On a late winter night, Sour Sweet rested on her bed, wearing nothing more than a thin blue nightgown as she wished to force herself to sleep, staring at the ceiling. She sighed deeply, then lazily tilted her head to look at the cellphone laying next to her, her face flat and brimming with apathy. A small dark circle at the top of the device where a dim LED would flash to indicate a new notification--provided she had one--remained black. Her eyes stayed locked on the dark spot for a length of time far greater than the interval in which the light should flash, but she still hoped for the small blinking light to appear. Several excruciatingly long seconds ticked by, but the light never flashed, and Sour finally looked away, her eyes once again plastered to the dull ceiling above her, which offered no more entertainment than the depressingly dim hole at the top of her phone. At least this way she wouldn't strain her neck, she thought.
As her eyes wandered the seemingly infinite labyrinth created by the rough paint texture on the ceiling, she involuntarily formed shapes and images. A flower appeared, and next to that a star. Then a towering forest aside a humble cottage. The once dull plain ceiling was suddenly a vibrant world of magic and wonder, and Sour Sweet smiled. She wondered how it was possible that she had never noticed these brilliant patters before, but as her thoughts continued, the shape of a viscous skull appeared! And with it a pair of massive fangs, dripping with venom. Scary! she cried out internally.
She turned her head back to the unlit hole at the top of her device and decided that the ceiling was no place for creative eyes. Instead she'd focus her attention on her phone: The device that revolutionized global communication, seamlessly interconnecting billions of people and allowing them to share their entire lives at the tap of a screen was in everyone's pocket, or hands, she thought. And not one of them was willing to even send a simple hello her way? On a day like this, no less. Valentine's Day, of all days, was the day that everyone she knew had chosen to leave her hopelessly alone so that they could pursue their own interests. Their own interests!
Sour Sweet groaned and smacked her fist against her bed. Even her closest friend, possibly her only 'true' friend, couldn't even be bothered to spend this day with her. Sugarcoat is of course not one to offer any level of significance to these sorts of Greeting Card Company Holidays, as she calls them, but that doesn't mean there isn't some level of sentimental value that can be redeemed by spending the day with your friend, especially the day that has been dedicated to love.
Is there? She wondered.
But that wasn't the point! She found the flame of anger once again and tightened her fists. When she heard Sugarcoat say that she wasn't interested in spending Valentine's Day with her because she planned to visit home for the week, and couldn't possibly care about such a stupid day, Sour imploded. There was no "I'm sorry." No "I wish I could be there with you." Nothing of the sort! Nothing to, well, sugarcoat the sting of her cold and blunt words. Clearly straightforwardness is her way, but couldn't she see the inner pain her dearest friend was so desperately struggling to keep hidden? In retrospect, maybe hiding her feelings wasn't the best course of action, at least not entirely.
No, even in her absence Sugarcoat is pinning this on Sour. That's unacceptable! She's solely responsible for this situation, the situation which Sour Sweet was forced to bear alone, not by her own actions, but by the actions of another. At the very least, she reiterated in her mind, Sugarcoat could have eased the loneliness by offering her condolences, and by understanding that not everyone feels the same way she does. They say actions speak louder than words, but what they don't mention is the diminishing power words can have on negative actions when used correctly. And Sugarcoat had no shortage of words at her disposal, her vocabulary rivaling even the largest thesauruses. Or was it thesauri? Sour pondered. Bah! Another situation in which Sugarcoat's plethora of words, or word-knowledge, would come in handy. Yet, as Sour was already painfully aware, Sugarcoat wasn't here right now, and she wouldn't be back for a long, long, long time.
BZZZT BZZZT
The sound of buzzing startled Sour and her eyes shot open. Ah yes, the sweet sound of modern human contact, she thought. And sure enough, there it was! The light emitting diode at the top of her phone shone with divine brilliance, like a beacon of hope flashing blue pulses of bliss that cut through the darkness of loneliness. Without a moment to lose, she snatched up the device and unlocked her screen. Her bright smile was short lived, however, as she realized just who had sent the message. Coupled with the message's unsettling details, Sour Sweet suddenly had a sour stomach.
Lemon Zest: hey dude. im bringin home a chick 2nite so if ur not cool with that then u should probably hang out somewhere else for a few hours. cya
Bringing home a chick? Sour shook her head and collapsed backwards onto her bed. She had nowhere else to be, nowhere else to go. Nowhere to escape this impending awkward encounter with her roommate and "a chick." She did say "if you're not cool with it, then to leave," which isn't intrinsically a request for her to leave. Suppose she was cool with it, did that mean it was alright to stay? She should just be quiet, she supposed. Then again, the dorm room she shared was rather small. Simply two beds on opposite sides of the room, each with a small recessed corner and a personal sink. Not much room to stay out of sight and out of mind. Perhaps then, the two would be too invested in one another's company to notice Sour sitting there... Alone. Pathetic. Sulking. Her dismal emotions only exasperated by the passionate display of affection that was sure to come, one that she would most definitely be longingly staring at against her better judgement.
Sour covered her face with both hands and groaned quite loudly to express her building frustrations. Could this night get any worse? she asked herself. And just then, as if a meddling god of mischief had set its sights on her, her phone flashed low battery, and she instantly recalled letting Sugarcoat borrow her one and only phone charger, which was now likely locked away in her friend's roommateless room. Could. This. Day. Get. Any...
She chose not to tempt fate yet again.
Perhaps Lemon Zest will return sooner than later, and perhaps she'll have a charger available to borrow. Or perhaps there's already one here, Sour considered. She unlocked her phone screen and sent out a text message asking her roommate if she had an extra she could borrow somewhere in the room. It didn't take long to get a response, and despite the order of the night's events thus far, she received good news.
Lemon Zest: Sure man. Check my backpack.
Check the backpack, she thought aloud. Music to her ears. She stood off of her bed and promptly made her way to her friend's backpack, where she unzipped it and rifled through the clutter. Many auxiliary cords and earbud headphones tangled themselves up around the singularly larger cord she sought, but with a series of gentle tugs and pulls, and finally a stern yank, Sour was able to free it at last. She headed back to her side of the room and plugged the power adapter into the wall beneath her nightstand, then went to connect the micro USB to the receiving end of her phone.
Wait... Micro USB? This isn't right at all, but unfortunately Sour had no way of realizing that information just yet. She mushed the rectangular protrusion at the end of the charging cable against the slightly differently shaped rectangular receptacle of her phone to no avail. She turned and tilted it, fidgeting with the device, then it hit her. Oh how foolish she felt. She must have looked like a toddler trying with all of its might to force a triangle shaped block into a circular shaped opening. She dropped the cord to the floor, defeated and hopeless. Her phone would die soon, her one connection to the outside world, her only connection to Sugarcoat, would soon be nothing but a six-hundred dollar paperweight. At least until it could receive a proper charge, that is. Why couldn't every major cellphone producer use a universal charging cable? Perhaps this was her fault for choosing the only one that didn't. She'd never admit that.
She considered her laptop, but decided it would be useless. Crystal Prep Academy's WiFi blocked all forms of social media, and she wasn't sure how to bypass any of it. What's a proxy server? she wondered for the umpteenth time. She knew perfectly well that it didn't matter at this point. Were Sugarcoat to contact her, it would undoubtedly be via text message, and in rare cases, via phone call. Both options were strikingly limited at the moment, her phone's battery dipping closer and closer to its looming death by the second.
And there it was, what was sure to be the harbinger of her worst feelings yet. Uncontrollable giggling and chirping grew louder and louder as a young couple approached the door. Sour Sweet quickly switched off her lamp, then covered herself beneath her pink sheet and turned away, pretending to be asleep at the sound of the doorknob turning.
"Oh, shh, she's asleep," an unfamiliar voice whispered. Sour cringed and stared at the wall, hoping that would be that and they'd leave. No luck.
"Nah, she's cool and doesn't care," a much more familiar voice stated, and Sour wished to contradict her, but instead remained silent and motionless.
Oh Lemon Zest, you oblivious, carefree thing. Can't you see that your roommate, your friend, is in pain? Perhaps not. And who could blame her for being much more concerned with the beautifully spunky blue-haired girl who incessantly kissed her neck. Sour Sweet certainly couldn't, as she tentatively peeked over to see exactly who this mystery girl was. With vivid blue hair, bright pink leggings, and giant sunglasses being worn indoors, she recognized her as Vinyl Scratch from Canterlot High. What was she doing here? Sour wondered.
Did it really matter? No, she told herself. Lemon Zest, no matter how bullheaded, was her friend too, and she was happy that at least one member of this dorm room was having a good night. Suddenly it seemed that those two were having more than just a good night, it was becoming another kind of night. Sour pulled the sheet up over her nose, her eyes carefully peeking out as she watched Vinyl undressing Lemon. Their tops came off, shoes kicked across the room, socks unrolled, bras popped open, panties shimmied loose, sunglasses... remained on?
Was this voyeurism? Sour wondered as a sense of excitement stirred within her. A tangled mess of white and pink limbs rolling around on the bed reminded her of the unkempt headphones in the backpack. As the two settled, their movement changed. Lemon lay on her back, legs spread as she was straddled by her partner, whose hands wandered without shame to whichever area they so happened to choose. Breathy giggles filled the room, and Sour winced as she bit down on the sheet.
She shouldn't be feeling this way, she told herself. I'm angry! I'm so upset about being abandoned on this day... that should be us! It should be... me, over there with her... with the strange new girl. With... no! I just mean that I should be the one this is happening to, by Sugarcoat, or both of us, I mean to say, all four of us should be able to experience this together. Not at the same time, of course. Well, not to say that it'd have to be off the table, not necessarily. Wait of course it's off the table! Where are these perverted thoughts coming from?! she demanded from herself.
No matter how hard she tried make sense of all these thoughts, her mind ran in circles. Soon she stopped attempting to make sense of anything at all. Her primal urges overwhelmed her logical thinking, and a hand of her own embarked an adventure of its own. Her fingers found their way beneath her nightgown, where they discovered her pastel pink panties. Her eyes remained locked on the targets as she slipped her hand between her legs and the pad of her middle finger massaged herself most tenderly.
Is this wrong? she asked herself, her eyes scanning carefully over Lemon's legs, which were now wrapped around a mess of bright blue hair. Her eyes trailed down the length of Vinyl's body, where her bare butt provocatively waved from side to side while she performed what could only be described as grand master-tier cunnilingus considering the sounds she was coaxing from Lemon. Sour's face was burning red as she continued performing what she chose to describe as expert-level jingle jangling on herself. Did it makes sense? No, but that mattered little to the likes of her.
As her stomach tightened, she noticed the large music note tattooed on Vinyl's hip, then spotted the series of smaller ones trailing up the length of her waist and side. So edgy, she thought. So bold, and daring. I should get a tattoo, she told herself, her finger never slowing down. Then, something she hand't expected happened.
"I'm cumming!" Lemon shouted as she lifted her legs and pressed her feet against Vinyl's back.
The words were enough to send Sour over the edge herself. She squeaked out loud and convulsed as intense bursts of pleasure struck her like lightning. A moment past before her fleeting pleasure was replaced by crippling embarrassment.
"Are you watching us?" Lemon asked, out of breath while Vinyl wiped the slimy mixture of Lemon and saliva from her lips.
"Sorta?" Sour Sweet tentatively answered, her legs trembling. "It's not like I have much of a choice with you screaming over there! Mind biting a pillow or something?" She retorted.
"Yeesh, it's fine, dude. I don't care." Lemon brushed the messy green hair from her face and nodded towards Vinyl, who flashed a shiny smile at Sour and held up her thumb. "Yeah we don't care. Wanna keep watching?"
Sour Sweet furrowed her brow and quickly rolled away to face the wall. "No!" she shouted. "Please just pretend I'm not here!"
Vinyl simply shrugged and returned to what she treated like the most delicious sundae she had ever tasted, but was wasn't allowed to use her hands to eat. Lemon was instantly overwhelmed and Sour's antics seemed like a distant memory. "W-when is it gonna be y-your turn?" she stammered.
Sour suddenly felt very sleepy, which she attributed to her masturbation session. With a wide yawn she checked her phone one last time and saw no new messages, her battery teetering on the one-percent line. She sat it down next to her pillow and closed her eyes, knowing all too well that the sooner she was able to drift off into the depths of slumber, then the sooner this dreary night would be over and done with, its embarrassments and all.
The growing intensity of her roommate's sexual encounter produced sounds that permeated their way into Sour's drowsy thoughts as reality blended with looming dreams. An image of Sugarcoat appeared through her mind's eye, and she saw her running as fast as she could with the widest, happiest smile she'd ever seen. Sugarcoat picked up her pace, running towards Sour who seemingly drifted away from her, always just out of her reach as she stretched her arm outwards. Come to me! Sour called out. I'm coming! I'm coming! Sugarcoat answered, clearly out of breath as she ran through the snowy woods. Shlick shlick shluck shluck went the sound of her shoes hitting the slushy snow beneath as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Ah, ahhh, ahhh, ahhh! Sugarcoat panted as she ran with an innocent smile plastered across her face, all the while beautiful sunlight gleamed overhead to melt the winter away.
Before long Sugarcoat reached an old rickety wooden gate, and she pressed on it repeatedly. Cree cree cree, squeaked the gate as it wouldn't budge open. Harder! Do it faster! Don't stop! Oh my god, right there, please don't stop! a voice cried out, and Sugarcoat obeyed. She pushed on the gate, harder and harder, faster and faster. It creaked and squeaked in lesser and lesser intervals, strikingly similar to the sound of a mattress on which some lucky girl is being--
"Oh fuck yes baby! I love the way you feel inside of me, holy crap... those fingers are magical!" Sour no longer understood what was happening, or why Sugarcoat was saying such things, but she paid little mind as the tendrils of slumber pulled her ever deeper into the peaceful abyss, leaving behind any lucidity she had experienced.
What a beautiful dream. A beautiful dream indeed.
<3
