Am I Confused?

“Synary… Blossom… Synary… Blossom…”

“What are you doing?” Gem asked me, annoyed.

“Trying to choose,” I replied simply, voice monotone, and I heard her scoff.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me,” I replied, still not looking up from the couch.

“You came into the living room just to say their names out loud over and over?”

“No. I came in here to say their names out loud over and over to you,” I specified, and glancing down I saw her look at me with an arched brow. “You said you’d help me.”

“I thought you just wanted somepony to talk at your ills.”

“That’s what I am doing, aren’t I? But if you want to actually help, help me decide what to do here,” I said, I pushed back against the arm of the chair, leaning up to look at her scrunched up expression.

“Well, I suppose,” she shrugged, curling her lip. “What can I do?”

“Help me decide which pony I should choose.”

“I can’t help you with something like that!” She exclaimed, looking at me with a sneer. “It’s immoral. Do you know how many mares have been subjugated to this shit?”

“…One of them is a colt,” I said meekly, and she smirked.

“Wow,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her hooves, “you’re a real paragon of virtue aren’t you?”

“I know, I know!” I rubbed my hooves into my eyes, keeping over. “I’m a horrible pony, but please help.”

She exhaled. “Fine. I’ll get a piece of paper and a pencil. Maybe some highlighters.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t a hypocrite,” she gave me a sideward glance, walking by me with a small grin.

A few minutes passed and she came back in with a pad of paper on her back, and a pencil between her teeth, spitting out and placing the pad on the coffee table; moving my hind hooves and taking a seat beside me. Before I could speak she had set to work, creating a simple double column table, with two words written at the top of each column.

“Filly and colt?” I said as she placed the table on my side of the table, looking at me with a shrug.

“Let’s get it down to the basic components. Maybe you prefer the sum of one’s parts over the other, right?”

“Hmm, okay, I can see that,” I replied, nodding and leaning down, taking the end of the pencil in my mouth.

Let’s see… well, Blossom is cute… well, so is Synary. I suppose they both get a point for that. Synary is kind… so is Blossom. Ok, I am fast seeing a problem. Let’s get the last similarity out of the way: They’re both hot. Ok, differences, differences… Synary has a penis, and Blossom a vagina.

“Ew,” Gem stated simply, causing me to look her sideways. “Also, your hoof writing is terrible.”

“Why do they call it hoofwriting if it’s done with mouths, Gem!” I spat the pencil onto the pad, the end lathered in saliva.

“Ew.”

“You know what,” I leant down, grapping the end with my teeth, bringing it back down to the pad. “Screw it,” I spoke around the pencil, scribbling out the words I wrote, punctuating with ‘screw it’ written at the bottom of the page, the dot above the ‘I’ a frowning face. “Writing it down lessens the whole thing anyway.”

“So how do you propose to choose?” She asked, and I sighed.

“They’re both wonderful. If I could have it my way, I would have them both,” I replied honestly, sniffing. “But that isn’t fair, is it…”

“On who?”

“Both of them. The fact I’m having this conversation is already spitting on the kindness they gave me,” I deflated, eyes downcast. “I… I can’t have either, can I?”

“That’s up to you, Silver,” she replied, and I felt solemn, and that my head and will had been stretched out and trodden upon.

“I care for them both, like I said before. And I don’t want to hurt either of them… but if I stay with them both, in secret, and then they both find out… I can barely live with it now,” I said, and I felt my jaw quiver.

“Brother mine,” Gem said softly, and I felt a hoof wrap around me with an affectionate tightness, “it’s okay.”

“You shouldn’t feel any kind of sympathy for me,” I said, leaning my head on her shoulder, “this is a genuinely horrible thing.”

“Silver, you’re young, and you’re new to your heart being in two places at once,” she explained, and I nearly shied away from her nuzzle atop my head. “So don’t hold it against yourself too harshly for your mistake, brother.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling a tad less horrible, but my guild still weighed a ton on my conscience. “I’ve never broken up with anypony before… and I have to do it twice.”

“Or once…”

My uniform felt unusually tight. My tie almost felt as though it was strangling me, and the building felt several degrees above comfortable. I gained a case of acute paranoia, and even as the students maintained a steadfast look ahead, I couldn’t help but imagine their eyes glance at me accusingly; my heart striking the inside of my ribcage. They had no way of knowing what I did, or what I’m about to do, yet a part of me believed they were going to all simultaneously look at me and jeer and boo me. And of course, that self-depreciating part of me, that part that kept making me aware of the crime I committed, wanted them to.

As I turned a corner, still keeping an eye out, I saw the most peculiar of sights. It was Maple. Now ordinarily such a sight wasn’t unusual, I’d be ambivalent to it, but he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by a plethora of mares and stallions, all listening intently to whatever bullshit he was spewing, and after a moment they all began to laugh. I was half-curious, and was tempted to go see what they all found so funny, as well as investigate how Maple of all ponies was able to gather such a crowd. Did he miraculously become popular? Well, he is pretty good at capitalising on opportunity. I suppose he was able to milk Blossom sitting beside him quite well, and Synary (the new kid, whom was cute to many mares) was icing on the already too frosted cake for him. I suppose I have that display to thank for taking my mind briefly away from my current problem, but I can’t let petty matters distract me. I tore my eyes away, and walked past without more than a second glance, seeing Maple’s pride ridden expression.

I found Blossom walking down one of the hallways flanked on either side by mares, both chatting to her, apparently not noticing of her blank disinterested expression. Upon noticing me she perked up visibly, and without a word she somehow shrugged off the mares without uttering a word, almost as if they were decoration.

“Hey, Silver. What’s up?” She greeted, and despite her affectionate smile, I found myself unable to return it.

“Hi Blossom,” I returned the greeting, and struggled to maintain eye contact, “can you come with me, I have to tell you something.”

“Um, sure,” she shrugged, still smiling.

“We have to find Synary first,” I said, and she tilted her head in confusion.

“Why does he have to be there too?” She asked, and I paused, glancing away momentarily.

“I-I just need the two of you, okay?” I said, inkling of desperation in my voice.

“Alright,” she said, her brow arched. My expression in reply was a meek smile.

She followed me, just short of walking abreast, but she lagged behind as I picked the pace. I didn’t want to see the expression she wore, confusion, or even worse yet annoyance. There were glances as students saw her follow me, a sight understandably strange. A colt never the centre of anything, was suddenly the leader of the school’s most popular student, or failing that the principal’s daughter… now that I’ve said that, the idea of what I’m about to do seems less attractive, not that it was a particularly beckoning prospect to begin with.

I nearly missed Synary, his attempts to make himself small and unnoticed were improving, and it was actually him that sought my attention. “Silver,” he said as I walked past, his hoof prodding softly into my side.

“S-Synary,” I replied, turning to face him, his smile warm.

“Hi, Silver, it’s nice to see you,” he greeted, and when his eyes flicked to Blossom his smile lessened somewhat. Although I could sense it wasn’t out of maliciousness, but rather, his nervousness had come up to surface as it predominantly had. His lack of it around me, well… was self-explanatory. “H-hey Blossom Bloom.”

“You can just call me ‘Blossom’, remember?” She said playfully, and Synary’s smile appeared a little less submissive.

“S-sorry, B-Blossom,” he re-greeted, and Blossom beamed.

“I’m sorry, Synary, but could you follow me?” I asked, and he looked at me with slightly risen eyebrows.

“O-oh, okay,” he complied, the smile he still wore made my chest ache.

“Please follow me,” I said to the both of them, walking off down the hall, them presumably following in tow.

I searched for an empty room, be it classroom or janitor’s closet. I must have looked weird standing on my hind hooves to look through the glass, shaking my head at the sight of a student or teacher.

“Why can’t you just say what you want to say out here, Silver?” Blossom asked, still lagging behind.

“It has to be in private,” I said firmly, and that was the last of that.

Several more minutes passed, and I found that one of the art classrooms on the east side of school was empty. I rushed inside, trespassing be damned. The confused duo followed me inside, and I heard Synary begin some kind of protest, but his voice fizzled out and became a squeak. The windows in here lacked curtains, which I suspect was intentional considering the subject taught in here, and there was something aesthetic about sunlight on paint covered desks.

I gulped, and walked further inside, taking a spot at the front of the class, they stood before me side by side. They looked at each with sideward glances of confusion, before landing their eyes upon me, expectant. I remained tight jawed, looking between them with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Emerald and amber eyes, both different colours, both sharing the same level of worry.

“Well… what is it?” Blossom asked, and Synary gave a slight nod.

I sat on my flank, and resisted the urge to fidget, my heart beating furiously, my gut being tied into knots. “Uh…”

“Silver?” Synary’s voice held a tone of concern, although he shied away when Blossom gave him a arched brow look.

“I don’t really know how to go about this…” I muttered, looking between the two of them.

“Go about what?” Blossom took a step toward me, and I grimaced.

“This whole thing,” I replied half-heartedly, “I don’t know how to start.”

“C-can we help?” Synary asked, and I cringed.

“O-okay. W-what do you two both have in common?” I asked, and they both looked perplexed.

“Uh… we both go the same school?” Blossom offered, and Synary nodded.

“Ok, uh…” I smacked my lips together, “you both also have something else in common. Mainly relating to m-me.”

They both tilted their heads, glancing to one another before looking back at me. “You?” Said Blossom.

“Y-yes,” I replied, and she looked even more confused.

“We both know you, both go to the same school as you, we both considerer you a friend…” she teetered off on the end of that line of thought, looking between the floor and myself with squinted eyes and furrowed brows. “Wait a minute…”

“W-what?” Synary asked, and she found herself alternating between him, me, and the floor.

“Y-yeah?” I probed her, and her eyes parted as realisation struck her, looking to Synary.

“You sucked his dick?!” Blossom exclaimed with incredulousness toward the suddenly cowering colt, and I went wide eyed and took a step toward them.

“No, no, no, I meant you both had dates with me, not that!”

“Oh, so he didn’t?”

“W-well…” Synary stuttered, his face going bright pink with a blush.

“T-this is going off course,” I said, and the two of them looked at each other with an expression I couldn’t read. “B-but now you know why I wanted to speak to the both of you.”

“Well, this is quite something,” Blossom said, and for some reason I found her reaction underwhelming. Regardless of visible anger, I still felt the daisy chain in my gut. “I honestly don’t know how to react.”

“M-me too,” Synary surprisingly spoke out, and Blossom glanced at him with a nod before looking back at me.

“Upset that I betrayed both of your trusts?” I offered, and Blossom pursed her lips.

“A l-little,” Synary looked away, “b-but we have to be realistic, don’t we?”

“What?” I asked, looking at him worried.

“Y-you only went out with me once,” Synary said rather bluntly, a little downtrodden. “We shared something special, but we still hardly know each other.”

“He’s right,” Blossom concurred, and I looked at her just as confused. “We did go out twice, both times because I asked you to. I don’t blame you for taking out Synary – he’s cute – but like he said, we have to be realistic. I don’t feel cheated on, and the way you’re reacting to all this is… kinda sweet.”

“Thanks for telling us,” Synary seemed to agree, and I could only look between the two of them confused.

“Don’t you want to slap me, kick my flank, or belittle me in front of the whole school?”

“Not particularly. Although there would be something interesting we could do in front of the whole school, as long as we don’t get caught that this…” Blossom trailed off slyly, and Synary looked away, face red. “Besides, I think we both also have in common we like you too.”

“But it’s not fair,” I stressed, looking between them with a weary stare. “This can only end one way, and you know that. And I don’t want to do that to either of you. I know it’s a little weird for me to say, especially since we haven’t known each other for too long, but I care for you both, and I don’t want to see either of you getting hurt.”

“Well, what do you want us to say, Silver?” Blossom looked tired, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at either of them.

“You don’t have to say anything, you never had to say anything,” I said, pursing my lips. “But I can say that I’m sorry I did this… goodbye.”

Sister wrapped her hoof around me for the second time this week, and on the same day no less. She must have heard me coming up the stairs, and when I took refuge in my room, she joined me. I sat propped against the headboard of my bed, and I scooted over for her, and when she took me in a single hoofed embrace I leant against her; my head on her nape.

“You don’t look beaten up, so at least they look like they took it well,” she quipped, voice soft.

“They took it better than me,” I replied, recalling how my sombre exit from the room went unopposed, their expressions saddened. “You ever broken up with anypony before?”

“I have. But by that point I felt nothing for them. I can’t imagine breaking up with somepony who you liked, and you did it twice at once.”

“Yeah…” I said monotone, chewing the inside of my cheek. “I feel like shit.”

“That was expected.”

“Yep…” I sighed.

“What are you gonna do now?” She asked, and I looked down in thought.

“I don’t know. What can I do?”

“Don’t let this brief moment ruin the rest of you life?”

“…That’s a good start.”

I couldn’t summon the will to go to school, at least for a little while. The thought of going back to that mess of awkwardness left me cringing and feeling physically ill. I spent most of the week lazing about, idly doing some work here or there, but I mostly felt drained. Is this depression? Celestia, I hope not. It was Thursday and I sitting in the dining room, eating a bowl of cereal whilst I idly read a newspaper. Something about a pony called Coattail and the government, I don’t know. Twinkle, surprisingly, took a seat at the table. She hadn’t really done much, and I’ve come to think of her as a decoration, as bad at that sounds she wasn’t somepony who I disdained sharing the room with. In her mouth she placed upon the table several letters, and sighed, bored. Atleast we shared that in common.

“Hey,” I greeted, and she glanced at me from the adjacent seat across the table, blinking.

“Hey,” she returned, monotone. At least we spoke the same language?

“What you got there?”

“Just some mail,” she shrugged, scratching her nose.

“Right… gotta get the mail.”

“Yep…”

“…”

“…” Wow, this was awkward. “So, where’d you work?”

“Here.”

“No, I meant, you know… before,” I rolled my head, avoiding stating the obvious.

“Right… at a brothel,” she shrugged, her tone still dead.

“Local?”

“Yeah.”

“Ponyville?”

“No. Canterlot,” she said, and I was taken slightly aback.

“There’s a brothel in Canterlot? You know this is where the princesses live, right?” I asked, slightly in disbelief.

“Believe whatever you want, but it exists,” she replied, her voice betraying an inkling of pride.

“What’s it called?” I asked.

“Why, want to go?” She spoke, her tone still flat, but there again was a tinge of humour in the way she spoke.

“N-no, just curious. What do you call a brothel in the royal city?” I could imagine a few, the monarch’s plothole, shame of the city, or maybe something fancy like risqué.

“Red door.”

“What?” I asked, maybe she mistook my question as to what it looked like from outside, but to be honest I had no idea how she could misconstrue it as that.

“That’s the name,” she shrugged, and at my furrowed brows she gave something of a smirk, which was just a quick exhale through the nose. “The red door brothel, it’s quite popular you know.”

“Really?” I curled my lip. You learn something new every day. Apparently learning there’s a brothel right under the nose of Celestia herself is quite intriguing. “How much did you make anyway?”

“Eighty on a good night. Although there were plenty of other mares who made more. There was a mare called Velvet Touch who raked in five hundred usually,” she leant forward a bit as she talked, a smile curve was present on her lip.

“So she was good?”

“Buck yeah, she was good. Dead proud of it too. Bit of a bitch,” she ended with a half shrug, “don’t know what happened to her. She disappeared a few months ago.”

“Any theories?”

“Eh, some of the mares thought she was kidnapped, others think she got guilted into stopping by a colt that came in one day, might have been hers, who knows. Some even think she found love,” she ended that statement with an incredulous look.

“She might’ve,” I said, “what can I say. I’m a bit of a sucka for a happy ending.”

“Maybe, maybe. Then again, she could be dead in some gutter somewhere,” I pulled a sour expression, and then she curled her lip, “or maybe she found love. But that makes you quite the optimist.”

“A little bit,” I said, a shrug, and I remembered just how much an optimist I was when revealing the truth to Synary and Blossom. Well, there’s that slump again… “Are any of those mine?”

“Oh? Let me check,” she looked down, her eyes following the letters of the first letter and swatting it aside, reading the next. She moved aside two more before tilting her head and furrowing her brows. “Uh…”

“What?”

“For numbnuts?” She said with a smirk, and pushed it toward me, the paper sliding on the varnished wood.

“For me?” I said, looking down at the white envelope, pushing aside my cereal and looking at it with a curled lip. I tore the top off with my teeth and pulled out the piece of paper within, unfolding it, the paper written in unusually neat cursive. “Dear Fagaloon, you are hereby cordially summoned to bask in the graciousness of your emcee, Maple. There is no dress code, however it is mandatory for your socks to be worn, so that as the night progresses, they will be knocked off with the full force of my party mastery. Let’s wake Celestia the fuck up our party is so cray. Yours sincerely, Maple ‘Party master’ Oakly.” Below was a list of details, minus address because in its place was ‘you know where I live, you fuck’. Saturday, eight O’clock.

“Sounds like a party invite,” said Twinkle.

“Yes it does, Twinkle. Yes it does.”

“You gonna go?”

“What else is a colt gonna do on a Saturday night?”

… I wonder if Synary and Blossom will be there?