"And no, I'm not blind either!"
Just another day for me, really. Walk walk walking down the streets of Ponyville, breathing in the sights and thinking about what I might eat for dinner later. What? You thought I would be thinking about a new remix, or something? Of course you did.
Fans. They're awesome, of course, but hell are they inquisitive sometimes. Here comes one now, sauntering up to me real casual as if they haven't even noticed I'm here, then turning at the last moment with an expression of fake surprise when they're a few feet away. Any closer and they'd be brushing up on me. It's so typical it hurts. If you want to talk to me, you can just approach me like a normal pony, I don't bite.
I look over at the pony, but they can't see that. I offer a small smile, because the only way I can ever communicate an expression is with my lips. They kinda simmer there, hopping from one hoof to another as if they're unsure how to start a normal conversation. Looking around, I notice that this pony's being watched by a few others, possibly friends. The street's pretty crowded right now, but they're definitely looking over. Meanwhile, this stallion looks like he's about to shit himself.
It's a little cute, really, but it gets old fast. "Hey, what's up?" I ask in a chipper tone, hoping to break through some of those nerves he's presenting so strongly and engage him in some sort of dialogue. It's clearly what he wanted, after all.
"Oh!" he responds, jolting in place.
And that's all he says. It's strange, to say the least, and as much as I don't want to entertain my first guess as to the reason why, I'm used to it by now. "Why the surprise?" I ask, hoping it's not gonna be another one of those conversations.
"I-it's just I—" he stammers, causing me to lean in, "I didn't realise that you could, uhh, speak." He kind of nodded in affirmation of his own words as he finished, looking everywhere but at her.
Anddd there it was. How long had it been since somepony had said that now? Four days? About that. Naturally, my smile dropped, and I gave the same response I give to everypony else. "Why is that, then?"
"Well, it's just, I've been to your gigs before... Huge fan, actually. And whenever I see you performing, you never seem to say a word. Even when you're done, and you're signing autographs or whatever, you just seem to nod along, never actually saying anything. I kinda assumed you were a mute."
I withhold a sigh. It's a fairly reasonable assumption, and a common one to boot, and I've come to terms with that. "Look, the reason you won't catch me talking much during those shows is that there's no point in trying to shout over the music, I actually would lose my voice if I did that every time I performed. As for afterwards? I'm freaking exhausted, I haven't got the energy to hear about how I've inspired every pony there to start producing music or whatever. Not to say I don't care, but if I engaged everypony in conversation I'd probably not get home for days. Easier to just smile and nod, capiche?"
It was as if the pony didn't take in a word she had just said. "Hey, guys! Come over! She can talk!"
"You owe me ten bits, then!" one of them shouted back.
That really put my back up, and I could feel myself snarling at the lot of them. "You put a bet on whether or not I had a disability?" I ask, utterly appalled. I'm used to ponies being a bit rude about the whole mute thing by now, but there were limits.
Slowly and awkwardly, the first pony nodded as his friends walked over. "I wasn't going to say anything, and it's not the only reason I came to talk to you. I really wanted to meet you as well."
"What's the other reason, then? Got another bet riding on whether or not I can hear?"
"See, actually," the shouting pony corrected as he walked over to me, three others in tow. "You're always wearing those shades. I was wondering if it was a blind thing, or something."
"I can see you've got a muzzle that looks like a cinder block, that answer your question?" I replied, aware that I'd just totally wrecked his shit. "Am I freakin' blind. Oh yeah, of course I am. I Just left my guide dog around the corner, that's all," I mutter aloud, scoffing at the casual inquiry.
"...Guess it does," the pony answered, subconsciously pawing at his rather obtrusive face. "There's gotta be a reason you wear those shades though. You've literally always got them on."
"You ever heard of image?" I answer with a derisive laugh, my eyes narrowing. "You see these shades, you think Pon-3. That's the idea, anyway. Not everything has an ulterior motive or secret reason behind it."
"Alright," one of the ponies in the back piped up, "What about the vampire thing?"
"Hold on a sec, that's a new one." I feel my lips part as the confusion hits. "Vampire? How?"
"Well, your coat is pure white... You're usually out at night..."
"You're always wearing those shades," the cinder block muzzled pony repeated.
"And to top it all off, we've got no reason to believe that you're not a vampire."
That had to be the shittiest reasoning I'd ever heard. For anything. Ever.
Resisting the urge to flash my clearly not vampiric teeth, I figure a simple explanation will have to suffice. I could almost feel my teeth struggling not to clamp together and grind against one another as I started to speak. "Alright, look," I almost growled, drawing all of their attentions at once. Funny enough, it looked like half of the street had paused to look at me. Wonderful.
"Listen to me. I'm not a fuckin' vampire, alright? Like seriously, that has to be the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard, and whatever—ugh, I dunno, theorist thought that up had a really vivid imagination. My coat is white? I'm a unicorn for heaven's sake, a lot of us have white coats, it's not a difficult concept. I'm a mute because I don't chat everyone's ears off while I'm working? That has to be the most irritating assumption anypony has ever made. So if I choose not to use my horn in public, does that mean I can't use magic either? Same logic, really. Most celebrities have to put up with being pestered by overzealous and curious fans, I have to put up with ponies trying to guess which disability I have! And now curse too, apparently. Do any of you idiots even realise how offensive that is?"
I'm almost panting by the time I'm done. It's been a long time since I've chewed anyone out for that type of behaviour, but these ponies were really pushing it. The ponies before me had all fallen quiet, and a couple of them awkwardly averted their eyes. The entire street seemed to stop, we all swam in a truly uncomfortable silence.
"I'm not buying it!" someone from the street called out. I could almost feel my horn spark in return, a fireball on the tip of my mind.
"Hey, leave off, buddy!" the pony that originally approached me shouted back, "she said we were making her uncomfortable, so stop it now! Who cares if you believe her?"
"I just can't honestly believe that somepony would wear their shades that often just for the sake of image!"
Okay, it wasn't the total truth. In my irritation, I figured it didn't hurt to share. "My eyes are very sensitive to light, alright? That's the other reason I wear them all the time. Is that a problem to you? Does that satisfy your little conspiracy theory?"
The pony on the receiving end said nothing, only nodded and turned away, shamefaced. As he should have been, I thought. There was absolutely no reason he had to push it like that.
The ponies around me quickly began to disperse. Seemed like my words had actually had a profound effect on them, as they didn't whisper and mutter amongst themselves as they left, either. It was a little satisfying, really, knowing that for once, ponies had actually listened to me and stopped with their inane guesses.
I got a couple of apologies from the fanpony's friends, even cinder block mumbled a quick sorry. It was satisfying, to feel respected and have my words actually be appreciated by the ponies around me, even if they were strangers.
As fanpony's friends started to walk on, he stayed put. "I really am sorry about this," he said, sounding completely genuine. "I really didn't think about how you'd feel being judged and guessed about like that, it wasn't fair on you at all."
"Hey, don't worry," I smiled, already getting over it. "Thanks for sticking up for me just then, even if you inadvertently started it." Slowly, my smile began to grow into a full on grin. "Hey, you never know, maybe word'll spread and ponies will actually start to get the message now?"
"Well, you can only hope," Fanboy replied, his expression pleasant and warm. "So," he snickered, "Not a vampire, then?"
My grin didn't falter. "Nah, dude, I'm freakin' mole pony, if you must know."
"Alright, alright, I get it," he laughed, a slight tint to his cheeks. "It was nice meeting you, Vinyl."
"Eh, wasn't so bad for me either," I winked, flicking up my shades in the process so he got the full eyelid bat. "Anyways, I'm gonna head off, try not to suck any blood before I get home."
I left him laughing, not waiting for a response. Glancing back, I saw that he'd gone back to join his friends, and my thoughts quickly went back to dinner. There was no point in dwelling over this, after all. It had been annoying and offensive while it had lasted, but it was over now, and something good seemed to come of my little rant in the end.
As I walked, I began to wonder just how many outlandish, obscure theories had been thought out about me in the past, how much time had been spent making the assumptions and working out the specifics. I could probably spend my entire life debunking them and they'd still never run dry. Ponies and their imaginations, huh? It was almost endearing when it wasn't being aimed at me.
I walked through the door, not bothering to check if Octavia was in. Honestly, my stomach was guiding me by now. I walked straight past the kitchen and into my bedroom, depositing the headphones that had sat around my neck all day and moving over to the bed in the corner of my room.
Here came the annoying part. Positioning myself around the side, I began to push the bed, straining to get the heavy thing out of the way. With a final grunt of effort I moved it enough that a mound of dirt was visible underneath, the foundations of the home having been chipped away at and shoveled out of the way.
Smiling, I dug my paws in and began to burrow underground, swiftly digging my way back into my underground earth house. It felt good to be home.
Now it was time to think about dinner again. After a little deliberation, I settled on an earthworm and some nuts, taking off my shades and allowing my eyes to relax in the familiar dark as I set my table. I had manners, after all.
Digging into the nuts, I thought back to my earlier encounter, laughing between bites as I softly nibbled away at each small nut, eyeing the wriggling main course. Ponies made lots of assumptions, sure, but they never made the right ones.
