”

“So you’re okay with this?” I asked.

With a thoughtful smirk, he said, “With me here to spend more time with your coltfriend… we’ll see. But he’s off to a good start, I can tell you that. I think I might give you two my blessing – on one condition.” We both looked up, inquiring what he meant. “Mr. Brush, I’ve heard that you’re very good at painting portraits, is the truth?” he nodded. “How about that I pay you twenty-five thousand bits to paint my picture?”

Acrylic thought for a moment, “I don’t think that would be necessary.”

“Oh?” father raised an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“Friends, and family of my coltfriend of mine get their portraits for free.”

Father smiled before looking over to me, “Fantastic! Fancy, I think that you’ve got yourself a good Stallion after all.”

_*_

“Do you have your notebooks and pencils with you?” I asked my coltfriend as he started to head towards the front door.

“And the books, and the completed assignments,” he said before pausing to adjust his saddlebag. “Yes Fancy, I’ve got everything.”

“Good,” I kissed him on the cheek, “I expect you to come back by at least eleven.”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh come on Fancy, it was only that one time.”

I chuckled, “I know that your tutors kept you, but please do pay attention to the time.”

“Don’t worry,” he kissed my cheek, “I’ll be back for work in time. See you soon.”

After we said our goodbyes, my coltfriend was out the door.

“Where is he going?” I turned to see father exiting from the dining room, “Especially at this time of night?”

“Remember when I said that Acrylic needed tutors to help him earn that High School degree in order for him to go to college?” he nodded. “Well, I guess you can say that Princess Luna had offered him to be her ‘study buddy’ before she has to do her own duties.”

“Really? The Night Princess had done just that?”

I nodded sadly, “After news got out of his second suicide attempt.”

“Ah,” he walked over to me. “Have you found him somepony to help him mentally?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Acrylic seems fine for now, but I just don’t quite know where to start looking for a therapist that won’t just listen to his problems and end up saying, ‘By Jove, you really are mental, here’s the receipt, you win!’ No, what he needs is somepony that not only would help but knows what they’re doing.”

“I know how it can be,” he said before we started to head up the staircase. “One should always do their research first. It is very important to find the doctors who really have studied psychology and mental illness to give any practical assistance. Trust me; I know where you’re coming from on the issue.”

“Except mother never attempted suicide,” I retorted. “I could handle him when he’s down on himself, but when his emotions get so low that he would end it all is downright frightening.”

“Understandable,” he nodded. “You’re deeply concerned about his well-being. To be sure he doesn’t do anything to harm himself. May I remind you that I have dealt with ponies like him before? I may be retired, but I do know how the mental business works.”

At the top of the stairs, an idea came to me, “Father, I know that you’re just visiting, but would you help him?”

He stopped to look at me, “How so?”

“Well, outside from his mental health, there’s also the problem of his own family back in Lightning Falls. You see, he wants to come clean and tell them that he’s gay. The major obstacle is that they’re very… homophobic; going off the last time I’ve met them. In fact, he’s been feeling guilty of disowning them after they insulted me. However, we’ve both agreed that if this is going to happen, we might need you.”

“Me?”

“To act as a middle pony for us if or when things go wrong, I mean, considering what our relationship used to be like, you can relate to them. In that, if they won’t listen to us when they know the truth, perhaps they will to you.”

Father hummed in thought as he went to the guestroom door. “I’ll have to think it over. But for now, we need to focus on priorities first. You’ll need to pay attention to that summit coming up while I focus on figuring out how your coltfriend ticks and why. Understood?” I nodded as he opened his door. “I’ll be heading off to bed, goodnight son.”

I smiled and nodded, “Goodnight father.”

Chapter 30: Of Lord Night Light and Talk Therapy

By the time I exited the palace for the Grand Equestria Pony Summit, I was ready to collapse. There were some major hiccups involving Princess Twilight and her dragon assistant Spike, I’m still amazed that the palace was still in one piece. Grant it, the princess hadn’t enough sleep at the time and Spike had apologized for abusing his power by invoking Twilight’s title. However, even when we put that cursed gem statue back together again, the convention was still dripping from a flash flood and set things straight with the other delegates to clean up the mess, all I wanted to do was to go home.

Along the way, I paused at a park bench to rest my hooves for a moment, letting my head settle before moving on.

“Fancy? Is that you?” I looked up to find Lord Night Light walking up to me.

“Hello your Lordship,” I said, nodding in his direction. “Forgive me for not being my usual cheery self; I’m a little stressed out at the moment.”

“Oh?” He paused in front of me. “Why? What happened?”

“Do you really want to hear it?” I asked, and he said he would. Scootching over, I offered him a seat. “I just got out of the summit, and I can’t begin to tell you how many things had gone wrong today.”

“How so? I thought Twilight was on top of things.”

“That’s just it, what most of us didn’t know that your daughter has worked so hard that she needed some time to sleep. So while that was going on, that dragon of hers had decided to run things for her while she gets some rest.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Of course, when the boy explained it all to us, it sounds like his heart is in the right place, but his head certainly wasn’t. To begin with, there has been a water vane that busted right into the room where the summit was taken place. I asked one of the construction ponies why he didn’t fix it, and he said that Twilight told him not to. The same goes with the Dragon Sneeze Trees to be trimmed, in order to accommodate for Spike specifically so that he wouldn’t have a sneezing fit while the meetings were going on. I thought that this was completely irresponsible, especially coming from Princess Twilight (or so we thought).

“So to make a long story short, all the delegates, including myself, had gotten so frustrated with how poorly run the summit was going that we stormed over to where the Princess was to give her a piece of our minds.”

“You did what!” Lord Nightly exclaimed. “I’m sorry, what was that last part?”

My ears folded back as I realized not only to whom I’m talking to, but what just came out of my mouth. “Uh… You mean about the part of the angry mob?” I asked sheepishly.

The blue unicorn, on the other hoof, his jaw was hanging open. “Please don’t tell me that… any of you hurt Twilie.”

“Oh! No,” I raised my hooves up defensively. “Luckily we didn’t do anything harmful to your daughter my Lord. She’s fine.”

“I hope so! You do know that such a thing is practically treasonous, right?”

Celestia, this got awkward quick, “In our defense, we weren’t exactly thinking straight, and that we were able to find out what was really going on.”

He sighed, “So let me get this straight, you guys formed an angry mob over some misunderstandings?”

I scratched the back of my neck, “When you put it like that in hindsight… yes, that was somewhat it. But I swear that your daughter and her assistant are okay.”

“Okay, so what made you get up and leave?”

“Well, I just got out with lending a hoof in cleaning up the mess that not only we, but Spike had created to make sure our responsibilities and all were intact, I just want to go home.”

“So you had a long day?” I nodded. “You’re not angry at Spike, are you?”

“What? No, no, we’ve already forgiven him, he is young after all, and he took up a responsibility that he wasn’t quite ready for. It’s just that it did put quite an amount of stress on the rest of us though.”

“Ah… I see,” his Lordship looked away for a moment, “You wanna talk about something else?”

I sighed, “Yes, please. How are things with Lady Velvet?”

“We’re fine,” he replied. “I was just going up to the castle to ask her if she and Spike would like to have dinner with us. Is she still busy over there?”

“I honestly don’t know. I knew that Princess Cadence was there too, last time I saw them.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I really do hope that she accepts the invite. We’ve missed her and Spike around the house. With all that’s been going on in our children’s lives, we hardly get to see them anymore.”

“Really? Doesn’t she send you two a letter or something every once in a while?”

“Yeah, we get a letter and maybe a package or two from her every month. She keeps us updated with her life in Ponyville and her friends. And Velvet always ends our reply letters with the same question.”

“That being?”

He smirked, “When are you going to find a coltfriend?” We laughed at this until he opened his eyes with a realization, “Oh! Speaking of which, since you’re here, I want to ask you something, it’s about Acrylic. How is he?”

“He’s… starting to get better. Father is here to assist his mental health at the moment.”

“I thought he was a CEO?”

“He was also a part-time psychiatrist,” I corrected him. “The point is that he is starting to get better. This is good news on my part since I can at least trust father since he approved of our relationship.”

“So he hasn’t harmed himself since the… incident?”

Here we go, “Thankfully, no. I’m trying my best to be supportive of him when he needs it the most. Though to be honest, when the doctor told me that legally, Acrylic is considered to be insane…” I shook my head, “The last thing I wanted, was to put him in a mad-house to be on the same level with those gibbering, screaming maniacs. Because I know that he’s not. He’s not some madpony that can’t control himself – he can – he just needs some guidance in finding his path towards happiness. He’s been through enough as it is; I don’t want him to suffer anymore. Nor do I want him to think he’s alone.”

I felt a hoof on my shoulder, “I wish there was something I could do for you both. You two are just going through the unimaginable.”

“To be frank, Lord Night Light, I don’t know if there’s anything you could do.”

“Now wait a minute. Who says I can’t? Tell me something that your coltfriend needs, and I’ll look into what I can do on my part.”

I raised my eyebrow, “Such as Canterlot University?”

“Sure. I’m guessing this has to do with him getting rejected by the school?” I nodded, he thought for a solid minute before he said, “You know, if there’s a will, there might be a way in.”

This caught me by surprise, “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I think that Acrylic’s talent might be the key,” he explained. “You see, the last time I was there, they have something called ‘Master Classes,’ this is for art and music students who wanted to understand or further their skills by going to a special class, that’s paid by the school, to learn from geniuses of a particular art. Given the reputation of Acrylic Brush, I could help open the door for him by teaching a few classes himself by teaching students what he knows about painting. That way, it would get the school’s attention of what kind of potential students they might have on their hooves.”

How had I not thought of that!

“My Lord… that’s… that’s ingenious! Thank you!”

“Hold on a second,” he said. “If I do this, I want something in return.”

This made me tilt my head, “That being?”

“I’m planning to gather the family for a reunion. Since I’ve seen his portraits, I have an idea that will not only give us an original Acrylic Brush but as a credential for the university as to what he can do. Even if they still think that he needs a certain amount of learning before entering, I think that they will consider letting him in once they see the group portrait. Besides, I’m not doing this because his art is crazy expensive at the auction, but because we do love the art that he produces.”

“An interesting prospect, but I have to let Acrylic know if he would take up the offer.”

“Of course, and you don’t need to have your coltfriend do this right away. The reunion is months away.”

“Good,” I nodded, “Acrylic, father and I have some major business that we need to be taken care of soon. We’re planning to be going to Mr. Brush’s hometown, so after that, perhaps we could discuss the payment of this group portrait.”

“Fair enough,” his Lordship got up, “I need to go see Twilight now, Velvet will be wondering where I’m at.”

“Very well, I hope to see you around my Lord.”

After he left, I got up and called for a taxi to ride me home. Minutes later, I walked through my front doors and called out for Gustav. I found him polishing a silver candelabrum, “Can I help you, sir?”

“Is Acrylic around? I need to speak with him.”

“He’s in the garden with your father,” he told me. “Also, Mr. Pants had told me not to disturb them until they were finished.”

“Well thank you for letting me know,” I said. Though as tired as I was, my curiosity had compelled me to head over towards the greenhouse, where I spotted them talking near one of the ponds. Unlocking one of the windows just a crack, I listened in into their conversation.

“…. –‘re telling me that this isn’t the first or second time you’ve attempted suicide?”

Through the glass, Acrylic shook his head, “Not really. I mean, with what happened at the edge of the hotel wasn’t the first time that I thought about ending it all. On top of my… attraction to certain ponies, I have long believed that I was actually cursed.”

“I remember Fancy has told me something about that, could you explain it to me?”

He looked down at the flowers nearby, gently touching them with a hoof. “Before I do, you have to know that my town of Lightning Falls has not only a strong family culture, but we uphold the idea that success is everything. In that, if you’re proven successful at your skill, you’re considered an adult in their eyes. This is why I immigrated to Equestria because I was told that here if you only work hard enough, success was guaranteed.

“Before I met your son, sir, I had sold everything I had to come here. Walked many miles in hopes to gain my fortune, back then, I was so hopeful that things might get better, free of what my home town could provide. Since I couldn’t exactly pay for teachers or to buy canvass and paint, I had to rely on volunteers to help me based on what talent I had. It took a while, but I had attracted a few ponies to help me. But the thing was, with everypony that I’ve met that did want to assist me, they never last long. With every volunteer that wanted to teach me about art or have sold me art supplies, they ended up leaving me.”

“How come?”

“For some, it was over money troubles, or that they were too depressed, or their business failed, they didn’t want anything further to do with art, or just completely disappeared off the face of the earth. This was happening so frequently to the point where I began to wonder if all of this was happening because of me – as if I’m the one that was responsible of them quitting before the job was done. It wasn’t just teaching or art, but friends too. Many friends that I’ve made from Lightning Falls have stopped writing to me after I moved to this country. It was as if everypony that I came in contact with either up and leaves or disappears altogether.

“Since I immigrated, thoughts of suicide came more frequent with every failure that I came across. I kept going through a cycle that got me nowhere to the point where I was sick of predicting what was going to happen next. First, they offer their help, saying that they’re dedicated to do what they can. Then we work a bit for the first few days or weeks. Then something would happen to them to change their minds and leave. With that happening year after year, how couldn’t I think these dark thoughts of ending it all?”

“How many times had you tried to kill yourself?” my father inquired.

He shrugged, “In my whole life? Probably… seven, maybe eight times.”

“Oh my!” the old stallion exclaimed, “You’ve attempted to kill yourself that many times?”

“Not in the same year, I said from my entire life. Though each time that I was about to take that step (so to speak) there was something that pulled me back.”

“That being?”

He sighed as he plucked a flower from the garden, “As an Impressionist, we look at the ordinary and see something beautiful. At the time and places where I could have died, back when I had a little faith in my art, I found the light of the forest, or a field of flowers, or the river at the bottom of a cliff was something that I had to capture. Usually, I hated the thought of dying before I could express whatever creative idea I had. But when I became convinced that nopony wanted my art, I found something else that kept me alive.”

“It was my son, wasn’t it?” Acrylic nodded. Father nodded, “You have indeed been through quite a bit in your young life. But did you think that maybe this so-called curse isn’t your fault for having ponies leaving you.”

“I don’t follow,” he tilted his head.

“All I’m saying is that you may not be to blame for others that have tried to help you because it happens more often than you think. Not that your situation isn’t unique, because to have this little success for this long is noticeable. However, realize that the ponies that help you, also have lives of their very own and that something unpredictable can happen to them in the last minute. I had several clients who, without warning, left because of something that was beyond their control. Volunteers or not, you can’t be sure if everypony that is helping you won’t leave halfway.”

“Don’t you think I don’t already know that?” He turned around to look at his reflection in the pond. “But that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, and given my past, how would I know that Fancy won’t get bored of me and…”

“I highly doubt that he would,” Father interrupted. “Knowing Fancy, he’s not the kind of pony that would just dump you without good reason. Perhaps it’s my fault for hammering the idea into his head that if you want some kind of relationship to work, being platonic or romantic, it has to be based on trust. As long as you give him all the reasons to trust you, he’ll stay loyal to you till the end of time. In this case, even if your curse exists, I don’t think it’ll have the same effect on my son.”

“You… You really think so?”

“I raised him, didn’t I?” the two of them laughed.

Acrylic looked over at the sundial. “It’s getting close to dinner time, sir. I need to get back with the staff to prepare before Fancy gets back.”

“Understandable,” father nodded, “shall we continue our session same time tomorrow?”

“Yes please,” he said as he started to walk towards the kitchen doors. “But for now, I’m needed to help the other hoofcolts with dinner.”

Once my coltfriend had open and closed the door behind him, I stepped out of the greenhouse and into the garden.

“How much did you hear?” father asked. I was surprised and asked how he’d know. He rolled his eyes, “If you wanted to eavesdrop, make sure you don’t leave your outline on the glass.”

“Oh…” I blushed, “I’ve just got back from the summit, and I wanted to know how Acrylic was doing.”

“He’s getting a little bit better,” father said as he picked up a pebble before tossing it into the pond. “The good news he’s opening up his thoughts and feelings from the talk therapy I’m having him undergo. It seems that he still feels insecure about your relationship with you and his feelings can get out of control because he had many who had to help him just leave him hanging out to dry. Too many disappointments by the sound of it, where it’s gotten to the point where he is paranoid you will abandon him.”

“But you know I wouldn’t do that,” I said.

“I know,” he nodded. “But I do have a question for you though: when do you expect to go his hometown to confront his parents? I mean, I can go at any time since I’m already packed.”

“Since the summit is over, I was hoping we can do it next week where we could start heading down there by rail.”

Chapter 31: Lightning Falls

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Chapter 32: Acrylic’s Gift

We returned home a few days later. Once we reached Canterlot, father looked for a replacement for Acrylic before returning home to Trottingham. From there, we returned to the way things were. My coltfriend was getting an education, Princess Luna by his side while I continued on with my job. Of course, Acrylic continued to paint when he could between his duties of a Valet and his schooling. I’m relieved to say that through the autumn months, my dear Acrylic hadn’t attempted suicide, although he did need a shoulder to cry on from time to time.

The two of us went on dates, went to our guys night out at the Blue Smoke Bar for our card games. Each time we go, of course, Hoity would bring along somepony new to the table. The gents over there would ask us how we were coming along and what we’ve been doing the last time we’d seen them.

Months seemed to fade away as we kept each other’s company. Despite what fears he had, we stayed as a loving couple. Although I confess, Acrylic for a long time had been rather shy to show affection in public, but I on the other hoof sure did. When we walked down the streets of the ever cooling autumn evening from the castle for his lessons, I would lean up against him as we walked. I was, and still am, thankful that he never once pushed away my tiny advances. Holding his hoof, putting a foreleg over him, even nuzzling in a crowded room.

Now before I go any further describing what happened during the winter months, I must let you know that in that time, while we continued to get used to sleeping in the same bed, I kept my promise to not… Violate him. Although, at the same time, I confessed that each night, I wondered when we could go further. Of course, It wouldn’t be my first time, and I was prepared on my half when the time called for it. However, Acrylic did make it very clear that he was a virgin, he wanted to wait until he was not only comfortable with me but ready. He knew that all he had to do was to give the word, and I would be obliged to serve.

But I’m getting off track. The family reunion of Lord Night Light took place in early December, luckily for us; it was in Canterlot’s palace. Luckily for my coltfriend, he didn’t have to paint so many ponies. There was Princesses Cadence, Twilight, Prince Shining Armor that he sketched out onto the canvas, along with Lord Night and Lady Velvet. Sitting on the armrest was Spike the Dragon that sat next to Shining. Needless to say, that it was a small affair in which we were invited to. The family was posing for the artist, with the Princess of Friendship sitting right in the middle of the couch while her parents were propped up behind the sofa.

“And then, Pinkie said ‘Yep, it’s in the oven.’” Twilight delivered the punchline. We all laughed heartily at the story of Twilight Sparkle’s very eccentric friend.

“I tell ya Twilie,” Prince Armour shook his head, Sitting to his sister’s left. “You must have the craziest friends ever.”

“How come you get all the excitement?” Cadence asked. “It makes me wanna take a break from the Empire to come down to have some of those adventures myself.”

“Well, why don’t you?” Spike wondered. “I mean, you guys can just railroad down to Ponyville whenever you want.”

“As much as we’d like to,” the Prince replied. “I don’t know if both of us could escape all the paperwork.”

“Yes, you can. I mean, all you have to say is, ‘I Shining Armor and Cadence, by the power invested in us, blah, blah blah blah; wish to take a day off.’ Besides, you could at least hire somepony that would look over the Empire while you’re away.”

Lady Velvet looked confused and turned her attention to the Princess of Love. “You know, maybe I’ve heard wrong, but aren’t you two expecting?”

Shining gave a confused look, “Huh? But my Cadence isn’t pregnant.”

“At least not yet,” his wife added.

While they were talking, I glanced over at how Acrylic’s work was coming along. I smiled, “It looks pretty good so far.”

“It’s getting there,” he mumbled as he picked up some light turquoise on his thinnest brush. “Just need to get the color shading in.”

“How close are you with the painting Mr. Brush?” Lord Night Light asked.

He peaked over the canvas, “I think I’m on the final layer. There are just some colors here that are being stubborn.” After sinking back, he added, “Sorry for the wait, by the way, this is taking much longer than I anticipated.”

“Oh we don’t mind,” Cadence told him. “Besides, we like that we didn’t have to stay still for hours on end.”

“I tend to work quickly, your Highness.”

“A change in subject,” Lord Night interrupted. “Fancy, what are you planning on doing for Hearth’s Warming?”

“Well, since you brought it up,” I leaned back against a column. “There’s that annual party that the servants put on for Hearths Warming Eve. After that we all open presents the next morning, and we finish it with a feast for lunch. The servants invite their families over every year, but Acrylic’s on the other hoof is up in the air at the moment.”

“But what are you going to do?”

I shrugged, “What I do every year? I look for thoughtful gifts for my loved ones, overeat and drink until I pass out.”

This got Acrylic’s attention, “I thought you said you’re not an alcoholic?”

I chuckled, “Oh come on an old sport, you know I don’t make a habit of it. There’s a fine line between moderation and being completely addicted. But don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of things in mind for you to indulge on to make you as big as a house.”

He raised an eyebrow, “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re trying to fatten me up.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind,” I smirked.

Rolling his eye and shaking his head, he returned to the canvas.

“How are you guys with your Hearths Warming shopping?” Spike inquired. The family looked at him before at each other.

“Hey, I have barely gotten started,” Lady Velvet huffed. “It’s not easy to get stuff for you when my children are royalty.”

“I’ve already made checklists for that,” Twilight told them. “I think I have a pretty good idea what to get for everypony.”

“To be honest,” Shining leaned back in his seat. “I’m kinda having a pretty hard time figuring that out. I know the big day is some ways away, but still, it’s really tough when you have a city-state to run.”

“Or maybe you could just tell us what you wanted?” the little drake stated. “I mean, the whole family’s here.”

I tuned out at this point. While the family talked about gifts, I looked over at my coltfriend and I already knew the gift that was in store for him. Truth was, while I did inform him about painting the Lord Night Light’s family, I left the classes at the university out because I thought letting him know on Hearth’s Warming morning would be the perfect time to inform him. At the same time, I did wonder if Acrylic has something for me as well.

A couple minutes later, he paused, taking a step back from the painting, “Better. Much better.”

“Have you finished?” Princess Twilight asked.

My coltfriend looked over the group portrait, “I think so. You guys can come up and see.”

As Acrylic stepped back, the family got off the couch to go around the tripod. What they saw was that in the background of swirling blues, light purple and lime green were them at the bright red velvet couch. On the upper left with his forelegs dangling like his wife’s, Lord Night Light’s blue coat and mane was counterbalanced with small strokes of pink and violet. Lady Velvet had her gray coat, along with her white and light violet mane touched up with the silver of her coat, extremely light grays and blues in her mane.

For the children from left to right, Shining had his mane touched in turquoise and royal blue while his coat had quick brush strokes of eggshell white and snowy gray. Twilight had touches of dark pink and gold in her coat while her mane had different shades of purple. Cadence was touched up in cheery reds and whites that went on top of her hot pink coat and her tricolor mane moved and turned in several shades of yellow, purple and pink. As for Spike, the little dragon green and purple scales were expertly touched in silver, olive green, and dull dandelion that highlighted his light and shadow.

When Lady Velvet saw the work, she laughed, “Oh wow, that’s amazing!”

“It’s so colorful!” Princess Twilight commented.

“It’s so intense,” added Shining, “Kinda reminds me of those times we turn crystal when there’s an excess of love in the empire.”

Cadence nodded, “Yeah, I can see that. You know, I didn’t think it was possible that somepony could make you look better.”

He snorted, “I could easily say the same about you.”

“It’s not bad,” Spike nodded at his image. “I didn’t think anypony could pull something like that off.”

“This is indeed wonderful Mr. Brush,” Lord Night Light beamed as he went up to the artist. “We’re honored that you could come to paint us in such a beautiful way.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all sir,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I admit that it was difficult, but I’m satisfied with it.”

“I think you did a great job,” Twilight replied.

“Thank you everypony,” he blushed as he looked over to Princess Cadence, “Excuse me, your Highness, but could I speak with you for a moment?”

“Sure,” she smiled.

“Uh,” he looked over to me, “not here. I just want some advice on… something personal.”

Although puzzled, she followed him out of the room.

Out of earshot, it was my turn to address his Lordship. “Is the painting alright?”

He chuckled, “I really like it. This is stunning actually,” the blue unicorn turned to me. “I think I’ll be able to put in a good word for the University to give some master classes. Although, since I know that this semester is ending this month, do you think that he wouldn’t mind if you have him start in January, about a week after the New Year?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all your Lordship. If anything, it would be perfect timing since I wanted to tell him this on Hearth’s Warming – as a kind of a present for him.”

“Huh, that’s really thoughtful of you,” he nodded. “A change in subject, have you heard any news from your coltfriend’s family as of late?”

I shook my head, “I’m afraid not. There has been a very limited amount of information since his coming out. Oh sure, he still takes care of them by sending them an allowance. It might be unlikely they’ll be here for the big holiday, but whatever case, I’ll still be by his side.”

He patted me on the back, “Fancy, as your friend, I’m rather glad that you’ve finally found someone special. I think it’s about time that happens.”

“Now now old chap,” I chuckled, “let’s not jump straight to the marriage thing yet. It’s been about half a year since we’ve met. I think I would wait for at least a few more years before we hop into that sort of thing.”

“Did I tell you that she purposed to me a year after we started dating?” Lord Nightly inquired.

I rolled my eyes, “Yes, I’m very much aware, and it doesn’t prove anything. I wanted us to have the time to determine if we’re right for one another. Besides,” I smirked, “he does have the education to commit to.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

_*_

Weeks later on Hearths Warming Eve, I sat there in the chair in my study, watching the snow falling outside while my phonograph was playing a piece from Horseshoepin. While the servant party was winding down to where everypony was starting to drift to bed, I on the other hoof was still up, watching the snow dance outside my window. To me, this is my most favorite part of winter to watch the flakes waltz by the streetlights that illuminate them.

It was then that I heard a knock, “The door’s open.” I looked over to see who entered into the study. “Ah, Acrylic, it’s good to see you. How was the party?”

“I thought it was okay,” he said closing the door with his hind leg. “You were right, the food was really good. But why are you here? You didn’t stay too long at the party.”

Looking back at the glass, I informed him, “It’s because I wanted some quiet time. Look, have you seen the snow out there?”

He went over to the window that was on the opposite end of the room, “It’s lovely.”

“To be honest with you,” I sighed. “Normally, winter isn’t my favorite season out of the four. When you’re out there, you’re cold, wet, the wind is too strong, bitter and you risk falling over with every step you take. In my opinion, winter is meant to be viewed at a distance. For when you’re inside looking out, it’s beautiful. Cold, pure, but beautiful all the same,” I looked over to him. “So, why are you here? It’s not exactly time to retire, is it?”

I saw his cheeks turn pink on his red coat; he looked like he had something uneasy on his mind.

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” he snapped his attention. “N-No. Nothing wrong, it’s just…”

I raised an eyebrow, “Yes?”

“Well… I uh…” there was a further blush as it deepens. “I…” He sighed, “Fancy, can I talk to you?”

“Of course you can. I’m all ears.”

He sat down awkwardly across the room, pawing at the carpet. “This… This isn’t going to be… easy, for me to say this directly.”

I was curious at this point, but I said nothing.

“Fancy… I want to… give you a gift.”

“This early?” I pondered, “But it’s not Hearths Warming yet.”

He nodded, but his blush won’t go away, “I know… It’s just that… I uh… I feel ready to do it… now.”

“Okay,” I shrugged, looking around. “So where is it?”

Gulping, Acrylic stood up and gingerly walked over to me. “You see… Fancy, do you remember when we were coming back from Neighpon that I wanted to get used to sleeping in the same bed as you?”

“I do. Why?”

“Well… We’ve been dating for… what? About six or so months now?”

“Acrylic, dear, where are you going with this?”

He paused and took in a deep breath, “Fancy, for Hearth’s Warming, I want to give you a gift. Something that’s very personal. Something that I wouldn’t give away freely unless I made up my mind, and absolutely, without question or doubt, I am willing to give it to you. You know I trust you, Fancy, above anypony else.”

‘Wait… Is he… Is he proposing what I think he’s proposing?’ I asked myself.

“Fancy,” the Impressionist took my hoof into his. “For Hearths Warming, I’m giving myself to you. Fully.”

My jaw dropped. “By Jove… Acrylic, are you absolutely sure about this?”

He nodded, “Yes, I’m ready.”

I could hear my own heart skip a couple of beats as my cheeks heated up. “Really? You actually wanted to do it? Tonight?”

“I really do,” he smiled, “Besides, I do trust you. But I on the other hoof, have no clue what I’m doing.”

Now, I confess that when I heard that, there was only one thing in my head at that point.

Happy Hearths Warming to me!

“O-Of course,” he added, “I can’t make you if you don’t wanna. I wasn’t sure if six months was too soon or- whoa!”

Lighting up my horn, I swept him off his hooves, carrying him on his back before teleporting the phonograph into the bedroom.

“F-Fancy? What are,” I walked over to him in a loving gaze, “Oh…”

“Acrylic, before anything happens, I must say that this is unbelievably thoughtful of you. In truth, I’ve been waiting for a while for you to suggest such an activity.” This made him blush. “Now, with that being said, I know that this will be your first time, I know how nervous you are at this moment thinking you need to please me. Please do me this favor and forget that. Tonight won’t be just about me, or you, but us. While I can’t guarantee that everything will go right in one go, I can promise you that on my behalf, I’ll try to look at this as a… kind of a performance.”

“Uh, o-okay,” he said. I start trotting out of the study, carrying Acrylic in front of me.

“The next thing is that if we’re going to really do this, I want you to understand one thing. If at any time I cross a line and make you feel uncomfortable in any way at all, please, say something immediately. And I will stop right there and then.”

He nodded as I carried him up the staircase, and headed down the hall towards the master’s bedroom.

“S-So,” he said. “What do I do?”

I chuckled, “Well, first you must take care of the usual duties as a Valet. But once everything is done, then I’ll assist you in the preparations to make this go as smoothly as possible for you.” Stepping through the door, I turned to him, “Just remember, you don’t have to do this for me. You have a say in stopping at any time.”

He shook his head and kissed me. “No. As I’ve said, I’m ready for this. Though I have to ask – do you trust me too?”

Smirking, I kissed him back, “Of course old sport. For now, let’s see where this goes.”

With that, I closed the door and locked it behind me.

Chapter 33: Master Classes

There are many differences between Hoity Toity and I. However one of those differences particularly stand out to me; that is, that unlike him, I don’t go around telling everypony what happened during those intimate moments in the bedroom. Besides, I come to think of telling such activities to be… personal. However, I will tell you about the morning after if you’re so curious.

On Hearths Warming morning, the whole house was exchanging presents from me to the servants and vice-versa. My coltfriend and I were sitting on the loveseat in the living room where the tree was. Our gifts were put aside on the coffee table beside the couch.

“You know,” Acrylic said, looking at his pile, “I have to say that this is the most amounts of presents that I’ve been given on Hearths Warming.”

I smiled slyly, “Well that’s what you get for having a coltfriend that spoils you.”

Chuckling, he blushed and looked around, “Hey, are you sure that you’re okay?”

“Yes, yes, I already told you. I’m fine, it’s just… it’s been a while for me. You?”

“Well… I’m still a little sore, but not as much,” he whispered so that the other servants didn’t hear him.

I frowned, “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you anything?”

“No, I just need some rest, and so do you.”

Snorting, I replied, “Oh you don’t have to worry about little old me dear. I know what my own body is capable of; it’s just you that I’m concerned about. I want to know that you’re okay.”

He looked around at the other servants in the room, “Do you think they noticed?”

“Unlikely. Though just to be sure, regardless of the festivity, I want you to take it easy for a bit.”

This made him laugh, “It’s not that bad. I think I’ll be fine in another hour or so.”

“If you say so,” I looked down at my presents and realized something. “Oh! I nearly forgot! Acrylic, I have a present for you as well, or rather, some great news that you need to hear.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Oh? What news?”

“Well,” I took his hooves, “What if I told you that I have a friend of mine that is willing to help open the door to Canterlot University for you?”

The artist looked at me flatly, clearly unconvinced, “But the letter, you know what it said.”

“Yes, I know. But there’s a loophole,” this got his ears to perk up. “You see, Lord Night Light knows that the university has a certain program for young artists, called a Master’s Class, where experienced artists like you get to teach students the best of their crafts. Since you have a reputation of being a Modern Impressionist, we’re making arrangements for you to teach a couple of classes on the art of painting.”

He blinked, “And how is this going to get me into the school?”

“Since you’ll be technically working at the University, the staff over there will see up close, what you’re truly capable of doing as a student. So by the time you reached your required level of education with Princess Luna, they will have to let you in since you’ve worked for them. Not only that, but with the money, you’re making off of your art, and being able to teach, that will also help pave the way into the school.”

His jaw dropped, for a minute, I gave him some time to process this. Then he started to tear up.

“Acrylic? I’m sorry, is this too much?”

The response came through squeezing the daylights out of me, “F-Fancy, you’re a miracle worker! I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, a ‘thank you’ would be proper.” I hugged back.

He laughed as broke the hug, “Thank you so much. What did I do to deserve somepony like you?”

I shrugged, “Simply being you I guess.” I kissed him on the nose, “Happy Hearths Warming Acrylic.”

“So when am I expected to start teaching these classes anyway? And what exactly will I do?”

“I’ll talk to Lord Night about the finer details once we get things secured for you. But once you get in, it’s all a matter of making an,” I smirked, “impression, on the college staff there.”

He snorted, “That’s gotta be the worst use of a pun I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe, but you liked it.”

Acrylic rolled his eyes. “So when is it?”

“It will be after the New Year, taught at the university.”

He sat back, thinking for a moment, “Would you come with me, since I’ve never done anything like it before?”

“Of course,” I told him.

_*_

Canterlot University is quite a monumental structure, even during the winter when the dome roofs are covered in ice. White columns towed over the front entrance of the three-story building made entirely out of stone.

Acrylic and I walked down the narrow stretch of salted sidewalk. On his back, a canvas, easel, and bag that held his paints and brushes that were on top of the thick, black coat that came with a hood. He looked like he was going to explore the North Pole with all the equipment clinging on.

“Where did you say it was again?” he asked as we approached the massive steps.

“It said that we are in the west wing, room 248.” Before we could make the climb, I noticed that my coltfriend’s hooves were still. Turning around, I saw him looking up at the structure, “Are you coming?”

“Sorry,” he shook his head, “It’s just… here I thought that I would never set hoof in this place as a student, but now I come as a teacher. Fancy, do you think I’m ready for this?”

“All you’ll be doing is demonstrating how you paint impressionist style, and to give some advice to the students. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“But, what if I mess up? What if they find me boring? Or they can’t understand me? Or-”

I wrapped my foreleg around his neck, “Acrylic, you’re going to do brilliantly. Now come along, they’re waiting for you.”

After trotting upstairs so titanic that they lead up to the second floor, we went down some unfamiliar hallways to the room where the Impressionist would be teaching in. The classroom was quite large, as it held twenty or so students; each of them had canvas, paints and a small mirror nearby. They were chatting away, works of other students were on full display on the walls.

My coltfriend gulped as he walked towards the front of the classroom. The other students went quiet as he set his things up; meanwhile, I found a seat in the back of the room to observe. Once he was ready, he faced the students and nodded. “Afternoon everypony, my name is Acrylic Brush... and I’m sorry.”

This got several confused glances from everyone, including me. “I’ll have you know that this is not only the first time I’ve taught a class but the first time of stepping in one, period. I am not a teacher. All I’m here for is to give all of you some instructions, and some advice, on the style of Impressionism. So if I say something that isn’t clear, or that you have some sort of question about something, please, don’t be afraid to ask. I’m just learning how to do this as much as you are learning how to paint. So before we get started, are there any questions for me?”

A mare raised her hoof, “Mr. Brush, what’s our objective with what we’re doing today?”

He blinked, “Sorry?”

“I mean, what are we doing with our paintings in this class?”

“Oh,” Acrylic said, “Today, we’re doing to do self-portraits in the style of Impressionism. As one myself, I tend to use a lot of colors, use complementary colors, which by the way, you don’t need to draw them all out accurately. I mean heck, the truth is I’m terrible at drawing, but it’s the colors you’ll be putting on that will make the difference.”

This time a stallion’s hoof raised, “Since we’re doing self-portraits, what do we put in the background?”

“Well,” he said as he opened his bag, “when I’m doing portraits, sometimes I use the colors that are behind the pony or I put on what I feel like painting that day. Sometimes it’s a grey day, other times it’s a yellow day, or maybe today is pink. So use whatever paint that you think will make all the other colors pop.”

Another hoof was raised, “I’ve heard somewhere that Impressionists used to use a thin brush in blue to paint their outlines, so do we do that or draw them out with a pencil?”

“Personally, I prefer both,” he told them. “I sketch out something first on the canvas and then retrace them in blue. But I think whatever you think is best. The first thing I want all of you to do is to make your outline of yourself. Don’t worry about the background, just focus on yourself.”

As they picked up their pencils and brushes, putting their outlines onto the canvas, the door to the classroom opened up. A mare came in one that was older than me. She quietly walked back of the class, right where I was. The mare had a grey mane that was tied up in a bun matching her coat. She had a dull scroll for a cutie mark. She raised an eyebrow at me, “Mr. Pants I presume?”

I nodded, “It is. And you are?”

She offered to shake my hoof, “Call me Mrs. Scholar; I’m here to observe Mr. Brush’s academic performance. May I take a seat?”

Offering the other chair next to me, she too sat down, taking out a clipboard and a pen in her magic. “So who exactly are you?” I inquired. “You’re not the headmaster, are you?”

“No,” she replied, “an assistant is more like it. But what are you doing here on campus?”

“Giving Mr. Brush some support for his first day of teaching,” I nodded over to the artist who had already done the outline of himself, he now walked between the lines of canvases. “This is something he’s never done before, so it’s best to have someone he trusts here.”

She shrugged, “Fair enough, as long as you don’t cause a distraction among the students. For now, let me do my job and observe him.”

We turned back to the class where my coltfriend went up to a mare that, at this angle, she seemed to struggle to get her face in the right proportions since she kept erasing and redrawing it.

“Mind if I give you a little advice that might help you?” he asked and she nodded.

“Sorry, it’s just I hate doing portraits. I can never get the eyes right.”

“You know, I had the exact same problem when I first painted ponies,” he said. “Look at my sketch; I’ve learned a little trick that will help get the face in the right place. Have you noticed that the distance between the pupils of one’s eye to the chin is the exact same space between the pupils and the top of the head. I mean,” he held out both of his hooves, one touching his chin while the other level to his eyes. “If I measured it out like so, then this should be the same as this.” Then he shifted the space of his hooves to his eye to the top of his head. “You see? Exactly the same, so a good rule to go by is to make sure your eyes are roughly in the center.”

“So, something like this?” she redrew her oval in which she marked the center with a line in order to proceed in placing a smaller circle in it.

“That looks about right, does that help?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I think I can work off from here.”

After going from student to student to see how they were doing and giving the same advice, he returned to his canvas.

“Okay, now this next part, which I’ve learned through trial and error, is that we’re going to apply color to our portraits. In Impressionism, the whole idea of it is to add layers of color on top of one another. The way we do that is by establishing the first layer to the painting in which you start out with some distinct yet, bright colors. The reason behind this is because I found out that it will give your picture much light then if you only did it in darker tones.

“As I said about the background, look at the colors of yourself first and then either find a color that makes your portrait pop or uses a color that you feel right about. But the important thing is to get as much paint on the canvas as quickly as possible. Just fill in the gaps between the outlines in an establishing color.”

The other students started to follow his example as Acrylic applied the first layer of paint onto his canvas. I looked over at the mare next to me, who was jotting down some notes. “Are you sure this is his first time teaching?” she asked me.

“It is,” I nodded. “You should have seen how nervous he was when we got here.”

She didn’t respond for a few minutes before she looked up her notes. “Can I ask you something since you apparently know Mr. Brush quite well?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know what college degree he has?” she pointed her pen at him.

I chuckled, “You haven’t heard, haven’t you?” Mrs. Scholar raised an eyebrow, “He’s never been to an art class. In fact, he has never set hoof in a high school either.”

This received a surprised look from her, “You’re pulling my tail.”

“Oh no, it’s true. He taught himself how to paint.”

“But… I thought he is a successful artist?”

“With my help, he is, and he’s been trying to go to college himself. To this very school in fact, only… it was denied.”

Her face contorted in disbelief, “What? How’s that possible? I mean look at him, he’s doing fine up there.”

“Well, according to his education history, he hasn’t earned the requirement of having a high school degree. It is barring him from attending this school. However, he’s in the process of earning it.”

She shook her head, “Unbelievable,” I heard her mutter.

Our attention returned to the red stallion who after applying the first layer on his portrait, went around the classroom. He didn’t say much as he weaved between the rows of students until he came across a stallion that was slower compared to his other classmates. “May I ask why there’s so much white on your canvas?”

“I’m trying to make sure I don’t make mistakes,” he said.

Acrylic put his hoof on the artist’s brush to indicate to him to stop. The pony looked up to him. “I’m going to tell you a secret about painting in this style. Even if you do mess up, just remember one thing: its paint. You can always come back to cover it up. Plus, I’m not sure if you notice from my painting, but there’s not a single straight line or a perfect circle, is there? This is because of two reasons: I can’t draw a straight line to save my life. And as an Impressionist, I’ve recently come to adopt a philosophy that imperfection is perfection. So don’t worry about getting every little detail right, just try to quickly cover all of the blank spots up as you can. Don’t worry about feeling restricted, okay? This art form is about freedom, about expression. Straight lines don’t show that.”

He nodded before my coltfriend inspected the rest.

Finally, Acrylic returned to his canvas, “Now, for the next step, this is where the real fun comes in. Once we’ve put our first layer on, we’re now going to give our portraits that Impressionist signature. For this, use a small brush, we’re going to add layers on our pictures in short strokes or dots. This is the most expressive stag. For colors, think of them not only as light and shadow but also as a way of highlighting as well.”

He picked up his brush and dipped it into a darker shade of red, “Say for example I wanted to draw out the shade of my chin like so.” He then proceeded to paint his lower jaw, “Notice that I’m not doing too many strokes, but watch what happens when I added another color contrast to it.” He then dipped his brush in plum purple and applied it to the jaw. “See how it’s already making it stand out? Color is important in Impressionism because it shows the relationship of one color to another. Now you could add two or three layers of different shades of paint in one place, but every so often, use complementary colors to make the picture pop. For me, this is not only the best part, but also the hardest part because you need to find a balance between extreme passion, and control. Where you have to attack the canvas with all sorts of colors but have the restraint to not apply too much, am I making sense?”

They nodded. Taking to their canvases the pieces started to really take color. All around the room, students put on a wide spectrum of pigment on their portraits. This time, my coltfriend walked around, giving pointers for those to either get more passionate or to reel them back. All around, students started to get creative with their backgrounds from swirls to dots, and even horizontal brushstrokes that create harmony with their pictures.

Before class was over, Acrylic went up to each student, giving a few words for each. Saying things like, “I think what you have is an excellent painting, you’ve created a nice harmony between the background and foreground.” Or, “I think that the next time you do this style, try to watch for that control when you’re adding the details onto it.” Or even, “Even though this one could have used a little more passion, I do think what you got here is a really good start.”

When class was over, the students gathered up their paintings and set them aside for them to dry before they left while their teacher finished his painting.

Finally, the mare next to me went up to him, “Mr. Brush?”

He turned around, “Yes?”

She raised a hoof, “Mrs. Scholar, I was sent here by the headmaster to observe your teaching skills.” He shook her hoof in respect. “I must say, Mr. Brush, for somepony that has never taught in a classroom full of students, I think you’ve done pretty well.”

He nodded, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She flipped over to her notes, “I’ve observed that you were patient with the students; able to teach in a clear, understandable way; answered all their questions as best as you could, and were able to teach them individually.” Looking up, she added, “Mr. Pants over here has told me that you don’t even have a high school degree and that you’ve taught yourself to paint. Is this true?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Humming, Mrs. Scholar glanced through her notes again. “Overall, I do think that you’re capable of teaching future Master Classes for Canterlot University. Oh, that reminds me, I was told that you tried to apply here but you were rejected to attend classes, is that true?”

He nodded.

“I’ll tell you what,” she put her clipboard away. “I’ll put my report together for you so that you may continue to teach when the time calls for it. After all, we have more than one artist teaching in this class. So, we can always call you up when conditions are favorable. However, I will also recommend to the student-faculty to grant you an acceptance letter once you gained the education needed to attend. Besides,” she smiled, “you are quite the teacher Mr. Brush. I hope the school will see you again soon.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the classroom without saying another word.

When the door closed behind us, leaving us a moment alone, I kissed him. “Well done! That was excellent!”

He smiled, “One step closer now Fancy.” Acrylic kissed me back, “You’re really are the best pony anyone could ask for.”

“Let’s go home to celebrate,” I offered him his coat. “Today, you’ve earned it.”

Author's Note

I believe that I'm a chapter to two away from finishing this story. But before I do, I want to ask you, the reader, is there anything that you want me to cover before I finish this beast?

Chapter 34: The Story

About three years went by since the day Acrylic taught art at the university for the first time. While I could tell you about how Acrylic’s family had moved to Ponyville last summer, or that my coltfriend had received the minimum amount of education for him to go to college. I could also tell you about how he asked advice on how to use his leftover money to start a scholarship for young artists who can’t afford to go to college like himself – they’re not what I am here for.

I know I have spoken quite a good deal to you for longer than I intended to. For that, I apologize. I want to give you a good idea about what Acrylic and I are like as a couple before I finish this story of ours. But before I do, there is something that you should know about our relationship. One last, yet very important memory to share before I bring you to the present.

Last year in June, Acrylic had me wear a blindfold before we got into a taxi. He whispered the destination to the driver before we were whisked away.

“Acrylic,” I asked him, “Where are you taking me?”

“Just wait a bit,” he told me.

“I hope this won’t take long. There is a gallery that I promised tha-”

“Trust me on this,” he interrupted. “You’ll find that this is very important.”

I was curious, what could be so important for him to blindfold me to take to… wherever he’s taking me. For several minutes, the carriage stopped and went, it turned this way and that, sped up and slowed down. My ears tried to listen, my nose sniffed the air, trying to get some sort of clue as to where we were going. The road eventually got a little bumpier, which gave me a hint that we were in the lesser developed part of the city. Eventually, the taxi pulled to a halt.

“Here,” I felt my coltfriend’s hoof on my foreleg. “Follow me, I’ll help guide you.”

I really didn’t know what was going on. For a moment, I had wished that Fleur had arrived earlier so at least we would know what was happening. For the most part, I was completely in the dark of it all as I walked on three hooves over cobblestones and kicked what must be garbage laying around.

“Should I be worried?” I asked him.

He laughed, “No no, I think this will be something rather special. Uh, hold on a sec,” I heard something being kicked. “Okay, just a little bit further… Alright, you can take off the blindfold now.”

I did, after blinking a few times from the light flooding into my eyes. Putting my monocle back on, I looked around at our surroundings. On one end, there was a very tall wooden fence; while on the other was a brick wall and a yellow dumpster. The air had both pleasant and disgusting smells of food nearby. Although at first I was disgusted, there was something rather familiar about this place.

“Do you recognize it?” he asked.

Putting a hoof to my chin, I told him, “I have to say, there’s something oddly familiar about this… only I can’t seem to grasp what it is. Acrylic, where are we?”

My coltfriend went over to the wall and despite risking his clothing betting dirty, laid his back against the dumpster. “Fancy, sit with me,” so I did. “I’ve brought you here to tell you a story.”

I tilted my head, “Alright, but why here?”

He shook his head, “No. In order for this to work, I have to bring you here. This setting, although as grimy as it may be, serves an important place for me,” he coughed a little before continuing. “For this to work, I need you to be very patient with me when I tell this story. Once it’s over, you’ll know very well why doing what I do is important.”

I nodded, “Alright, I’m listening.”

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there once lived a colt that lived in a mining town. It was not a very rich town, the locals there lived off of the opals the mined from the mountains to exchange it with traders for whatever they had. Although poor, they created with whatever they had to get by, and the town was proud of that.

“In fact, that town was so proud that it started traditions and beliefs of their very own. They worshiped cats that kept away the pesky mice. They decorated their roofs with colorful ties as an appreciation of their good fortune. They valued family and success above everything else. In fact, when one found his cutie mark, he worked hard for that passion, and when that pony was successful, they were considered real adults.

“This was the world that the colt grew up in. He searched for his purpose among the strong traditions that told him what he should do and how he should act. His parents told him that in order for him to be truly happy he was to first; find something he was really good at; and also, to find a marefriend that will one day be his wife. But there were two problems with this. As the colt grew up, for one, while he did find what his passion was, nopony thought he was any good at it. The other was that no matter how hard he tried, he would have feelings towards other colts, but not fillies.

“Then, one day the colt heard the tales about a land called Equestria. A place, he heard, where somepony as poor as he was, could go over there with absolutely nothing, and come back wealthy. Where the land was paved in gold and gems as far as the eye could see. The opportunity that once closed to him in his own country, were open wide for those who are willing to work for it. It was a land free of prejudice and fear, no matter how he hated they were in his country, he could be a blank slate in that one.

“So, as the colt grew to a stallion, he sold everything he had in order to come to Equestria. He saved enough money to buy supplies to make bits off of what he loved to do, and that was to paint pictures in his own way. He spends all on canvases, brushes and a rainbow spectrum of paint. He barely had enough leftover to eat. But he didn’t care; he would make his fortune off of his art.

“Only, as he found out, no matter where he went or what he painted, nopony was interested. Not in him, nor his art. He tried very hard to find somepony... anypony, which would help him gain success. Yet, from town to town, city to city, he quickly learned that achievement was not about working hard, but getting an invitation to be successful. After all, he was lacking a proper education, he never been to an art class in his life, how was anypony going to take him, or whatever he put on those canvases seriously?

“The stallion ended up at what he thought to be his last hope, a city called Canterlot. One of the major art capitals of the world, if he couldn’t make it there,” Acrylic shook his head, “He then would know that he truly failed. With the remaining bits he had, he spent them on the cheapest housing he could find, and some art supplies. He tried desperately to paint something that would catch these wealthy ponies’ attention. Yet, to his eyes, no matter what he painted, they always seemed to have fallen apart, so he angrily threw them away.

“Eventually, he ran out of bits and he was kicked out of his apartment, seemly condemned to live the rest of his miserable life on the streets. For several days, he was hungry, cold, and very, very sad. There was no way he could go home to the old country because he found that it was completely impossible to go anywhere now.”

Looking up, he smiled at me, “Then, on this very spot, when it seemed that hope was entirely forgotten, the first of many miracles happened to the stallion. One of his art pieces caught the eye of the most influential stallion in the entire city. Only second to that of royals, he saved a painting from becoming wet with rain and searched for its maker, to which, he found him here. He told the artist that what he found was the most extraordinary thing that he’s ever seen, but the stallion didn’t believe him. He thought that the rich pony was lying to him. However, when that same wealthy stallion offered to give him a job, food and shelter, did that stallion start to really listen.

“From that day on, the rich stallion encouraged him to paint more, brightly colored pictures to his heart’s content. He painted near every day when he wasn’t working as his servant. During that time, the stallion learned that they were very much alike. That he liked stallions as well, he also learned that he hadn’t found his special somepony yet either.

“That stallion was filled with something he hadn’t felt since he arrived in Equestria. Hope. Hope that maybe, this rich pony that was kind enough to save him, he stood up for the stallion, and proved to him that his art was ingenious, that he could probably fall in love too.”

Acrylic then took both of my front hooves and continued. “Days turned to weeks, then into months, and into years. Slowly, but surely, the sad artist started to open up to him. To his shock and delight, he gave him a chance to court him. While the wealthy pony wasn’t sure at first, he too opened up to the stallion in which he would gladly call his coltfriend.

“From there, they encountered prejudice from the stallion’s own parents, journeyed to a faraway land in which they’ve gained enlightenment, and the rich pony’s father became a mediator to speak to the stallion’s parents. Although, the two of them had their trials, some that nearly destroyed the stallion’s want to live; the other always came to save him from himself. The wealthy stallion performed one miracle after another, in which whatever doors that were once locked to his coltfriend, now wide open for him to enter.”

He let go one of his hooves to reach into his pocket. “The immigrant stallion became deeply in love with his savior. Over the years he’d been with him, he dated him until one day; he knew that this was the pony he was missing in his life. He loved him so much, that he decided that he would reenact a certain ritual that he learned from his village.

“First, he went to the sea and searched for the biggest, and purest purl he could find. Then he would gather four opals that came from his village, along with three sapphires and three rubies. Once he gathered these, the stallion then went to a goldsmith who carefully crafted a ring from these items.

“Next, he would blindfold the pony who he values above anyone in the world, to take them to the very spot in which they’d first met. This pony must have no knowledge beforehoof of where they were going, nor knowing that the ritual was about to take place. The stallion could only have the other take the blindfold off once they’ve arrived if the other did before, he had to cancel the ritual.

“If the wearer didn’t take off the blindfold before they reached the spot, he then recounts a tale of their relationship while the other listens. When this is done, the stallion then recites this pledge: 'I brought you here because I will go to the ends of the universe to find such beauty. You trusted me to guide you, just as you have guided me. I recanted the story of our love, now it will last as long as the stars give their light. These pledges I give unto you so that it will be a promise etched into my heart.’ He then ends it by saying the name of his beloved: Fancy Pants,” out from his pocket, he pulled out a ring just as he described. “Will you be mine, now and for all eternity?”

I hugged him, “If I say yes, do I get to brag how sweet your proposal was to everypony?”

Tears flooded his eyes… he nodded, “You said yes… thank you so much… for performing this miracle for me. I love you, Fancy.” He cried wrapping me into a tight hug.

I smiled, “I know.”

Author's Note

This is it, one more chapter to go!

Chapter 35: Masterpiece

After months of planning, narrowing down the guest list, choosing the right setup for the ceremony and reception, the location of the honeymoon, etc… Everything is set for the big day tomorrow. Apart from my father being here tomorrow. Acrylic’s siblings are already here in Canterlot, we’ve invited our friends to come for the wedding. We’ve invited Hoity, Fleur, Lord Night Light (with his wife), Princess Luna, Golden Gavel, and Mr. Haiku’s family just to name a few.

As keeping up with tradition here in Equestria, both spouses-to-be must be kept out of sight for an entire week before the ceremony. This means that as of the time I’m recording this, it’s almost been a week since I’ve seen my fiancé. At this very moment, I honestly have no clue as to where Acrylic might be. I’ve suspended his duties of a Valet for this very purpose, and last I’ve heard of him, he’s gone down to Ponyville in preparation of the wedding with his siblings.

There’s also one more tradition that we had both agreed to follow. It is that we would exchange a meaningful gift to each other that sums up our relationship to one another. Well, that’s where these recordings come in. You see, Acrylic, I’ve been doing a recording a day here in my room, and I’m relieved that I’m able to finish this last one the night before. Perhaps one-day somepony might put everything I say into a book for our future foals that we might adopt or something to let them know how we met.

…

Now… what do I say here? After spending over a month’s worth of recordings and who knows how many thousands of words I’ve spoken into this microphone, I wonder how I would end this. What sort of thoughts do I give now, that tomorrow I’m going to be married for the first time? How do I-

(Sound of a door opening.)

“Fancy, there you are, everypony’s looking for-”

“Hoity? What are you doing here? I thought everypony’s gone.”

“Almost, but no… what’s the tape recorder for?”

“You’re interrupting!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you alone in a second. But there’s a package here for you.”

…

“What package?”

“Here, let me go get it.”

_*_

Sorry for the interruption. Now that all the other guests are gone, and I’m now certainly alone, I could finish this recording in peace. I guess I need to cut that out for the final tape.

Then again… Perhaps for once, I’ll leave it in since I have something from you. It’s a letter and a cardboard tube. It’s from Ponyville, I guess this must be the meaningful gift thing that I was talking about. Let’s see what the letter says.

(The sounds of paper being torn, followed by the rustling of paper could be heard.)

Let’s see…

Dear Fancy,

Since that we can’t exactly see each other until Wednesday, I do hope that my sending this letter to you won’t contribute to anything of that “bad luck,” stuff you’ve mentioned. It is rather frustrating that I can’t see you, being nearly a week, I’m already missing you. I do hope you’re doing alright in Canterlot, Celestia knows how busy you have been with the wedding and all. I can’t help but imagine that you must be tearing out your mane from the sheer stress of it all.

I want to let you know that I’m doing fine here in Ponyville. I’ve been staying at an Inn here since Dad isn’t exactly… ready to meet me just yet. However, he was able to talk to Mom, along with Tempera, Water, and even Oily from Lightning Falls who came to Equestria for the big day! Even though Mom still wouldn’t come to the wedding, I’m very glad that my brother and sisters are coming up with me to Canterlot. I think it would be interesting for you to meet all of my siblings.

From where I’m writing, I can see Canterlot from my window I couldn’t help but wonder what is going on with you at this very moment. Maybe you’re really are tearing out your mane, your suite in patches and everything is on fire. Call me paranoid, but being this far away from you for this long, I can’t help but let my imagination run wild at the possibilities.

But in all seriousness, I do miss you. Are you are missing me as well? I know that you’re keeping yourself busy for what’s about to happen, but do you ever think what I’m doing at this moment too? Does the bed you lay on at night seem empty as well? I have.

Now before I go any further, I have a confession to make. For a long time, I couldn’t think of the perfect gift for you. Now, I did suspect that you were doing something behind closed doors for a month, but I still have no clue as to what you’re doing. Perhaps making that gift that I myself hadn’t got around to, that was until I came here to Ponyville was when I hit upon an idea.

Since I imagine how lonely you must be up there in that city on the mountainside, I want to give you something to make you feel a little less lonely before our wedding. Something with great meaning and it was then; I realized that there is something I could do. Or rather, something that I’ve begun years ago, but never gotten around to finishing.

Fancy, if everything goes right, attached to this letter should be a tube that has a very special painting inside. Do you remember years ago when I got so depressed that I nearly jumped off the side of a building? In particular, do you recall finding a canvas on my bed that I never finished? While it has taken me a while to get my hooves on it once more, I am glad to say that not only is it finished, but I consider it to be my masterpiece. In fact, I was able to paint you from memory.

With the thought that I’m going to marry the very stallion in that painting… words can’t describe how much joy it is for me that something like this is going to happen. Never again will I be alone. Never will the whipping stick of tradition I was raised by holding me back from you. I’m about to marry happiness in the flesh, who goes by the name of Fancy Pants.

I hope to see you soon.

With love,

-Acrylic.

Awe… Acrylic, that’s so thoughtful of you. Here, let me see your masterpiece.

…

Oh… Oh wow… This is all from memory? I do recognize the painting alright. It is the unfinished double portrait of us from all those years ago but… it’s complete, but it’s changed a little.

The only thing that’s still the same is that Acrylic in the portrait is colored with earthy reds and browns on his coat, while his mane has quick strokes of ghostly white, gray and yellow. The eyes are the same, deep yellow.

The rest, however, it’s completely changed. The background doesn’t have the starry night, but instead, it’s an outsider’s view of my balcony. With the railings, the open window, and the interior of the bedroom! This is… really detailed, even for you. Sure, it’s still in your Impressionistic style, but I can clearly see the phonograph, the pattern on the blanket on the bed, the desk, the mirror, and even the doors to the closet and bathroom.

But for me… Acrylic, you’re incredible. You really did get everything right, from the different shading of color on my coat and suit to using really light purple to contrast with the blue. Strokes of very dark crimson against the black as shading. And… oh… you added something too. Our engagement bands, one on my horn and the other on your hoof… I didn’t notice that until now.

You know what? I think I know how to end this recording.

Acrylic. You’re right, this is a really, really good painting you’ve given me. It’s not only colorful, as usual, but it is very thoughtful too. This by far is the best picture you’ve ever worked on, and the fact that it’s meant for me is heartwarming. What you’ve given me is priceless beyond comprehension for knowing how much I’ve seen you grow. I am deeply humbled, honored, and grateful that I have such a rare kind of pony like you that by tomorrow I will be calling you, my husband.

Perhaps, one day, I ought to be the one to write my recordings of our story down. Give it some pictures and letters too for prosperity to look back on. You have been on quite a journey to this point in your life Acrylic. Gone from, what you saw as a nopony who was far away from home, to becoming a great genius that I have come to know and love. Words cannot describe how fortunate we are that we get to fulfill something that we both didn’t think was possible.

I guess one of the ways I could end this is by giving you a quote from one of your idols: Vineigh van Gogh. It comes from a letter to his brother that, I think brings out who you are in a nutshell. “Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.”

I miss you too Acrylic, even your paintings couldn’t compare to your company here with me. But I will wait for you. We have a new chapter in our lives that for better or for worse, we will write it out together. Good-night, my love. I will be seeing you at the wedding tomorrow.

Author's Note

The End.

:rainbowderp: It's finished. After several months, it's finally done! I mean just... wow. That's all I can say about writing this. It's by far the longest fic to date. And considering all the other stuff I've done in the past, that says a lot.

So, now I turn to you, what did you think of it?

Chapter 1: Treasure in a Garbage Can

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”
– Albert Einstein.

In a busy place like Canterlot, it is quite refreshing to take a moment to slow down once every so often. While it is true that the capital of Equestria has no shortage of political uproar, elite scandals, fortunes and reputations rise and fall, that you could sense the heat of frustration from other ponies from a block away, this I won’t deny. However, as exciting at this city can be with all the ponies coming and going, there’s something rather tranquil about the city itself when the heavens open up with rain.

For it is this kind of weather, on my way home towards dinner in a cab with my bodyguard is where I found myself in. I already asked our driver to take his time so I could enjoy the sound and smell of rain all around us.

“How are you now Mr. Pants?” Fleur asked me, “Being such a stressful day with Creaser and all.”

I waved a hoof, “Let’s not talk about that now, what matters is that it’s settled and I’m looking forward to a hot meal before going to bed. Although Fleur de Lis, I do apologize for not having enough energy to have some small talk all day.”

“To begin with, you are safe sir, so at least I know I’m doing my job properly.” She smiled, “You know, I think you’ve been working yourself a little too hard this past month. Don’t get me wrong Fancy, I completely understand being a patron to so many has taken up much of your time, but do you think that sooner or later you should earn yourself some time off?”

“Why?” I raised an eyebrow, “Is somepony wanted me assassinated again?”

This got a laugh out of her, “No sir, I mean that everypony deserves a break from work every now and again. It wouldn’t hurt much to spend some time at a place like say… Manehattan or Applewood or someplace that doesn’t involve ponies begging you to put in a good word for their art at every moment you are alone.”

“If I was mentally exhausted, then I would probably take a listen to what you have to say. But the thing is I’m not quite there yet. Although I do agree that I ought to slow down a bit, maybe go see father when I get the chance.”

“That reminds me, have you heard how he is now?”

I nodded, “I’ve got a letter from him yesterday, and what do you think he’s asking of me?”

It didn’t take long for her to think about it, “How come you haven’t settled down with anypony?”

“My my, you really have caught up with me, have you?”

“Again, it is my job to know who I’m guarding, being an ex-Solar Guard and all.”

I sighed, “At least I can be thankful that he’s finally come around to my sexuality at last. But for the time being, I just don’t really see anypony I want to… you know, be with.”

“I understand,” Fleur nodded, “being Pansexual does leave you open to so many options, that I can see. Plus, I’m not exactly sure that on the male side of the spectrum of anypony in Canterlot that might fit into your criteria, so to speak.”

“Indeed, even fewer still if you consider who is single too. Of course, on the female side, it’s just as tricky when you have to be sure who isn’t a gold digger. Besides, I already know how you feel about me Fleur, that you see me as both a friend and your employer.”

“You know me so well Fancy,” she commented. “To be honest, I actually agree with your father.”

“What?”

“Hear me out, I think that you’re getting to that age when you need a solid relationship with somepony. Now I’m not saying that you should purpose to the first pony you see, but what I am saying is that I think you deserve to have someone that you could form a much deeper connection with. Not to mention to secure your wealth for the future since the servants still look to you for employment.”

Sighing, I told her, “I know, I know. You’re just repeating the reasons why my father wants me to marry in the upcoming years ahead. But the trouble of that is, with whom in particular? For one, it has to be with someone who can handle having such a stable relationship with; Celestia knows that Hoity doesn’t quite fit the bill.”

Fleur laughed again, “Tell me about it, I swear that he goes through coltfriends as quickly as one does with newspapers.”

“As much as I like him, I don’t think it would really work between us. Let’s see… there’s that new mare that’s becoming popular, what’s her name? Coco? You know who I’m talking about, right?” She said that she believes she does. “As much of a character she is, I think she’s a touch too young for my teases.”

My bodyguard rolled her eyes, “Fancy Pants, really? How do you know if somepony like her isn’t fit for you if you never tried to ask her or anyone else at least once? Who knows, perhaps you’ll find your future spouse from someplace unexpected?”

I shrugged, “If only I-” but before I could have my say, I was cut short with a sudden, frustrated, metallic bang! We both looked to see where that noise had come from, which didn’t take long to locate that it was from a metal trashcan. There on top, leaning up against the other piles of garbage, being lit up by the light of a lamppost was painting on canvas.

“WHY CAN’T I GET IT RIGHT!” a scream from the upper apartments shouted. I looked up at where the voice came from before catching sight of a window being slammed shut. Judging from the neighborhood, we were in the less economic side of Canterlot giving its condition of the place. But my eyes fell upon the painting that was thrown out that given me a sense of curiosity.

“Driver, stop for a moment,” I called out, and our carriage immediately came to a halt in the empty street.

Getting out, I heard Fleur asked, “Fancy, what’s wrong?”

“Probably nothing, I just want to see something real quick,” I said as I rushed over to the garbage bin to quickly pick up the canvas in my aura before dashing back into the cab. Now out of the rain, both I and Fleur got a good look at what was thrown out.

The painting itself was completely done entirely out of acrylics. Yet, I could tell it was the kind that one would use to paint walls with. However, this picture of the sun that hung over the horizon of the sea. I could immediately tell that it was in a Post-Impressionist style by the thick and quick brushstrokes in the variety of colors. The sea was crisscross in shades of dark blue, violet, sapphire blue, and white – while the sky was background in emerald green, dark blue with light blue that flowed with the sun. Rays that spread out from the white center like a flower of brick red, pink, copper and blazing yellow while frantic white brushstrokes of clouds drift in the air while right underneath the sun, the sea reflects its rays within the water.

“My word,” I whispered, for a flat canvas, there was so much depth within the swirling, rotating colors of the intense sun that it’s rather hard not to keep one’s eyes off of.

“Why would somepony throw this away?” Fleur wondered. “It looks like something that Van Go would paint.”

“Uh, sir?” our driver asked, “Should I keep going or…?”

“Oh,” I said, “Do continue,” with that we were moving once more. “Whoever it is, this pony has talent. I mean, this is good… very good.”

“Still,” my bodyguard asked, “why would the artist throw this into the garbage can? It looks like it belongs on the wall of a museum than anywhere else.”

“I have to agree,” I looked over my shoulder to the apartment in with this painting had fallen, “Who would indeed?”

Chapter 10: Crucible on the Eighth Floor.

Everypony has fears, even grownup stallions like me have a few. I confess that one of those said fears happen to involve heights without any railing or anything to prevent me from falling. The reason I’m bringing this us is that by the time we got on the floor where Acrylic was, the Canterlot Police Department has said that they already tried to have him talk to a negotiator only to come up with nothing. So, after a discussion of what to do, it was concluded that if there’s anypony in Equestria that the Artist might talk to, it would be me.

Fleur de Lis had already tied a rope around my waist in the event that I might slip at least I would be pulled back. At the moment, I’m climbing out of a window onto a stone ledge where Mr. Brush is sitting. Luckily there’s enough space to walk on, but I had my entire body pressed up against the wall of the hotel, try to look at my hooves and not at the… long… steep… rail-less edge of the street.

“Fancy?” I stopped, looking up at him. He was wiping tears away from his eyes furiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Funny enough, I was going to ask you th-”

“Stop!” Acrylic cried. “Just, leave me alone! You’ve already done enough as it is.”

“Well,” I looked down at my shaking hooves, “Could I at least sit down right here?”

He looked back at the vertigo street below, waving a hoof.

Gradually, I shifted my legs around until I sat on my hunches but kept my hooves away from the open air. “Acrylic, why are you up here for?”

“What does it look like,” he said grimly, “I’m gonna jump.”

“But that I don’t understand. Why would you do that for?”

He looked up at me, giving an offended laugh, “Really? You haven’t figured it out by now?”

“Not really,” I confessed.

“Mr. Pants, just… just go away.” I saw his ears flatten against his head, “I know you will.”

“I don’t think that would be possible for me at the moment.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“Mr. Brush, did I ever tell you that I have a phobia of being at a really, really, really high place where nothing to prevent me from falling as it is?”

“You mean you’re scared of heights?” I nodded my head. “Sweet Luna you’re weird.”

“Now, Acrylic, let’s try to stay on topic, what drove you to come up here to… end yourself?” He didn’t answer, “If I dare ask, are you infatuated with me?”

His eyes widened, “H-How did-”

“From the last painting you’ve left behind, I think it looks like I’ve offended you without realizing it.”

He shook his head, “No… No Mr. Pants, you didn’t do anything. It has nothing to do with you, sir… It’s me. Yes, it’s true that I… like you in a way. But I know you have your eye on somepony else.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“When we were in Ponyville, and how that mare… what’s her name?”

I blinked, “You mean Rarity?”

“Yeah, when she described on how you two have met and how the both of you had such a wonderful time in Canterlot… What would be the point?”

“I do believe you’re mistaken, Rarity isn’t my marefriend at all. She’s my business partner in which I’m also assisting her to open a shop here. I’m the one helping with the advertisement on her clothing.”

“It didn’t look like it to me,” he leans forward a bit, putting his forehooves on both sides of his head. “Besides, even if I let you know earlier, how would I know if you would ever, well, return what I feel? I mean, why would you? You’re the stallion that has everything: Wealth; respectability; a fine home; a father that encourages and guides you; lived in a society where you can be whatever you want, be with whom you want; and you have ponies from all over wanting to see you. Fancy… I have none of that. No talent… no wealth… or respectability… or a family that will understand… no friends… no past… no present… no future,” I then saw tears come running down his face. “After I jump off, I will enter into a true death. One in which in five years, nopony would know my last name, another five, nopony would know my first, and another five… nopony would know that I existed at all. I’ll be forgotten, while you will be remembered. I can never give you any of the things you have now nor hope to. I’m just a stupid, talentless, stallion-stuffing hoofcolt that’s better off as a splattered thing on the sidewalk then one that works in your home. I can’t have happiness… I don’t deserve any of it.”

I decided to scooch closer, “How do you know?”

“Are you blind!” he snapped at me, “You pretty much lied to me each time I made those crappy paintings! ‘Oh it’s not that bad,’ ‘I think it’s really good,’ ‘Ingenious use of that orange,’ why not you just tell me that they’re bad? I know they’re bad, I know I can’t paint, and yet, you have me do one each day, and for what! So you could have your spoiled friends come by and laugh at them?”

“Because I’m telling the truth you don’t want to hear,” I replied. “The truth is you are a fantastic artist, one of the best living painters out there that I know. Acrylic, if you jump now, you’d be robbing from the art community that world of yours that hasn’t been seen since the days of van Gogh and Moneigh. I promise you that there are ponies out there that would love to have even one of your pieces hanging in their homes.”

“Stop it! Just stop!” he boxed his ears, “Stop telling me lies! My parents know that I can’t paint; my so-called friends know I can’t even draw! And those ponies back in that restaurant were right; the best I could expect out of life is to be a disposable hoofcolt, faceless, voiceless, and nameless as far as anypony is concerned.”

“Well, before you do anything rash,” I scooched a little closer, “I want to apologize for something that I want you to hear. First of all, I’m sorry that I didn’t see this earlier. I ought to have known that this depression of yours is serious; I should have taken better care of you. I’m sorry that you have been unfairly been ignored for the talents you possess.” His ears perked up so I scooched closer, “I’m sorry that I haven’t taken any serious consideration of how you feel about not just life, but for me also. Acrylic Brush, everypony deserves to be happy, including you with or without that so-called curse of yours. And above all, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I saw the beauty underneath, and didn’t express that to you clearly.”

He sniffed, “Really?”

“It’s the honest truth,” I scooched closer. “Even if you never had any interest to paint, I do admire you. You’re a hard worker, passionate in your art, honest to me and to those who I cannot afford, to be honest with. You have a wisdom that you take for granted. Humor that is down-to-earth, and you’re the only stallion that I’ve met that isn’t interested in me for my money or status.”

“Fancy, what are you trying to say?”

I scooched closer, I’m about a foreleg’s stretch away, “Well, if you wish that the day after tomorrow, perhaps we could have a nice, quiet lunch by the Sunlight Falls?”

He only stared at me, “Are you… are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

“A date,” I shrugged, “I’ve got nothing better to do on that day.”

Mr. Brush looked at me for a moment before saying, “You must be crazy! Either you’ve completely lost your mind or you’re crazy! No, I take that back, you must be crazy!”

“But I’m really am giving you that chance to express what you feel about me.”

“Oh stop talking nonsense,” he put his hooves in the sides of his head. “I’m just a poor hoofcolt.”

I nodded, “Yes that is quite true. But as I’ve said, even a poor hoofcolt and a brilliant artist are entitled to some happiness.” I smiled, “Besides, as the younger generation might put it, what better way to troll all those uptight ponies then to go out with you?”

He sat there looking between me and the street, “But you don’t really feel the same way back… do you?”

“I didn’t ask if you would be my coltfriend, rather I’m asking you out to see if you might become my coltfriend. Now, I know you can’t be everything I wanted and vice-versa, but we don’t need to be. If all does go well, just needing what we really are would be enough. If not, I hope we can be drawn closer as friends, and I promise that if we don’t work out, I’ll be willing to find a charming stallion that is better than me.”

“Are we seriously having this conversation right when I’m about to jump?”

I chuckled, “At least it took your mind off it, didn’t I?”

For a moment he didn’t reply, “Still won’t excuse about my horrible art.”

“Here,” I leaned back against the wall, reaching into my breast coat pocket. “I meant to show you these tomorrow morning. But I think you’d need to see them.” I pulled out the tickets, “Remember when you said that you needed an invitation to become successful? Well, Mr. Brush here’s that invitation.”

I levitated a ticket over to him in which he snatched it into his hoof, “‘The Last Impressionist?’ How is this supposed to help cheer me up?”

“Every so often, I would organize an exhibition to premiere new works of art to the public. But more importantly, the Canterlot elite is coming tomorrow. These include celebrities, the movers and shakers, as well as some of the Royal Family tends to drop in every now and again. That ticket there is the very key to your future of having a career as more than a hoofcolt. You will get the chance to rub shoulders against those who are collecting artwork themselves. So if you painted right there on the spot, I guarantee that you’ll get the attention that you rightfully deserve. All you have to do is go.”

He studied the white ticket for a full minute, “But… what if nopony likes what I paint?”

“Please trust me on this, they will. This gallery I’m hosting is about Modern Impressionism, and ponies that buy these tickets only go to see the art that will be there. You’ll fit right in perfectly. Not to mention that they’ll be interested in a masterpiece in progress.”

“What did I ever do to deserve your kindness Mr. Pants?”

I smiled, “Because you needed it. Now come on,” I offered my hoof out to him, “Let’s get off this ledge before one of us falls off.”

Acrylic looked at my hoof, “But you’re not serious about that… date bit, aren’t ya?”

“I never make promises that I know I can’t keep, but this one I’d be glad to uphold. Now please, take my hoof.”

For the longest minute, the red stallion didn’t move, glancing at me, as if internally interrogate me to find some kind of falsehood in my gesture. “If I do,” he said, “can you promise me to not abandon me when I need your help?”

“You have my word.” To my relief, he took my hoof. “Oh good, now let’s get ourselves out of here.” We started getting up, slowly making our way to the window I came out in. “I say, Mr. Brush, how you got all the way up here, to begin with?”

“When you’re the invisible stallion, you’ll be amazed by all the places you could go without getting noticed.”

“Are you saying that you’ve just walked right through the lobby and up the elevator without raising any suspicion?”

“Even when I sat down over there, nopony bothered to look up for a good five minutes.”

“Are you pulling my tail?”

“Do I even sound like I’m joking?”

“No no, but I’m rather shocked at it.”

We made it to the window in which I hopped in and Acrylic was pulled right in.

“Sir, are you alright?” my butler asked once we were in the hallway.

“Yes, a little shaken, but alright.” I turned to my bodyguard, “Fleur, Gustav, would you kindly escort Mr. Brush back home and give him the day off?”

“Very good sir,” Gustav said before I leaned over into his ear and whispered.

“Be sure to have somepony keep an eye on him. I’ve gotten him off the edge, but just have someone check on him.”

He nodded, “Will that be all?”

This time I turned to the Artist, “Acrylic, how would you like if you dine with me for dinner this time?”