Chapters My Voice Ain't Loud and My Mind's a Wreck, but My Friends Keep Me Sane
Booker sighed heavily and melted into the faded armchair. He'd flown the entire way to Ponyville from Vanhoover so he could avoid paying the train fare, and his muscles all felt like they'd been through a meat tenderizer. The chill autumn air certainly hadn't made his journey any more comfortable, and by the end of it he had begun to question whether or not the few bits he'd saved were worth the price his body paid. He also regretted not bringing any winter clothing with him. His hoodie certainly helped against the cold, but autumn was almost over and there was a sharp nip in the air that the thin fabric couldn't block.
"I hope I find a job soon," Booker muttered. After scouring the entire western half of Equestria, he'd begun to have his doubts on whether or not there really was a place for him after all. He'd discovered his talent for singing at a young age and he had hoped he would be able to make a living off of music, but after completely failing to make any form of success, he decided to give up and try to find a job he wasn't a complete failure in.
This also proved to be much more difficult than Booker had initially hoped, hence his presence in Ponyville, someplace where it probably wouldn't be very easy for an outsider to find work, especially one with his personality. It would take a good entrepreneur to make it big in a place like this; something he was not. He had no interest or passion for business. The only reason he had stopped by was because the small town was on his way to Canterlot, so he'd decided he might as well make the extra stop. He could use the time to rest.
Booker sighed to himself and glanced around the room he was staying in. He was in Ponyville's only hotel, a rather small and old building, but still well kept. If you asked him, it was more of an inn than a hotel given its size, but he'd decided to not say that to the owner.
Booker's room was much like the rest of the 'hotel'; aged and worn, but still very clean. The queen-sized bed was in the far corner of the room, next to the small bathroom, and a tiny kitchenette occupied the wall opposite the armchair he was sitting in. The room was cozy, and fairly priced, Booker had to admit. They could have charged outlandish prices, being the only place in Ponyville for travelers to stay, but the owner was apparently too nice for that.
A light click from the bathroom caught Booker's attention, and he sighed again as he hauled himself upright. The bathtub was the nicest perk of the hotel, and it was probably his favorite thing in the building. It was large enough for a grown stallion to stretch in, and it had an automatic shut-off feature that turned the water off once it reached the fill line. There'd also been a one-use bottle of bubble bath, which he had happily upended into the tub before letting it fill.
The door to the bathroom swung quietly shut behind Booker. The bathtub was comfortably full and housed a satisfying amount of fluffy bubbles. After a long day of flying, the hot water of the tub was incredibly alluring to his sore body.
Booker dropped his black hoodie and red bandana on the edge of the sink. He was about to turn and walk toward the tub, but stopped when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Sapphire eyes peeked out from behind a long, spiky maroon mane that framed his shockingly soft face. Many ponies described him as having a rather feminine appearance, and he'd even been mistaken as a mare on multiple occasions. He didn't mind too much, but it could be embarrassing at times, especially whenever somepony thought he'd walked into the wrong restroom.
There were a number of blemishes across Booker's body, and they were the main reason he always wore clothes out in public. He didn't like answering the questions that arose from other ponies, so covering up the marks was a much easier route.
The numerous scars along Booker's forelegs were easy enough to hide with hoodies or stockings depending on the temperature outside, but the long one across his neck was a different story. The pink line stood out sharply against his white smoke-colored fur, and ponies tended to ask about it a lot. He had been unsure of how to hide it at first, but he ultimately decided to just wear scarves and bandanas.
Booker shook his head to clear his thoughts. Even though most of the pain was gone, he still hated thinking about his past. He climbed into the large bathtub, sinking in deep enough that the water level rested comfortably just below his nostrils. "I need to just leave everything behind me. Once I find my true purpose, I'll finally be happy," he thought to himself. He sighed blissfully as he rested his head against the wall of the tub and relaxed his aching muscles. "Tomorrow I'll have a quick look around, then I'm gonna fly to Canterlot. I don't want to waste too much time in Ponyville. It's not like there's anything for me here, anyway."
"Oh my, that scarf is quite lovely. Where did you find it?"
Booker jumped in surprise at the voice that suddenly appeared behind him and nearly spilled cider all over himself. He'd been completely absorbed in reading the newest book in the Wings of Flame series while eating lunch at The Hay Burger, and he hadn't heard the pony walk up to him. That, and he was used to being invisible.
The voice belonged to an older white unicorn, roughly in her fifties if Booker had to guess. She had beautiful azure eyes, a flowing violet mane, and a cutie mark in the shape of three diamonds. She looked vaguely familiar, but Booker couldn't quite place his hoof on why.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you," the unicorn said, batting her eyelashes.
Booker shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout it," he said quietly. He lifted one end of the soft crimson cloth and felt his cheeks redden slightly. "Um, I actually made it."
The unicorn's eyes widened slightly in shock for a moment, something Booker was accustomed to by then. "Oh, you're a stallion! Terribly sorry, I thought you were a mare at first." She shook her head lightly and looked him over. "The scarf goes perfectly with your jacket. I don't suppose you made that, too?"
Booker glanced down at the jacket he was wearing. It was fairly simple, made of black wool with a crimson fleece lining on the inside to match his scarf and add a hint of color. The thing about it that was so different was the red cord running along the front in place of a zipper. It rain in and out of nickel grommets not unlike the lacing in boots, except instead of tying it off tightly in a loop at the top, he wore the jacket loosely, leaving the top few holes empty and allowing a strip of white fur to show down the front. Hidden knots near both ends of the cord kept the garment from opening up any more, keeping it in place without a large unsightly knot in the middle and making it look somewhat like an untied shoe.
"No, I did," Booker said awkwardly as he felt more heat rise to his cheeks. Telling other ponies he liked to sew always made him feel embarrassed.
The unicorn gasped in what seemed like an overly dramatic reaction and batted her eyelashes again. "You did? I never knew there were other seamsters here in Ponyville."
Booker shook his head. "It's just a hobby, and I don't live here."
"You're visiting? What brings you to our small town?"
"Just passing through while I look for work," Booker said. He decided against including the long details of his journey up to that point. Annoying other ponies wasn't something he liked to do.
"Work, you say? Hmm..." The unicorn rubbed her chin with one hoof for a moment, looking thoughtful. After a few seconds she looked back at Booker's jacket with an excited glint in her eyes and motioned to it. "May I?"
Booker scratched one foreleg subconsciously and glanced away. "Oh, um... I'd rather keep it on, if that's okay."
"That's quite alright." A knowing expression flashed briefly across the unicorns face, and Booker was worried for a moment that she might have suspicions about what was hidden beneath his jacket. The look was so brief that he wondered if he'd just imagined it, however, and the unicorn leaned her head in as if nothing had happened, glancing around at the more miniscule details on his jacket. "Hmm. Yes, not bad. It's not professional, but your stitching is neat, and I can see you put care into even the smallest of details."
The unicorn stood back upright and tapped her nose a couple times. "How would you like to work for me at my boutique here in Ponyville?"
Booker sucked in a breath, more than a little surprised. "Really? You're sure?"
The unicorn nodded confidently. "I'm certain. With a bit of training and practice, I think your potential could really shine. Your sense of style may not be in fashion, though I do like the principles behind it. Unique, but not showy. Bold, yet subtle. What do you say?"
Booker was stunned into silence for a moment. Ponyville was the last place he'd expected to find work, and he certainly hadn't expected whatever job he found to be as enjoyable as this. "Yeah, I'd love to."
"Wonderful! With all the boutiques I've opened across Equestria, I've been spending more and more time on the road and I don't like staying away from Ponyville for so long. My Canterlot Boutique has been especially busy as of late. Having somepony here all the time would be a huge relief. Is tomorrow morning a good time to start?"
"That works for me," Booker said.
"Excellent. Carousel Boutique is just down this road, heading away from the town square. I'll see you in the morning." With that the unicorn turned to go, but after a moment a thought seemed to strike her, and she turned back around, looking slightly embarrassed. "Oh, I've forgotten my manners and didn't introduce myself. So sorry about that. My name is Rarity."
"I'm Booker." His eyes went wide as he matched her name to her face and realized why she had looked so familiar. Rarity was only the most famed fashion designer in all of Equestria. How could he have forgotten? "Wait, the Rarity?"
Rarity nodded slightly. "Mhm. You've heard of me?"
"Of course. I don't know how I didn't recognize you."
"Well, I must admit I don't look quite this, erm, aged in most of my photos, shall we say," Rarity said sheepishly. "Anyway, do excuse me, but I'm meeting a friend here for lunch and she just arrived. I'd hate to keep her waiting."
Booker nodded to Rarity as she left, then turned back to his lunch and buried his face in his book to hide his excitement. "I can't believe it! I'm gonna work for one of my idols? This is crazy! Mom's gonna be as excited as I am about this." He finished off his lunch, gulped down the last of his Apple Farm cider, then left the restaurant to explore the town and get familiar with what was going to be his new home.
If it weren't for Booker's mom, he never would have started sewing as a foal. She'd taught him the basics at a young age and it had quickly become a favorite hobby of his. Of course, he'd been terrible at it when he first started, but after nearly fifteen years of off-and-on practice, he'd gotten quite proficient at it. In recent years these skills were mostly used to make complex costumes, but on occasion he would make an article of clothing if he either didn't feel like paying for one, or couldn't find one in the design he wanted.
"Well, I guess the next step is finding somewhere to live," Booker thought as he walked down the streets of Ponyville. He couldn't just live in a hotel for the next few months. As cheap as the room rate was, it would still add up fairly quickly. "I'm sure it won't take too long to find something. I got a job without even trying, so this should be easy."
It wasn't. After hours of searching Booker hadn't found a single place to live, and the sun was beginning to sink below the trees. There were only two houses for sale in all of Ponyville that he could find. One was positively massive and way out of his budget, the other was falling apart and needed more skill to repair than he had. And being such a small town, there wasn't a single apartment. Finding a home was proving to be extremely difficult.
"Ugh. My hooves are aching again," Booker thought as he sat down heavily in front of one of the town notice boards. This wasn't easy at all . He sighed to himself. It looked like he was going to have to spend a few more nights in that hotel.
Booker glanced up at the notice board for probably the third time that evening. It was fairly sparse; a notice about a possible nearby parasprite infestation, a couple of campaign adverts for ponies who were expecting the mayor to retire soon, and an open party invitation at someplace called 'Sugarcube Corner' written entirely in crayon. However, there was one new poster he hadn't noticed earlier, and he peered closely at it.
The poster showed a picture of four stallions in what looked like a band; a drummer, a bassist, and two guitarists. Along the top in large red text read, "New lead singer needed for the rock group 'My Chemical Friendship,' male voice preferred." This was followed by a pony's contact information in small lettering.
"Hey, I've heard of that group," Booker thought to himself. They were fairly new; they only had one album out and they had just finished their first tour recently, but Booker thought their music sounded pretty good. He also remembered thinking the singer sounded unenthusiastic at times, and wondered if that was the reason for him quitting.
"You thinking about joining?" a deep voice said suddenly.
Booker jumped in surprise for the second time that day and turned to see a charcoal-colored pony with pale blue eyes and a fairly long denim-colored mane. Booker also recognized him as the drummer from the poster he was just looking at. "Maybe."
"We could definitely use the talent," the unicorn said with a nod toward Booker's cutie mark; a pair of black tied eighth notes. "Our singer left a couple of weeks ago to pursue other interests."
Booker scratched the side of his neck anxiously. "I don't know. It seems like a lot of work."
The unicorn shook his head. "It's not too bad. Zero, Lucky, and I take care of most of the behind the scenes work. All we need you to do is sing."
Booker hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what he wanted to do, and the unicorn jerked his head down one of the roads. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. That might change your mind." He headed off down the street, and after a short delay, Booker followed.
The two of them walked down the streets of Ponyville, occasionally passing other ponies in the fading light. They walked in silence for a few minutes, but the unicorn broke the silence after a while. "I'm Charcoal Dust, by the way. You can just call me Charcoal."
Booker glanced at Charcoal. "I'm Booker."
"Have you been singing for long?"
Booker nodded. "I was in choir for seven years in school."
Charcoal smiled at a passing pony as they waved to him. "That long, huh? Did you go to any competitions?"
"A few. I got twenty-third out of about two hundred ponies my senior year of high school."
Charcoal raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise. "That's not bad. Zero will still probably want to hear you sing, though. What city are you from? I don't recall anypony from around here entering a competition that large."
"I'm from Maresville. It's just outside of Baltimare," Booker said. He didn't like singing alone in front of other ponies since it always made him feel awkward, but he'd gotten fairly used to it over the years.
"I think we passed by that place on tour, when we visited Baltimare. Didn't go in, though." Charcoal stopped walking and turned toward a decent sized two-story house. It was a good hundred meters from the next closest house, and trees lines the far wall. Booker could faintly hear the sound of an electric guitar coming from the building. "This is it. We practice here, and it's also where Zero lives. It feels more like home to me than my actual home," Charcoal said with a small smile. He led the way to the front door, walked up the three steps, and swung the wooden door open.
Inside the house, Booker saw a lot more furniture than he had initially expected. There were two large couches and three reclining chairs lining the walls of a big living space, and a circular glass table in the middle of the floor. A heavy looking door was set in the right wall, a doorway on the far wall led into what looked like the kitchen, and a set of stairs on the left led to the second story.
On the furniture, there were three earth ponies seated. The first pony, who Booker assumed to be the source of the music he had heard, was somewhat short with a pale orange coat, bright yellow eyes, and a short, fire-colored mane. He was also riffing on a guitar, practicing a few difficult-sounding lines.
The remaining two ponies were each on one of the couches. The first one was a pale shade of green with paler green eyes and a muzzle-length mint-colored mane. He was sorting through a bunch of papers, which took up the rest of the couch he was on and half of the table. The other pony was on the remaining couch, lying on his back and staring at a half-full sheet of music. He had a steel blue coat, silver eyes, and a long white and sapphire two-tone mane.
The blue pony looked up from his music as the door opened. "Hey, Charcoal. You got all the fliers up?"
Charcoal nodded. "Yep, and I brought somepony with me. Everypony, meet Booker," he said as he walked through the door and stepped aside so Booker could enter.
As soon as Booker walked through the door, his anxiety levels shot up and he remembered why he hated meeting new groups of ponies. Having everypony's eyes on him was always nerve-racking.
The orange pony was the first from his seat, and he trotted happily over to Booker. "Hello! I'm Heatwave, one of the guitarists. You're gonna sing for us?"
Booker shrugged. "Maybe." Overenthusiastic ponies like this always made him feel on edge, and he never knew why.
"Slow down, Heatwave. We haven't even heard him yet," the green pony shouted from across the room. He smiled kindly at Booker. "I'm Tough Luck, but my friends call me Lucky. Ironically, I'm the most un lucky of the group," he said before turning back to the mass of papers.
"We gotta make a nickname for him. Can we call him New Blood?" Heatwave asked, completely ignoring Lucky's comment.
The blue pony sighed as he got up from the couch and walked over to them. "You can't force a nickname. It has to come naturally, or it's gonna suck." He stopped a few feet away and turned to Booker. "I'm Absolute Zero, but just call me Zero. So, you wanna join our group?"
"I'm not sure. It seems fun, but I just moved here and I kind of want to settle in for now," Booker said nervously.
"I told him meeting you guys might change his mind," Charcoal chimed in. "He's been singing a good few years, and he even placed in the top quarter in a high school competition."
Zero scratched his chin and looked Booker over. "If I'd have known you were coming, I would've locked Heatwave in the studio before you came in. He's really overbearing," he joked, ignoring the protest from Heatwave. "We can give you a couple weeks before you have to start showing up to practice with us. That should be enough time."
Booker nodded, half to himself. He really enjoyed singing, and he wasn't sure if there would be many other opportunities for him to do so in a group that met more than once a week. He'd hate to lose touch with a skill he loved so much. Also, he always had a tough time making friends, and this seemed like a really good opportunity to do so. With the exception of Heatwave, they all seemed like ponies he could enjoy being around. He was just a little worried about how much effort it would take, and he was also worried his skills wouldn't be enough. He'd always doubted what he could do, even with compliments from other ponies. "That's tempting," he said hesitantly after a moment.
"Why not sleep on it? That way you don't feel pressured into making a decision immediately," Zero said. "Being in a band is a bunch of work, but we have a lot of fun doing it."
"Sure, I can think about it."
"Sounds good. Just stop by tomorrow evening and give us your answer then. Do you know your way back home from here? I know we're way at the edge of town," Zero asked.
Booker scratched the side of his neck and thought for a moment. "Kind of? I'm staying at the hotel right now."
"You don't have a place to live yet? Hmm..." Zero tapped his chin and looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "Tell you what. If you agree to join us, I'll let you stay in my guest bedroom until you can get your own place. No rent. All you gotta do is sing for us."
"Can I still think about it?" Booker asked. That was a very appealing deal, but he didn't want to rush into things and make a big decision like that without thinking about it first.
Zero nodded. "Of course. We'll see you tomorrow, then. If you decide you want to join, we'll have you sing a few lines if that's okay." He reached over and opened the door before turning to Charcoal. "Do you mind showing him how to get to the hotel?"
"Not at all." Charcoal led the way outside, and Booker waved a goodbye to Heatwave and Lucky. The latter of the two only briefly looked up before turning back to the papers, and Booker got the feeling he was normally very busy.
Before long they reached their destination, and after saying goodbye to Charcoal and paying the pony at the front desk for one more night, Booker walked through the door into his hotel room and shut the door behind him. "Hmm. So that was certainly an eventful day," he thought as he stripped from his clothes and sat down on the armchair, taking a break to just let his mind wander.
The more Booker thought about it, the more enticing Zero's offer became. Sure, being in a band in addition to his job would be a lot of work, but would it really feel like work? He enjoyed singing more than almost anything, and doing it with a group of ponies who seemed fun to be around would make it even better. To top it all off, he'd get a temporary place to stay, and it wouldn't cost him a single bit.
"I think that's a plan, then," Booker thought, smiling to himself. He got the feeling this was one of the most important decisions he'd ever make, and he couldn't explain how he knew, but he was certain accepting would lead to a vast improvement in his life. "I can't wait to tell everypony back home about this!"
My Voice Ain't Loud and My Mind's a Wreck, but My Friends Keep Me Sane
Booker leaned back into one of the couches and sighed. Even after his long day at work he'd still practiced with the rest of the band, and he was happy to take a break and relax. As much as he enjoyed both sewing and singing, his cramped muscles needed rest, and Zero's studio could get quite hot. All that soundproofing trapped in an incredible amount of heat.
The band had practiced with all five members for one week. Booker had felt he had settled in enough at the beginning of the week and decided to join in early, and he could tell the others were happy to be back to a full group again. The music wasn't too difficult - it was on par with the stuff he liked to sing for fun, so even though he had been worried at first he would be the weak link in the group, it seemed like everypony was at a fairly similar skill level. Nopony was dragging the band back too much, and there wasn't anypony who was bored from easy music.
"Damn, that new song is awesome, Zero," Heatwave said as he sat in his usual chair. "Is it a single, or are we putting it in the next album?"
Zero shrugged and flopped onto his couch. "I don't know, that depends on if it fits the theme. We still need to decide on that, by the way. Friendship was a vague one for our first album, but we need something different this time. I've got a few bars written that I can't do anything with until I know what we're going for. Anypony got a suggestion?"
"Let's make it about a stallion and a mare who are madly in love, but the stallion dies and goes to Hell, where he looks for his lover, expecting to find her dead, too. The only pony he finds is the Devil, who tells him the mare is actually still alive, and he promises to re-unite them if the stallion can bring him one thousand evil souls. The stallion accepts and the Devil sends on his way, but he never accomplishes the task, and the two ponies remain separated for eternity," Heatwave immediately proposed.
"What?" Booker thought, frowning in confusion. Everypony else seemed as bewildered as him by the unusually specific proposition, and nopony spoke.
"Or," Lucky said from his chair after a long moment, "We could boil that down into a central message and make the album about loss and the pain of real life. I think it contrasts nicely with our last album."
Zero scratched his nose. "I think we can actually work off of both of those. Lucky's suggestion can be the main theme of the album, and Heatwave's outburst could be the story behind one of the songs." He cast a sideways glance at Heatwave. "Did you actually make a half-decent suggestion for once?"
Heatwave nodded and crossed his forelegs, oblivious to the insult. "I did, thank you."
Zero shook his head and turned to Charcoal. "Anyway, can you get the drinks?" Charcoal nodded and stood from his chair before disappearing into the kitchen.
Lucky noticed Booker's confused expression and smiled at him. "You can drink with us if you want, but you don't have to. We get drunk sometimes on Friday after practice, pass out on the floor, then Zero cooks us breakfast in the morning before we go home. You know, I don't actually remember how that became a tradition," he said as he scratched his head, looking lost in thought.
"How old are you, Booker?" Heatwave asked.
"Nineteen."
Heatwave turned to Lucky excitedly. "Legal drinking age in Equestria is eighteen, right? Perfect! New Blood can drink!"
"What did I say about nicknames?" Zero chimed in, only to be ignored by Heatwave.
"Only if he wants to," Lucky said sternly. He turned back to Booker. "Do you want to? We're not pressuring you into it." He shot Heatwave a glance.
Booker shrugged. "Sure. I've never had alcohol before, though."
"No time like the present. Hey Charcoal, float him one of your fancy whiskeys!" Heatwave shouted as Charcoal re-entered the room with an assortment of bottles and glasses floating in front of him.
"Not on your life. One bottle of White Oak is worth more than your hand-me-down guitar," Charcoal joked as he set everything down on the large table.
"It's not hand-me-down, it's vintage!" Heatwave huffed. "And I'll have you know it's entirely worth every bit I spent on it."
Lucky shook his head at Heatwave. "You don't know the meaning of the word 'restraint,' do you? We're not starting him off on something that strong. That stuff could probably substitute for gasoline."
"It can, I've tried." Charcoal filled a fairly small glass with an orange-ish liquid and glanced at Booker. "Do you like apple cider?"
Booker nodded. "Yeah."
"Try one of these, then. It's not too strong, so you should be fine." A glass bottle floated over to Booker, and he grabbed it gingerly. On the front was a label that said "Apple Mill" in large lettering over the face of a stout-looking red stallion wearing a yoke.
"'Not too strong?' Isn't that almost thirty proof?" Lucky asked.
Charcoal shrugged and sat back in his chair. "Thirty is nothing. He'll be just fine."
Zero chuckled. "You know, Lucky, you're like the mother of this dysfunctional family. You've been treating Booker like he's your foal since he got here."
"Well, I'm sorry if I take my commitments so seriously. How can I not try to protect the son I love so much?" Lucky joked, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.
"Oh, great. If he's the mother, what does that make me?" Charcoal grumbled as he sipped from his whiskey.
"The alcoholic step-father," Heatwave cracked, eliciting laughter from the other three ponies. "And me and Zero are the victimized children you brought into this doomed marriage."
Zero chuckled again before playing along with the joke. "Wait, wouldn't that mean I fucked my step-uncle?"
"OKAY, let's not bring my brother into this," Lucky interrupted. He got up from his seat and walked over to the table to pour himself a drink. "We don't need to hear every detail about the relationship between you two. The rest of us had enough of that from the tour last summer."
"You don't suppose I'm the reason he left the band, do you?" Zero continued, thinking out loud.
"No, he clearly said he cares about writing comics more than singing. And at least you can't rail him when he's on the other end of Equestria." Lucky grabbed a bottle from the table and tossed it to Zero. "Here's your rum. Start drinking before your step-mother puts you in time out."
Booker wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and tried to calm his aching sides. There were many moments like this between the four other ponies, and they reminded him a little of his friends from high school marching band. He just wished he wasn't too shy to join in. He was also curious to know whether or not they were joking about Zero and Lucky's brother.
Zero shook his head again and turned to Booker. "So, are you gonna try it or what? Don't let us distract you from beginning your journey into alcoholism."
"I'll run this band into the ground if you guys turn him into an alcoholic," Lucky joked before taking a long drink. "I can and will do it."
"You really are like his mother," Charcoal commented, earning himself a glare.
Booker glanced back at the bottle in his hooves and carefully twisted the cap off. Growing up he'd never so much as smelled alcohol. His parents were the protective, extremely religious type, which dictated a lot of what he did and didn't do in the nineteen years he'd lived with them. Now that he was away from them however, he didn't really mind giving it a try. It wasn't for rebellious reasons or anything, he'd just lost touch with his parents' religion over time and had nothing against drinking anymore.
A little nervously, Booker raised the bottle to his lips and took a small mouthful. He was expecting it to taste like regular apple cider, so he was completely surprised when it wasn't similar at all. Even so, it was pretty decent after he got over that initial shock, and the accompanying burn was bearable.
"Yeah! How does it feel to lose your drinking virginity?" Heatwave yelled from across the room as he selected a yellow-ish bottle from the table.
"Not too bad," Booker said with a laugh. There was a collective chuckle from the others, and pretty soon the group's conversation and banter picked up again.
Before long, Booker noticed himself joining in on the conversations more and more as he began to feel less anxious and stopped filtering what he said. "Damn, I should have started drinking a long time ago," he thought to himself as he upended the last of the cider into his mouth. "This makes talking to ponies way easier."
"Already done? Here, have another," Charcoal said before floating another cider over to Booker.
"Hey, hey, hey! I'm serious about ending this band if you turn him into an alcoholic!" Lucky protested.
Charcoal chuckled. "He'll be fine. You can start worrying when he's on his third."
"I don't see a problem here, either. He's a lot more talkative with some alcohol in him. Now we can actually learn about his personal life," Heatwave joked. "Hey Booker, you got a special mare in your life?"
Booker shook his head. "Nah, not since early high school."
"Damn, you got pussy as a foal?"
Booker laughed and shook his head again. "You think I'd be brave enough to make an advance like that? We never even kissed." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "It's actually pretty embarrassing to talk about."
"That's too bad. What about a special stallion?" Zero asked.
"I don't see myself ever marrying a stallion." Booker opened the bottle of cider and took another drink.
"I think what he's really asking is, 'would you fuck another stallion?'" Lucky chimed in.
Booker went into a fake coughing fit for a couple seconds to fill time, then quickly decided to talk about something else. "Sooo, did you guys know Rainbow Dash has a daughter?"
Zero opened his mouth to call Booker out on changing the subject, but Heatwave jumped in and interrupted him. "Wait, really? I thought she and Applejack were a thing. Aren't they living together right now?"
Charcoal raised an eyebrow at Heatwave. "Seriously? You've lived here your whole life. How did I know she had a daughter, but you didn't? Wouldn't you two have gone to school together as foals?"
Heatwave looked genuinely shocked at that revelation. "And she's about my age? What the hell? How did I meet somepony with a bright rainbow mane and not remember?"
"Well, I think she's actually closer to Booker's age, but you still should have been in school at least one year together." Charcoal sniffed and set his empty glass down on the table. "And her mane isn't rainbow-colored anymore. I think she dyed it solid red a while back, right?"
Booker nodded. "Yeah, it was red when I saw her earlier today. Why would she want to cover up a mane as cool as that?"
"Is she a communist? Or maybe she just doesn't want everypony to assume she's gay, like they do with Rainbow Dash," Zero joked.
"I don't know, she didn't seem like the type of pony to change her mane color for either of those reasons. Maybe she just likes red," Booker mused.
Lucky finished off his drink and shot Booker a suspicious look. "Why are you so curious about that? Are you in love or something?"
Booker snorted. "We only talked for a minute or so. Ponies can't fall in love that quickly." He frowned to himself and took a drink as the others started another conversation. It was a tendency of his to instantly form a crush on pretty much half of the mares he met, so he'd learned to ignore sudden feelings like that after a while. Now that he actually thought about it, however, he realized Hailstorm was actually the kind of pony he'd want to be in a relationship with. Not to mention she was very pretty, too. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and he took another drink.
As the night wore on and Booker finished his second cider, he quickly realized just how impairing alcohol was, and how hard it became to see and talk. He then promptly forgot about that and was overcome by the urge to cuddle somepony. He also didn't feel like getting up, so instead he flopped over on the couch and pulled one of the throw pillows in close to him.
"You doing okay, Booker?" Zero asked, mildly concerned.
"I wanna cuddle," Booker slurred before burying his face in the pillow.
Lucky turned to Charcoal and scowled at him. "Now look at what you did. This is why I said to stop after one. You gave him too much, and now he's barely coherent," he accused.
"Well, how was I supposed to know his alcohol tolerance was so low?" Charcoal countered.
"It was his first time drinking, you should have been more careful." Lucky sighed and glanced at Booker, who had fallen silent. "Look, he's not even talking anymore."
"Is he dead?" Heatwave asked with his eyes wide.
Zero laughed and shook his head. "Of course not. Two ciders isn't enough alcohol to be dangerous to a pony, even one as small as him. He's just asleep."
"He fell asleep rather suddenly," Lucky noted.
Zero shrugged. "Like you said, he had too much to drink." He frowned at his third-empty bottle of rum. "Maybe we all have."
"You wanna call it a night?" Charcoal asked as he stretched in his seat.
"I'm okay with that," Lucky said as he set his empty glass back on the table. "Am I the only one who didn't drink more than usual to show off for the new guy?"
"What are you talking about? I had as much as I do every time!" Heatwave protested.
Lucky eyed the four empty bottles of mead next to Heatwave's seat and raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure about that? I think Booker is the only one more drunk than you."
"Four is nothing! You think I can't handle more?" Heatwave went to reach for another bottle, but Charcoal levitated it away from him.
"I think that's enough for you." Charcoal grabbed all the empty bottles and glasses with his magic, as well as everything on the table, and floated it all in front of him as he disappeared into the kitchen again. He reappeared a few moments later and sat back down in his chair.
Zero grunted as he stood up from the couch and stretched his back. "I'm gonna go upstairs. You mind helping get Booker onto my back, Charcoal?"
"You can leave him down here, it's not a problem," Lucky said. "We'll just make Heatwave sleep on the floor again."
"I slept on the floor last time!" Heatwave complained.
Zero shook his head. "It's no big deal. I still think we should replace two of those chairs with another couch so none of you have to sleep on the floor when we do this."
"It's your house, so it's up to you," Charcoal said as he used his magic to disentangle Booker from the pillow and levitated him onto Zero's broad shoulders. Zero nodded to him before carefully heading up the stairs toward the bedrooms.
"Do you think they're gonna fuck?" Heatwave asked after Zero had disappeared from view in a loud whisper that carried easily up the stairs.
"Probably. Zero will fuck anything with a hole, just ask my brother," Lucky replied, also loud enough for Zero to hear.
"Only if the hole gives consent!" Zero yelled back before closing a door.
"I'm assuming that means yes?" Heatwave asked. "Fun! I'm gonna go watch." He jumped out of his seat and ran unsteadily toward the stairs, but Charcoal grabbed his tail with his magic and pulled the energetic pony back to his seat.
"Idiot, you're married, remember?"
Heatwave looked like he was about to argue, but then he relaxed back into his seat. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that."
Charcoal sighed and shook his head. "I swear, you have the memory of a goldfish when you're drunk."
"But at least you're here to look out for me." Heatwave yawned and stretched his tired muscles. "Anyway, I get a couch this time, and there's nothing you can do to change that." He stuck his tongue out at Charcoal and went over to the one Booker had previously occupied.
Charcoal got up to claim the other couch, but Lucky had apparently gotten there while he and Heatwave were arguing, and he smiled at Charcoal. "Not this time."
Charcoal sighed to himself and flopped down in front of his chair. Sleeping on the floor sucked, but it was better than hearing Heatwave complain until he passed out. Hopefully he didn't wake up with a crick in his neck again.
Zero blinked his eyes open at the light streaming in through the blinds. Even though it was the smaller bedroom of the two, he'd picked this one years ago since window faced the rising sun. He'd always been a morning pony. There was nothing more invigorating to him than the start of a new day. Unless he was hungover, of course, but luckily it wasn't too bad this time.
Finally having noticed the warmth pressed against his chest, Zero glanced down, expecting to see Pure Luck in his bed, Lucky's brother and their last singer. That made it a little surprising to instead see Booker, and he remembered that Purity was all the way in Manehattan, working on his comics. "Oh yeah, that happened last night," he thought, flinching at a minor headache.
When Charcoal had first brought Booker over a couple weeks prior, Zero remembered thinking he was a mare at first. The pony's stature and face didn't really look like those of a stallion, and while it might be a turnoff for some, Zero actually thought he was kind of cute, which was weird because he didn't normally find mares attractive.
Zero reached up with one hoof and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was the second youngest member of the group now that Booker had joined, but even so, he felt old sometimes. Twenty four was still young, but he remembered being able to drink half a bottle of rum as a senior in high school and barely feel it in the morning. Now after just a third of a bottle, he felt noticeably more hungover than he used to.
Zero put his hoof down and glanced at Booker again, who was curled up tightly against his chest. The younger pony seemed to really love cuddling, and he'd even purred a bit when Zero had scratched him underneath the chin last night. Zero had almost been convinced he was half cat.
"Kitten," Zero mumbled. That wasn't a bad nickname, and it fit pretty well. Booker liked isolating himself sometimes, but he still enjoyed company, and he was quieter than most ponies. "It's a better nickname than New Blood," he thought to himself. He smiled and wrapped one foreleg around Booker. Zero wasn't much of a romantic, but he didn't mind a good cuddle.
Zero glanced down again, and he felt his smile fade as he noticed something. "So that's why he always wears clothes." The blanket had shifted, revealing the countless scars up and down Booker's forelegs. Zero could also faintly see one across his neck through his disheveled mane.
Booker had never seemed like an emotionally stable pony, but Zero didn't think he'd be a cutter. He'd had his own fair share of shit in his life as a colt, but he couldn't imagine how awful a pony would have to feel to do something like that. Of course, there was also the possibility Booker only did it for attention, but he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. It didn't make sense for him to cut for attention if one of the scars was across his throat.
Zero felt Booker shift, and after a moment his stunningly blue eyes opened halfway and peeked up at Zero through his mane. "'Morning," Zero said, forcing a smile. Booker grunted a reply, and he snorted in amusement. "Not a morning pony?"
"No," Booker grumbled before closing his eyes again.
Zero smiled slightly and shook his head. "I should go make breakfast. The others will probably be awake soon." Booker mumbled another reply, and Zero carefully slid out of bed and walked out into the hallway.
Zero hadn't known Booker for too long, but it was still like a slap to the face to realize one of his friends had been suicidal in the past, and might still be. "I'll have to remember to talk to him about that later. I hope he's doing okay now."
Booker stretched and cracked his tired eyes open. He already hated mornings, and it was made so much worse by his hangover. He was physically and mentally drained, his head was pounding, and his mouth felt as dry as the deserts of Saddle Arabia. At least the smell of biscuits and gravy wafting into the room was pleasant.
"Hey, breakfast is done," a voice said suddenly. Booker rolled over to see Zero standing in the doorway with a light dusting of flour coating his forehooves and chest.
"I'll be down in a minute," Booker replied as he pulled the covers up around his neck.
"You don't have to stay covered up. I already saw."
Booker sighed, annoyed at himself for being careless. He should have left his clothes on last night, but with how drunk he had been, it hadn't even crossed his mind. Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed and stood unsteadily on his hooves.
"I want to talk to you about that later, by the way," Zero said, looking more than a little concerned.
"It's nothing serious." Booker scratched his nose and looked away. "I might as well just tell everypony at breakfast and get it out of the way."
"If you think you're up for it." Zero turned and walked out the door before motioning for Booker to follow. "Come on, before Heatwave eats everything."
Booker glanced back at his hoodie, which was in a jumbled heap at the foot of the bed, before following Zero into the hallway and down the stairs. When he walked into the kitchen he saw Charcoal, Lucky, and Heatwave all seated at the table, with Heatwave already stuffing his face. Charcoal and Lucky both waved a greeting, and while Booker was certain they both noticed his scars, they at least didn't say anything about it.
"Kitten!" Heatwave called with his mouth full of food. Booker glanced at Zero, confused, and he shrugged.
"That's the nickname I picked out for you. I thought it fit pretty well," he said. Charcoal and Lucky nodded in agreement, and Booker decided to just accept it. It definitely could have been something worse.
"Sorry about Heatwave. We wanted to wait until everypony was here to eat, but you know how he is," Charcoal said as Booker sat down.
Booker shrugged and pushed his messy mane out of his eyes. "It's no big deal."
"Aw, look. It's our baby's first hangover," Lucky said jokingly to Charcoal.
Charcoal punched Lucky lightly in the shoulder and turned back to Booker. "You'll get used to it. Drink something and you'll be fine."
Booker took Charcoal's advice and decided to sip on some water before eating. Not that he could eat much considering the slight nausea he was feeling, combined with the fact that he could never eat a large breakfast without feeling sick.
Breakfast passed in a more subdued fashion than Booker had come to expect from the group, and he got the feeling Zero was the only morning pony out of the group. Heatwave seemed as energetic as ever, but he was like that even when he was tired.
Near the end of breakfast, Zero caught Booker's eye and raised an eyebrow at him in an inquisitive way. Booker shrugged in response and looked down at his now empty plate. He knew Zero wanted him to talk about his past, but it was just so hard to start conversations like that. Talking about deep topics always made him feel awkward, and he preferred to keep his problems to himself.
"So... Do you still want to talk about that?" Zero asked with a nod toward Booker's forelegs, taking the initiative for him.
Booker glanced at the others, who had all stopped eating and were looking at him curiously. Heatwave even managed to look placid for once. He sighed and shrugged. "Sure, but I don't really know where to start."
Lucky pushed his plate out of the way and leaned forward slightly onto the table. "Just start with why. Why cut in the first place?"
"I don't know, I guess I just kind of hoped somepony would notice and actually care enough to ask what was wrong. I was always invisible to others and nopony really cared about me, so I didn't know how else to ask for help. Obviously nopony noticed, anyway," Booker said as he scratched the scar along his neck. "Also, it was therapeutic to me, in a way. The physical pain took my mind away from my thoughts, and it was kind of calming. It was all I could do to cope."
"To cope with what?" Charcoal asked. "Tell us everything."
"A lot of things. I've never really thought much of myself, and while I can deal with that by itself, it was still a contributing factor." Booker sighed again and scratched his nose. This was the part he didn't like telling other ponies. He always worried they'd think he had gotten depressed over nothing and judge him for it. He already knew he was weak, both physically and mentally, but he didn't like hearing other ponies say it.
"The summer before freshman year of high school, I met a filly I really liked. We became friends, and soon after started dating. She quickly became the center of my universe, and nearly everything I did, I did for her. I think that was when I first learned what true happiness was. She seemed just as content as I was, and for nearly two years, that was that.
"Late sophomore year, I guess she decided she didn't love me anymore. She went behind my back and slept with another colt from our class. Looking back on it, I really should have seen it coming. I guess I put too much faith in her and ignored all the signs. It didn't take long for me to spiral into depression.
"A couple months after that my cat died, and that was when I started cutting. I didn't really have much left in my life at that point. I didn't enjoy anything anymore, I ignored and pushed away my friends and family, and I spent nearly every day in my room listening to music with the lights off. I tried holding on as long as I could, but it seemed impossible when the pain just gets worse and worse with seemingly no end. Partway through the summer, I decided I'd had enough," Booker said, lightly touching the line across his neck.
"Luckily I didn't cut deep enough, and my sister got home from her job in time to rush me to the hospital. I got stuck in therapy for a week and a half, and it actually helped a lot. After that they put me on medication, which helped further. Over the next few years I got mostly cleared up, but I also transitioned into the reclusive, insecure pony that I am now."
After a couple moments of silence, Heatwave was surprisingly the first one to speak up. "But you're not reclusive and insecure. At least, not anymore. I've never heard you talk that much."
Lucky and Charcoal nodded in agreement. "And if we didn't want you here with us you wouldn't be here right now, so we obviously see worth in you, even if you don't" Lucky ammended.
"They're actually kind of right," Booker thought. He wasn't sure how talking made him not insecure, but he could see the validity in the other statements. "Maybe. I guess drinking with you guys last night brought me out of my shell."
"That's a step in the right direction, but there has to be something we can do to help other than share a drink every now and then?" Zero asked.
Booker shrugged. "I think the best thing you could do is to keep treating me the same way you always have. Sharing all of that was actually a pretty big relief, and like I said, my depression is long gone. I haven't needed medication in a few years now."
"That'd good to hear. If you ever need somepony to talk to again, we'll listen," Charcoal said. Booker nodded his thanks and leaned back in his seat, glad that the conversation was over. As much as he preferred everything to be enjoyable and simple, he had to admit doing things like this every now and then could be helpful.
Everypony was silent for a few more seconds before Heatwave reached across the table and shoveled a bunch of pancakes and biscuits onto his plate. "Enough serious talk, let's have some fun! I'll bet I can eat more than you, Charcoal!"
"As if." Charcoal added food to his own plate to match Heatwave, and the two of them went at it, stuffing their faces past their limit.
Booker snorted in amusement and smiled to himself as he watched Charcoal and Heatwave. If he was going to be completely honest, his depression never fully went away, and he doubted it ever would. He'd carried a piece of it with him all these years, and it tended to resurface on occasion. Even so, with friends like these, he was starting to think that it wouldn't be a problem anymore.
My Voice Ain't Loud and My Mind's a Wreck, but My Friends Keep Me Sane
Ch. 4; A Concert and a Bit of Alcohol Later
"It's your guys' turn on stage. Try to be ready in ten minutes."
Booker looked up in time to see a pale pony's head disappear through the door of the room the band had been assigned to warm up in. They were backstage at one of Ponyville's bars getting ready for their first concert together, over three months after Booker had joined. As excited as he was, he felt his nerves creeping in with every passing moment. While he had gotten somewhat used to performing in high school, this was an entirely different setting, and he was more nervous about singing than he had been in years.
"Alright, let's go set up. Careful around the light fixtures, Heatwave," Zero said as he slung his guitar across his back and walked to the exit.
Heatwave scowled at Zero as he followed him out of the room. "I knocked a light over one time ."
Lucky followed shortly behind, but looked over his shoulder a little impatiently when he noticed Booker and Charcoal hadn't moved. "Are you guys coming?"
"Yeah, just give me a moment," Booker said. He was fumbling with a tube of eyeliner, struggling to get it on properly.
Charcoal turned to Lucky. "Tell Zero we'll be out in a minute."
"Okay, just don't take too long. I'd like this concert to go smoothly," Lucky said before shutting the door behind him.
"Don't mind him. He just wants the first concert with our new singer to be perfect, and the stress is getting to him." Charcoal raised an eye at Booker. "Need help?"
Booker nodded thankfully, and the eyeliner floated out in front of him as Charcoal took it and started putting it on for him. "Thanks. Rarity thought it would look good with the outfit, but I've never used makeup before." He glanced down at his clothes; a black faux leather jacket with red details and silver accents zipped half-way up, a striped red and black t-shirt that peeked out through the opening, distressed gray jeans, and a black lightweight choker that covered the scar on his neck without interfering with his singing. He'd also gotten some piercings recently; two silver rings on each ear near the tips, and two more rings on his bottom lip. They'd all dressed up a bit for the concert, and he was actually enjoying that part so far.
"Rarity acts more like your mom than Lucky does. You two have gotten close over the past few months," Charcoal commented.
"Yeah. I think she misses taking care of her younger sister now that she's all grown up, so I'm kind of filling that role right now, I guess."
"That makes sense." Charcoal took a step back and placed the eyeliner on a table. "Looks good. Everypony's gonna think you're a mare until they hear you sing, though. Speaking of which, are you nervous?" he asked as he floated a small duffel bag over to him and rifled through the contents.
Booker stood up and nodded. "Yeah, a little bit. I hope everypony thinks I'm a good enough replacement for Purity." The band's new singer hadn't been revealed to the public, so nopony would know it was him until the first song started. As cool as it was to have a sudden reveal like that, he was definitely feeling the pressure. At least the band hadn't become hugely popular over their first tour, so he hopefully wouldn't disappoint too many ponies.
"They will, don't worry. You sing good, and you also have more experience than he did." Charcoal pulled a bottle out of the bag and gave it to Booker. "Here. This should help."
Booker took the bottle and turned it over. It was White Oak, Charcoal's favorite whiskey. It was also more than one hundred and fifty proof, and he had no idea how Charcoal could stomach the stuff. "You want me to get drunk before the concert? Is that a good idea?"
Charcoal chuckled and shook his head. "No, just take a sip. That'll help your nerves. Most of us got stage fright when the band first formed, so we'd all take a drink before every concert. After a while you won't need it anymore."
Booker shrugged and uncorked the bottle. The strong scent of alcohol hit him in the face like a wall, and he blinked his eyes to clear the fumes. "Well, here goes nothing," he thought as he placed the bottle to his lips and took a small mouthful. The burn was immediate, stinging his entire mouth and making his eyes water.
"Not too bad, right?" Charcoal asked as he took the bottle back from Booker and placed it in his bag.
"It's, uh, something," Booker choked out after swallowing. It felt like what he imagined drinking rubbing alcohol would feel like.
Charcoal laughed and put the bag on a table before carefully levitating his drums into the air. "It's not for everypony. Anyway, Let's get going before Lucky gets mad at us."
Booker nodded and coughed a few times to clear his throat before following Charcoal out of the room and into the narrow hallway. Even though the stage was just a few meters away, he felt himself getting more and more nervous with each step. As he stepped out into the open and looked out at the crowd, he found himself wishing he'd taken that drink a lot sooner.
The bar was overflowing with ponies. There was only space for maybe three hundred or so indoors, but there was a crowd of about two hundred more outside. It wasn't a large concert by any means, but he hadn't been expecting this many in such a small venue.
"There are so many ponies here," Booker whispered to Charcoal as they walked onstage.
Charcoal nodded. "Our band may be new, but we still have fans wanting to hear our new singer. You're lucky your first concert wasn't in a big city." He started to get busy with setting up his drums, so Booker went over to his place in between Heatwave and Zero on the dimly lit stage.
"You ready for this?" Zero asked as Booker walked up.
Booker shrugged. "I'm excited, but really nervous."
"You'd have to be crazy not to be." Zero glanced quickly at the clock on the far wall before turning back to Booker. "So, Lucky had a last minute idea for your big reveal. We're gonna leave the lights low for the start of the first song, but two beats before you come in they're gonna go all the way up, so you'll need to be ready for that. Don't be staring at the lights or anything, or you'll get blinded. Think you can do it?"
Booker nodded. "I think so, yeah."
"Awesome. Let's rock." Zero glanced at the others to make sure everypony was ready, then turned and waved a signal to the pony controlling the lights and sounds. The lights dimmed even further, and after a quick count off from Charcoal, the band shot off.
While Zero hadn't finished the new album yet, he did write a single that they had planned to secretly premiere at the concert, adding to the surprise of the audience. It was a fast paced song that had about twenty seconds without vocals at the start, and before Booker knew it, the lights came on and he nervously launched into it.
For the entirety of that first song, Booker felt nothing but stress. Knowing every pony in the audience probably had unrealistic expectations for him was nerve racking, and even though at the end of it he felt he'd performed it better than he'd ever practiced, he was still extremely anxious. However, that worry quickly vanished when the song finished and the audience erupted. Booker could feel the stage shaking underneath him, and he didn't know a group of ponies that size could be so loud.
"Isn't that an amazing feeling? Your first concert is something you'll never forget, trust me," Zero called to Booker over the roar of the crowd, grinning widely.
Booker nodded, too stunned to speak. He had to be a more than adequate replacement for Purity, otherwise the crowd wouldn't have cheered so much. He smiled to himself as he felt his confidence return a bit, and his stress started to melt away.
Booker wasn't sure if he was started to get used to the stress, if it was the alcohol kicking in, or both, but as the concert wore on he quickly became more comfortable on stage. He'd even started to really enjoy it after a few songs.
All too soon, the concert came to an end as the speakers fell silent and the ponies in the audience began milling around, some going home to sleep off the alcohol they drank while others turned eagerly to their friends, not wanting to call it a night just yet.
Zero slung his guitar across his back and turned to Booker as the stage lights dimmed from blinding to manageable. "So how was your first concert?"
Booker grinned and shook his head, lost for words. "Incredible. I've been to a couple concerts, but I never thought performing in one would be quite like that. It was a lot more tiring than I expected, too."
Zero nodded. "It definitely is tiring, but it's all worth it."
"That wasn't too bad. You sang better than usual," Lucky said. Booker turned to see the green pony walking over from his spot on stage. "I'm glad your first concert went better than ours. Do you know what Charcoal did the very first time we performed?"
"Don't you dare tell him," Charcoal called from the end of the stage, where he was moving equipment off stage.
Zero and Lucky laughed, and Zero turned back to his microphone stand. "Anyway, we're the last band performing so we have to help clean up."
"Ah, the price of fame," Lucky joked.
"We were the last group? Isn't that usually when the post popular band of the night performs?" Booker asked as he started to help with breaking down the stage.
Zero nodded. "All the others around here are more garage bands than anything. We're the only ones who have performed outside of Ponyville before, and this isn't exactly a place that would attract larger bands from out of town."
"Huh. I didn't know that."
It didn't take too long to get everything on stage into the storage room, where stools, microphone stands, plastic cups, and various other things were stacked tightly against the wall and along shelves. Booker walked out of the cramped room and stretched his tired body.
"Hey! That was a lot of fun, wasn't it? Other than cleaning up, obviously," Heatwave said as he followed Booker out.
Booker nodded. "Yeah, it was great. Do we have another planned?"
Heatwave chuckled. "Already hooked, huh? I don't think there are any solid gigs yet, but Lucky has a few he's looking at. I guess we'll see what happens. Anyway, want to meet my wife? I can introduce you to Lucky's wife and kids, too."
"Orchid wouldn't bring our foals to a concert. Especially not one in a bar," Lucky said as he walked up behind Heatwave. "Pinkie usually looks after them when we're both gone. She and Orchid are pretty close."
"Damn, they're so cute. We really gotta bring Booker to your house someday. Anyway, let's go try to find them!" Heatwave said as he trotted off down the hall.
"You two go on ahead. We have a little more organizing to do," Lucky called as he turned back toward the storage room.
Booker went out to the main area of the bar, where he spotted Heatwave going up to a golden-brown unicorn with a flowing pale mane and deep hazelnut eyes. She was wearing a fluffy winter coat, and her eyes lit up when she saw him. The two of them touched noses, and Heatwave gestured for Booker to join them.
"Booker, come meet my wife, Cinnamon Latte!" Heatwave called excitedly. Cinnamon waved a greeting to him with a pleasant smile on her face.
"Hello," Booker said as he walked up. Cinnamon seemed like the kind of pony who was always in a good mood, and happiness radiated from her like light from a candle. It didn't take long for her contagious cheerfulness to affect Booker, and he could easily see why Heatwave fell in love with a pony like her.
Heatwave scanned the crowd again, straining on his short legs to see over the ponies around them. "Have you seen Orchid? I wanted to introduce Booker to her."
Cinnamon nodded. "I did, but she left. She said Pinkie could only watch her foals for a little while. Can you tell Lucky she had to go?"
"I'll tell him, don't worry," Heatwave said.
After that it sounded like the two of them got into their own conversation, so Booker occupied himself by looking around the crowd. He recognized a few ponies here and there, but most were either from out of town or Booker just hadn't met them yet. Ponyville may be a small town, but he hadn't been there for too long yet.
"Hey there," said a familiar voice behind Booker.
Booker turned to see a pegasus wearing a dark blue coat and a light gray scarf. "Hi! Hailstorm, right?" he asked.
"Yep. I didn't know you were the new singer for My Chemical Friendship," Hailstorm said.
Booker nodded. "I joined pretty soon after moving here. It's been a lot of fun."
"You looked like you were enjoying yourself up there. You're really good."
"Thanks," Booker said, feeling his cheeks flush slightly.
Their conversation was interrupted as Zero stormed over with an annoyed look on his face. "Hey, Zero. Is something wrong?" Booker asked.
"Heatwave again," Zero said with a sigh. "Heatwave, you put the microphone stands away, right?"
Heatwave turned away from Cinnamon and nodded. "Yeah, why?"
"The whole stack fell over and knocked down damn near everything else in the storage room. A bunch of the shelves fell off the walls, too. We have to clean it all up."
Heatwave scratched the back of his head and looked away." Um... oops?"
Zero shook his head. "Come on, let's take care of it now so we're not here past midnight."
"But what about going out to eat and getting drunk? We always do that after a concert! It's tradition!" Heatwave protested.
"Well, we can't if we ever want to perform here again."
"Fine." Heatwave said goodbye to Cinnamon and walked back toward the storage room. Booker went to follow, but Zero stopped him.
"You can go home if you want. It's super cramped in there with just three of us when the room isn't a total mess, so we probably shouldn't have five ponies in there stepping all over microphones and junk," Zero said.
"That means Booker can continue the tradition! Eat enough for the five of us, will you?" Heatwave called as he disappeared through a doorway.
Zero snorted and turned back to Booker. "If you do, don't drink anything. You're already buzzed. We don't need you getting drunk alone."
"Aw, you could tell?"
Zero tapped Booker on the forehead with one hoof. "Of course I could. Leave the lights on when you get home, will you?" Booker nodded, and Zero walked away to clean up the mess in the storage room.
"You're already getting drunk immediately after the concert?" Hailstorm asked jokingly.
Booker laughed and shook his head. "I just had a little bit before the concert to help with my nerves."
"Oh, that makes sense." Hailstorm glanced at the clock and scratched the back of her neck. "I could go with you if you don't want to eat by yourself. That way you wouldn't be drinking alone, either"
"Do you really want to?" Booker asked, surprised. He wasn't used to ponies he didn't know very well asking to hang out. "Is she asking if I want to go on a date with her?" he wondered. "Probably not. I think I'm looking into it too much."
Hailstorm nodded. "I wouldn't mind staying out a bit longer, and it's pretty normal for me to get home late, anyway."
"Sure, sounds fun."
"Alright. So where do you want to go?" Hailstorm asked.
Booker shrugged. "I don't know, I've only ever gone to a couple of places. What's best around here?"
Hailstorm tapped her nose a few times. "I know a good place. Come on." She led the way out of the bar and into the cold winter air. Hearth's Warming was only a few weeks away, and the town was already in full holiday spirit.
Before long, the two ponies arrived at a restaurant Booker was actually a regular of, which he probably shouldn't have seen as all that surprising. Zero had told him this was the best place to eat in Ponyville when he'd first moved in, and apparently many of the other residents agreed. It was the usual warm and cozy interior he was used to, just a little more festive. There were booths and tables situated around the large space and a bar along the far wall. The restaurant was mostly full, so they sat at a small empty booth next to the bar before flipping through the menu.
"Ooh, they brought back their Hearth's Warming cocktail this year. I've always wanted to try it," Hailstorm said, her eyes light with curiosity.
"Zero said it's really good, so I'll probably get one, too. You're old enough to drink?" Booker asked.
Hailstorm nodded. "Yeah, I turned eighteen last month." She peered closer at the menu. "Vanilla vodka, peppermint, cream, and nutmeg. Hmm. What's your alcohol tolerance like?"
"Not great. I'm not exactly sober to begin with, anyway."
"You might want to skip this one, then," Hailstorm said as she flipped her menu around and showed it to Booker.
Booker glanced at the ingredients and shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine. Charcoal gave me more than that my first time drinking."
"If you say so." Just then the waiter came up to their table, and after taking their orders he disappeared again.
"So how exactly did you end up working for Rarity and joining a band at the same time?" Hailstorm asked after a moment.
"That was entirely luck. Rarity came up to me at the Hay Burger and offered me a job after seeing something I'd made, and Charcoal caught me looking at one of the band's fliers later that day and asked if I wanted the spot. I wasn't originally looking for work here, I was just stopping by on my way to Canterlot to look for work," Booker explained.
"Really? That's pretty good luck then, if you're enjoying everything."
Booker nodded. "I am. I love working for Rarity, and being in a band is a lot of fun. It doesn't leave too much time for relaxing, though."
The waiter stopped by again to drop off their drinks, and Booker took his glass and glanced into it. "Ooh, there's a candy cane," he said as the waiter trotted away. "Did you ever suck on them until they became sharp as a foal?"
Hailstorm laughed and shook her head. "What? No, I've never heard of anypony doing that. What's the point? So you can stab somepony?"
Booker shrugged. "I don't know, just to fuck around I guess. Foals at my middle school used to do it all the time, and it got to the point where the teachers had to ban candy canes."
"I wish I had fun school stories like that. There weren't really any cool foals here growing up, but I guess that comes with it being such a small town," Hailstorm said. She stirred her drink with the candy cane and looked up at Booker. "Ever play easy way, hard way?"
Booker shook his head. "Nope. What's that?"
"It's a drinking game where we ask each other questions. Let's say I ask you something simple, like who was your hero as a foal. If I do that, then you take a drink. But if I ask you something hard, like what's your most painful memory, then I'd have to drink instead. I've played it with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo a few times over the years," Hailstorm said. "Um, they'd get in trouble if somepony found out I was drinking underage with them, so don't tell anypony. Anyway, wanna play?"
Booker shrugged. "Sure, why not. You wanna go first?"
"Alright." Hailstorm rested her head against one hoof and squinted her eyes. "Hmm... You've already had some to drink, so I'll start with a hard question. What's your biggest regret?"
"Starting off with a deep one, huh? Probably dating my ex girlfriend in high school. She was a bitch. Never date somepony who doesn't love you back," Booker said with a wry chuckle.
"That sounds like good advice. I'll keep that in mind," Hailstorm said before taking a drink.
"I guess it's my turn. How about an easy one. What's your favorite type of music?" Booker asked.
"Punk rock, obviously. I guess I'm still in my rebellious phase," Hailstorm joked as she took another drink and thought for a moment. "Pierce the Hail is probably my favorite. Their Selfish Marechines album is really good."
Booker nodded. "That's my favorite album of theirs. They're from the Crystal Empire, aren't they?"
"Yeah, that's how they got their name. Speaking of rebellious phases, have you ever had one?"
"Not really, but I had an emo phase." Booker took a drink and laughed to himself. "Well, maybe it isn't so much a phase since it's lasted for almost eight years so far, but whatever. Hmm. What's the reason behind your rebellious phase?" He asked as he drank again.
"Ah, a fun one." Hailstorm scratched her nose and sighed. "You know who my mom is by now, right? Well, we've never really seen eye to eye on some things. I usually look past it, but I got curious about who my dad was a few years ago, and mom wasn't exactly happy that I did. I guess she didn't want me asking that." She looked down at her drink and stirred it listlessly with the peppermint again.
"Wow, that's rough. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Booker said after a moment. He'd never even thought about who Rainbow Dash's husband would be, but even though he was curious now, he didn't want to force Hailstorm to keep talking. It didn't seem like an easy memory.
Hailstorm shook her head. "No, I want to, I'm just not sure what to say." She scratched her nose again and was silent for a few more seconds. "When I was just a filly, my dad died protecting me from an Ursa Minor. I was too young to remember much about him. I don't even know his name. The only thing that comes to memory is a pair of kind eyes.
"I wanted to know more about him, so I asked my mom if she could tell me. We don't have any pictures of him around the house, so that made me more curious. Instead of getting stories or a teary-eyed recollection of him when I asked, she just yelled at me and said to never ask about him again," Hailstorm said. She scowled to herself. "You'd think the element of loyalty would want to remember her dead husband, not forget about him. That's also why I dyed my mane red, in case you were wondering. I didn't want the same mane colors as her anymore."
Booker stayed quiet for a moment, unsure of how to react. If she were a friend he'd give her a hug, but he wasn't drunk enough to do that to somepony he barely knew. Instead he opted to reach across the table and place one of his hooves over hers. "I'm sorry all that happened. She probably has a reason, though," he said. "If it's been a while, why not try talking to her about it again?"
Hailstorm looked up from her drink. "You think I should?"
"I do. You deserve to know about your father. Your mom can't keep it from you forever," Booker said.
Hailstorm nodded. "Okay, I'll try asking her sometime soon." She smiled at Booker. "Thanks."
"Any time."
Hailstorm glanced past Booker and leaned back in her seat, but didn't pull her hoof away. "Anyway, it looks like our food is coming. Wanna take a break? I don't know about you, but I've had enough gloom for a while."
"Sure. I'm starving." Booker leaned back in his own seat and moved his drink out of the way so the waiter could put his plate on the table. He glanced at Hailstorm out of the corner of his eye and felt his cheeks flush with heat.
"Was that just the alcohol, or something else?" Booker pondered. As well as that, a familiar feeling had crept into his heart without him noticing; a feeling he hadn't felt since high school. "Did I... fall for Hailstorm?" It definitely seemed to go deeper than a simple crush, but as much as he wanted to believe in love at first sight, he hadn't exactly had good experience with that in the past. He'd just have to wait and see what would happen.
Booker's thoughts were interrupted as the waiter placed his plate of spicy barbecue grilled cauliflower and hayfries in front of him. He'd wanted to try something different, so he ordered an option he'd never had before. "Here you go, you two. Enjoy your meal," the waiter said as he gave Hailstorm her plate and walked away.
The two of them ate their food, occasionally making small talk but mostly just eating. The cauliflower was surprisingly tasty, and they hayfries were as good as they always were. It didn't take long to finish, and once they were done Hailstorm stretched in her seat and let out a contented sigh. "I'll never get tired of the food here," she said. "Now that that's over with, wanna continue the game?"
Booker nodded. "Sure. I think it was your turn?"
"Yep. Let me think for a moment," Hailstorm said as she placed a hoof over her mouth. Booker noticed her face was flushed slightly, and he noted how drunk he felt, too. Apparently it was easy to drink more than you thought when you were having fun.
"I've got an easy one. You mentioned having a girlfriend in high school, but are you dating anypony now?"
Booker scratched the back of his neck. "Kind of? It's more just friends with benefits. You know, something to keep us occupied until one of us finds something more permanent. Zero isn't one for romance, and he's not my type of pony, anyway."
Hailstorm raised her eyebrows. "Really? You and Zero? Who's the top?" she asked jokingly.
"Zero is. And that's two in a row, so you have to drink, too," Booker said.
"Asking 'who's the top' isn't a hard question, so you have to drink twice. I'll let you ask two, too."
"Fine." Booker took two long drinks and scratched his nose. "I've got an easy one, but it's your fault for bringing up the topic. How many ponies have you slept with?"
Hailstorm snorted and drank. "You're lucky I'm a virgin, otherwise I'd make you drink again."
"You are? I didn't expect that," Booker commented.
Hailstorm nodded. "Yeah. Remember how I said none of the foals I knew growing up were cool? Not to be rude, but they weren't really worth knowing. Speaking of which, how many ponies have you slept with?"
"Just Zero, actually," Booker said before taking another drink. He frowned and glanced at Hailstorm. "Wait, what happened to my two questions?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." Hailstorm shrugged. "Sorry. You can ask them now, I won't interrupt."
Booker shook his head and thought to himself. The game was getting more sexual than he thought was appropriate with somepony he barely knew, so he decided to change topics. "Here's an easy one. How many rock concerts have you been to?"
"Ooh, that's a good one. Nine including tonight, I think. That was my second time seeing My Chemical Friendship live. First time with you as the singer, obviously," Hailstorm said as she drank again.
"Nice. I wish I could have gone to that many." Booker rested his chin on one hoof and thought for a moment. "Who do you idolize?"
"Idolize? Hmm... It actually used to be my mom. She was an incredible Wonderbolt before she retired, but obviously I don't look up to her all that much anymore," Hailstorm replied. "I'd probably have to say Vapor Trail. She's an amazing flier, but she's close to retirement, too. I've always wanted to be a Wonderbolt to follow in my mom's hoofsteps, but after a while I realized the main reason I want to be one is because they're awesome and it would be such a fun job. I can't wait to apply to the Wonderbolt Academy next summer now that I'm old enough."
"That definitely seems enjoyable. Do you think you'll get in?" Booker asked.
Hailstorm pulled her shoulders back and nodded. "Of course! You do know I'm the daughter of Rainbow Dash, right? And that was a third question, but I'll let it slide this time."
Booker went to take another drink, but frowned when nothing but a few drops slipped out of his glass. He glanced at it before placing it back on the table. "Oh, that's it for me. I guess I can't drink for that question."
"Here, have the rest of mine. There's no cheating in this game," Hailstorm said before sliding her glass over to Booker.
Booker raised an eyebrow at Hailstorm. "You're trying to get me wasted, aren't you?" He asked before finishing off her cocktail. He hadn't had too much alcohol in the first half of their drinking game, but even so he'd already begun to feel more than a little tipsy, and he knew it would only get worse after a few more minutes. Had he been sober, he would have realized getting drunk with someone he barely knew probably wasn't the best choice, but ego and the heat of the moment had driven him to it.
"Anyway, I'd love to stay and chat longer, but we should probably head home before we get totally drunk and make fools of ourselves. We do have reputations to maintain, after all," Hailstorm joked. "Besides, you've gotta be tired after the concert."
Booker nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, you're probably right." He hated to admit it, but now that he thought about it, he did feel pretty tired. There were a couple of pens in a small holder at the end of the table, and Booker grabbed one and wrote on a napkin to leave the bill for his food on his tab. He ate there fairly frequently, so he had one with the restaurant. After doing so, he stood up from the booth and very narrowly avoided falling face first onto the floor.
"Damn, I had a bit more to drink than I thought," Booker said as he shook his head. "Luckily this place is mostly empty now."
"I did mention you might want to skip the Hearth's Warming cocktail. There's a lot of alcohol in those," Hailstorm said. She left enough bits on the table to pay for her own meal and slid onto the floor. "You live with Zero, right? Can you really make it all the way to the end of town like that?"
Booker nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine."
Hailstorm looked him over and shook her head. "No, you won't. Come on, I'll walk with you and make sure you don't collapse in somepony's yard and puke all over their azaleas or something."
Booker opened his mouth to protest, but then he realized that gave them more time to be together which wasn't exactly a bad thing, so instead he just shrugged. "Sure, why not." He frowned. "Do azaleas grow in the winter?"
"Maybe? I know absolutely nothing about plants," Hailstorm said. "Now come on, let's get you home before you pass out."
The two of them walked back out into the cold air, and Booker was glad to have Hailstorm's company. She walked close enough that their wings brushed; almost so close that a passing pony might mistake them for a couple. This only added to Booker's usual craving for physical affection, and it didn't take long for the rest of the alcohol to kick in and for all of his self control to go out the window.
"Woah, what are you doing?" Hailstorm asked as Booker suddenly leaned most of his weight on her.
"Warm," Booker said as he nuzzled up against the side of her neck.
Hailstorm glanced worryingly around them, but luckily they were already at the edge of town and there wasn't a single pony in sight. "Man, you're really wasted, aren't you?" she asked.
Booker simply replied by mumbling the word "soft" into her neck.
Hailstorm sighed and smiled to herself. Normally she wouldn't want this kind of attention in public, but everypony else around was already asleep and they were only a few dozen meters from his house, so what harm was there in just letting it happen? "Alright, let's get you home before you puke on me or something," she said as she reached one wing around Booker to support his weight.
As they got near Booker and Zero's house, the front door opened and light streamed out around a silhouette.
"Damn it, Booker. What did I say about not getting drunk?" the pony called as he stepped outside. Hailstorm recognized him as Zero, and was a little excited to be meeting another member of My Chemical Friendship. "A little more than just drunk, apparently."
"You said to not get drunk alone. But I wasn't alone," Booker slurred.
Zero sighed and shook his head before turning politely to Hailstorm. "I see you've discovered what happens when he gets drunk. Sorry for my clingy nuisance."
Hailstorm shook her head. "He's fine, don't worry. We had a lot of fun."
"That's good. Are you coming inside, Booker?" Zero asked.
"Yes!" Booker yelled before staggering over to Zero and burying his face in the larger pony's chest. Hailstorm thought she heard him say "warm" again, but his voice was too muffled to tell, and she giggled.
Zero sighed again. "Well, thanks for helping him stumble home. Are you alright to fly home in this cold?"
Hailstorm nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. See you guys later."
"Bye!" Booker said loudly, much louder than he needed to from such a short distance. Zero simply nodded to her.
Hailstorm turned away and went to fly into the air, but immediately after taking off she felt herself lose balance and she tumbled into the snow a few meters away. Her cheeks began to flush with embarrassment, and she quickly pulled herself out of the snow bank and shook her head.
"Are you okay?" Zero asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Hailstorm unsteadily stood back up and brushed the snow off of herself. "I guess I'm more drunk than I'd thought."
"We've got a guest room you can stay in if you want. Booker doesn't really use it for anything other than storage anymore."
Hailstorm shrugged. While she was too drunk to fly, she at least had enough mental capacity left to realize flying such a long distance in her condition would almost certainly end up with her plummeting into a snow bank and freezing to death. "Sure, thanks."
Zero nodded and turned back toward the house. The three of them walked into the warm indoors, and Zero led the way up the stairs. Booker immediately went into one of the rooms and shut the door behind him. There was a loud thud soon after, and Zero sighed again before leading Hailstorm to the next room down the hall.
"Here it is. The bedding is clean, so don't worry about that. You're welcome to stay for breakfast in the morning, but Booker isn't a morning pony, so he may or may not join us," Zero said.
"Sounds good. Thanks for letting me stay the night," Hailstorm said.
Zero shrugged. "It's no big deal. Good night."
"'Night," Hailstorm said before walking into the bedroom and shutting the door.
Zero walked back into his own bedroom to see Booker already undressed and lying half-asleep underneath the thick blanket. "I think I'm in love!" he said as Zero closed the door.
Zero snorted and shut off the light before walking over to his own side of the bed. "You're drunk. See how you feel about it in the morning before you decide to marry her."
"You aren't my mother. Only Lucky can boss me around like that," Booker said quietly immediately before falling asleep.
Zero sighed and stared at the dark ceiling. He knew their relationship was only supposed to be temporary, but he didn't like the possibility of it ending so suddenly. Even so, he wasn't really big into romance, so he was certain he'd be able to find somepony else without any real grief.
"Oh well. I was getting kind of tired of always being the top, anyway," Zero thought as he drifted off into sleep.
My Voice Ain't Loud and My Mind's a Wreck, but My Friends Keep Me Sane
Ch. 5; Snow and Confessions
Booker groaned and rubbed his tired eyes. "Eugh. I feel like shit," he mumbled, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the window. Hangovers were nothing new to him by this point, but he must've really had a lot to drink the night before. Most of it was a blur, and he couldn't recall much after he'd finished eating dinner.
The smell of Zero's apple-cinnamon oats was wafting in through the open door, and Booker smiled to himself. Prior to living with the older pony the most he'd eat for breakfast was a couple slices of toast. He really enjoyed all of the small things Zero did. He needed to thank him sometime soon.
"Oh yeah, speaking of which," Booker thought to himself. Zero had said something about waiting until he was sober to try and figure out his feelings for Hailstorm. "Hmm. I still feel like she's the right kind of pony for me, and just thinking about her makes me feel happy," he thought, feeling his face flush slightly. Hailstorm was really cool and a lot of fun to be around. She had a tough outside and was pushy but not obnoxious, and she had a softer, kind part of her deep inside that he had caught glimpses of. There wasn't a single thing he could think of that he didn't like about her, but to be fair, they hadn't exactly known each other for long.
Booker shook his head, clearing the embarrassing thoughts. As much as he liked Hailstorm, there was no way she'd fall for a pony like him. More than likely he'd never end up seeing her again. He sighed and rolled slowly out of bed before walking out of the bedroom and to the stairs, trying to not make any quick movements as to avoid worsening his headache.
The sound of faint voices coming up the stairs made Booker freeze, and he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I guess Hailstorm hasn't left yet," he thought. He'd expected her to be long gone by the time he worked up the energy to get out of bed, so he was a bit surprised to hear that she was still there. He took a deep breath to calm his heart that had already started racing, and walked down the stairs to the living room.
"Thanks again. Can you tell Booker I'm sorry for not saying bye? I really should get home now," Hailstorm said to Zero, standing in the middle of the living room with her back turned toward Booker. She'd just finished putting on her coat and she was reaching for her scarf, which was lying on the table.
Zero nodded from his position halfway inside the kitchen. "No problem. And I'll tell him, don't-" he broke off when he saw Booker standing on the stairs, and he gave him a warm smile. "Actually, I don't think I need to."
Hailstorm turned around, and Booker thought he'd imagined a flicker of happiness cross her face. "Oh, you're awake! From the way Zero made it sound I didn't think you'd be up until past ten."
Booker rubbed his eyes sleepily and walked down the last couple steps. "Normally I wouldn't be, but Zero left the curtains open again."
"Sorry," Zero said with a shrug before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Well, sorry I can't stay, but I really do need to go. I had a really good..." Hailstorm had finished putting on her scarf and had glanced at Booker, but something had apparently caught her attention as her voice faded out and she stared at something underneath him.
Booker raised an eyebrow and glanced down, and then mentally facehoofed himself for not wearing something to cover his scars. "Oops. Forgot about that." He looked back up at Hailstorm. "Umm, it's a bit of a long explanation."
Hailstorm shook her head and stepped closer to Booker. "That's okay, you can tell me next time we hang out."
Booker felt his heart catch in his chest. "You really want to?"
"Of course. I really enjoyed last night. You're a lot of fun to be around," Hailstorm said.
Booker smiled shyly and looked away. He could feel his cheeks burning, and there was no way Hailstorm didn't notice. "Sounds great. What time?"
"How about next Saturday at noon by the lake?"
Booker nodded. "I can do that."
Hailstorm grinned at him. "Awesome. See you then," she said. She glanced at the kitchen before giving Booker a quick hug, then she walked outside and disappeared through the door with one last wave.
Booker stared after her, feeling his heart pound in his chest. She actually wanted to meet up with him again. Hailstorm, the pony who he felt his best and his happiest around, had asked him out on a date. Well, she hadn't explicitly stated that it was a date, but he was taking it as one.
"Wow, what did she do that made you so silent?" Zero asked jokingly.
Booker shook his head and turned to face Zero, who was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. "Nothing," he said, knowing full well the redness of his face gave away the lie.
Zero raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Mhm. Come on, I didn't wake you up early and make a bunch of extra food to have it go cold."
Booker furrowed his brows. "You left the curtains open on purpose? Why?"
"So you could talk to Hailstorm before she left, duh. I was hoping you'd wake up soon enough to eat breakfast with her, but I guess your hungover ass was even more knocked out than usual."
Booker laughed. "Yeah, I was. I had a lot to drink last night."
"Really? I never noticed," Zero joked. "Now come eat, there's still plenty left."
Booker nodded and walked toward the kitchen. "Okay." It really was amazing how much Zero looked out for him. From the moment he'd moved to Ponyville, he'd been like an older brother. Well, a brother with one obvious exception, but he'd still been there for Booker in every sense of the phrase. "Oh, and Zero? Thank you."
Booker and Hailstorm collapsed in the snow under the setting sun, their sides sore from laughter and their legs aching from exhaustion and the cold. They'd spent the better part of the day messing around, doing things like sliding down the snowy mountains, throwing snowballs at unsuspecting ponies, throwing snowballs at each other, and anything else they could come up with. They'd talked about Booker's past earlier that day, and while Hailstorm was understanding, he got the feeling she thought what he did was an overreaction, even if she was too nice to say it out loud. Honestly, he fully agreed with her.
"Wow, it's been a while since I just took the time to have some fun," Hailstorm said after taking a moment to catch her breath. "Working on the farm takes up most of my time."
Booker rolled over onto his side to face Hailstorm. "Oh yeah, I forgot you lived at Sweet Apple Acres. What's it like there?"
Hailstorm shrugged. "It's alright. I definitely miss our old home, but the Apples are nice to be around. Big Mac and Sugar Belle just had their colt, so he's been too busy to take care of much else recently. Mom and I help out with some of the work. I guess you could think of it as our rent."
"That makes sense," Booker said. "It's good that it's tolerable, at least."
Hailstorm nodded. "Yeah. Oh, that reminds me," she said as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "I talked to my mom about my dad again."
Booker sat up and brushed some snow out of his mane. "You did? What'd she say?"
"She was more understanding this time, but she didn't tell me much. She said it was still too much for her to think about, even over fifteen years later, and she wants a bit more time. Dealing with emotional pain was never a quality of hers."
Booker raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's why she wouldn't tell you before?"
Hailstorm nodded. "I'm still a little upset that she couldn't have told me that sooner, but I can at least understand her reasoning now. And apparently anything she had left of him was destroyed along with our house. That's why there aren't any pictures or anything."
"Oh. Yeah, that all makes more sense now," Booker commented. "Is that really enough for you, though?"
Hailstorm nodded again. "I think so. For now, anyway. One day when she's ready I'll learn, and that's enough for me."
"That's good, then. I'm glad you'll get to find out some day," Booker said.
"Me too." Hailstorm grabbed some of her red mane and started playing with it, trying to hide some of the heat building in her cheeks. "Thanks, by the way."
Booker cocked his head. "For what?"
"For being here, I guess. For listening. I never would have asked my mom about my dad again if you hadn't suggested it. I just would have kept believing my assumptions about her, and I probably would've stayed cold toward her for the rest of my life," Hailstorm said after a moment.
"That's what friends are for. I'm happy I could help," Booker replied.
Hailstorm nodded and continued playing with her mane. "I'm thinking about letting it grow out to its natural color," she said after a while.
"Really?" Booker asked in surprise.
"Yeah. I don't really have a reason to keep dyeing it anymore. It's kind of a hassle to deal with, really."
Booker nodded. "I think if you want to, then you should. It's your decision."
Hailstorm turned her head away. After a moment she stretched her forelegs before flopping back into the snow. "Ah, today's been a lot of fun."
"Yeah," Booker agreed as he laid back in the snow. The two of them sat there for a while, just relaxing under the dying light of day.
"Hold on a minute," Booker thought to himself. He scowled at a cloud floating above him, trying to remember the exact wording of their conversation. "I'm getting the feeling I unintentionally just friendzoned Hailstorm. Not once, but twice." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Oops. I should probably say something to fix that. The sooner, the better." This side of relationships was never something he was good at, the guesswork at what the other pony was really saying. Flirting with him was like flirting with a brick wall.
After desperately trying to figure out what to say for a few seconds, Booker decided to open his mouth and pray that whatever came out wasn't complete nonsense. Just as he was about to speak, though, Hailstorm spoke up.
"You know, you really are as dense as my mom's pound cake," Hailstorm said.
Booker laughed. "I know. I'd always overthink everything as a foal, so I guess I kind of taught myself to take everything at face value."
"Well, I don't think I can be any more obvious than this," Hailstorm said as she rolled onto her side. Her face was almost as red as her mane, and Booker had a feeling he knew what she was going to say before the words even left her mouth. "I think I'm in love with you."
Booker shifted uncomfortably in the snow. There was no way somepony like her could come to that conclusion if she were sane. "Are you drunk?"
Hailstorm hit Booker in the shoulder with one forehoof. "No! And before you ask, this isn't a joke, either."
"But why me? There are easily fifty other stallions here who would have been a better choice," Booker said.
Hailstorm raised an eyebrow. "There are only about fifty other stallions our age in all of Ponyville."
"Exactly."
Hailstorm shook her head and sighed. "Look. Believe it or not, I've thought long and hard about this. Even if you can't see the good in yourself, there's plenty about you to love. And we may have been drunk, you can't seriously tell me you didn't feel an immediate connection last week." Booker hesitated for a moment, so she continued. "I won't hurt you like your ex did, if that's something you're worried about."
"You promise?" Booker asked.
Hailstorm nodded. "I swear on my life. Loyalty is one of the things I inherited from my mom."
"Okay." Despite himself, Booker couldn't help but smile. Hailstorm didn't seem like she was lying. She really did love him. "I love you too, by the way."
"Good. Now was that so hard? We could have skipped that whole conversation if you'd just trusted me," Hailstorm asked jokingly. "Oh, and that means you have to stop fucking Zero."
Booker laughed. "Yeah, I guess I still kind of need to learn to trust ponies again. And I already have, don't worry. I think he must've gotten suspicious about us."
"Okay. And while you're learning to trust again, I'll also teach you how to value yourself, since I'm so good at that," Hailstorm said as she puffed out her chest.
"I'm guessing that's something else you inherited from your mom?" Booker joked.
"Yeah, 'spectacular ego' is just one of many things. I can't cook, either. Remember when I said you were denser than my mom's pound cake? You could fight a dragon with one of those things. They're horribly inedible. There's a reason neither of us help out with the cooking at the Apples' farm."
Booker chuckled. "Well, luckily I'm decent at cooking, so we don't have to worry about that anyway."
"Hmm, moving quickly, are we? You might just be fast enough to keep up, after all," Hailstorm said jokingly. At least, Booker thought she was joking.
"Oh, um, I wasn't really implying..." Booker stammered, realizing the implication of what he'd said.
Hailstorm laughed and shook her head. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on moving out just yet. But if we do get that far, you'll be doing the cooking."
"Okay, but you don't get to complain about what I make."
"Deal." Hailstorm sat up and stretched her forelegs. "Man, it's getting late. I should probably head home soon," she said.
Booker nodded in agreement. "Yeah. It's starting to get really cold, too."
"Yep." Hailstorm stood up and shook the snow from her mane. "Oh, and I don't usually like PDA, but I'll make an exception this one time," she said as she leaned in and gave Booker a quick kiss on the lips, taking him by surprise. She then walked a few steps away and waved to him with one wing before taking off into the air.
"That really just happened," Booker mumbled. He pulled himself to his hooves and shook himself, trying to clear the butterflies that had formed in his stomach. Something in the back of his mind earlier that day had told him that the day was likely to end somewhat like this, but he'd just pushed the thought off, assuming he was looking into things too much. After all his years of being the shy pony nopony talked to or enjoyed being around, he now had a stable job, an enjoyable hobby, and now, a girlfriend who loved him just as much as he loved her.
Booker smiled to himself, not caring how red his face probably was at that point as he happily trotted home. It had taken a while, but he finally felt like he mattered to somepony. There were ponies around him now who cared about him. Friends, and maybe even a future family. He felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in his recent memory. It was all he'd ever really wanted.
My Voice Ain't Loud and My Mind's a Wreck, but My Friends Keep Me Sane
The wooden chair creaked slightly as Booker leaned all the way back in it and stretched his tired muscles. He'd spent most of the day hunched over a sewing machine, piecing together a fairly intricate dress Rarity had asked him to make. It had been a couple weeks since he'd started working for her, and she'd started challenging him quite a bit with a few complex designs. He'd managed to keep up fairly well so far, though he found he didn't quite like working for another pony. Trying to constantly worry about somepony else's standards felt pretty stressful at times.
"How's that dress coming along?" Rarity asked from across her workroom, where she was making minute adjustments to another dress she had on a mannequin. It was a fairly simple base made up of every color on the rainbow, along with a few showy additions that she had amended earlier that day to add some flair.
Booker reached up and slid his headphones off his ears so they sat around his neck. "It's hard, but I'm getting it. It's just about done." He glanced out the window, where the sun was already setting. It was surprising, how quickly time seemed to pass. His job as Rarity's apprentice definitely felt like work, but even so, it was enjoyable enough that most days ended before he'd even realized it.
Rarity nodded and smoothed out a wrinkle in her dress before stepping back to admire it. "That's good, but don't rush it. It's okay for you to take more time if it means one or two less errors in the finished product."
"I know." Booker neatly folded the scraps of cloth and placed them aside. "I'm gonna head home now."
"Is it that time of day already? Oh my, it is quite late," Rarity said after glancing at the clock on the wall. "Even after all these years, time still flies when I'm working. If anything, the days are passing faster than they did when I was a filly. I'll see you on Monday, then. Have a good weekend."
"You too." Booker stood up from his seat and rubbed his left shoulder. He really needed to remember to get up and walk around every once in a while to avoid getting so sore.
Just as Booker was pushing in his chair, the front door to the boutique swung open and an energetic pegasus trotted in. Her ice-blue coat and long crimson mane weren't out of the ordinary, but something about her face shape and rose eyes felt vaguely familiar to Booker. Also, he got a feeling of déjà vu when he looked at her cutie mark; a snowstorm with an electric blue lightning bolt in the middle. She looked about his age; had she moved here from his hometown as well? If she were an old classmate that would explain why he thought he'd recognized her, but for some reason he didn't think that was why. He frowned to himself and kept trying to remember her as she went casually across the room.
"Hey, Rarity!" the pegasus called in a fairly raspy voice. That added to Booker's feeling of familiarity, and a pony flashed through his mind, one who was definitely not that young. He shrugged to himself. He'd probably remember later that night in bed, or some other random time. He grabbed the unfinished dress he was making and went to put it in the wardrobe.
"Hailstorm, darling, just the pony I was about to go out looking for. I finished repairing your mother's dress for the Gala tomorrow. What do you think?" Rarity asked, motioning toward the dress she had finished a few minutes ago.
Hailstorm turned to face the dress and tilted her head at it. "It looks good, I guess, but is she really gonna wear something like that? Normally she doesn't like so many... frilly bits."
"Trust me, she'll love it. I've been making her Gala dresses for almost thirty years now, so I know what she will and won't wear. I just wish I could get her into something as fabulous as her wedding dress again. Only a dull pony could object to dressing up like that at every opportunity," Rarity said with a smile. "But don't tell her I said that. She doesn't like to be called boring."
Hailstorm giggled. "I won't, don't worry. Can I do anything for you while I'm here?"
Rarity shook her head as she levitated the dress off the mannequin and over to Hailstorm. "No, thank you. I'm done for the day, so there isn't much left to do."
The sound of Booker closing the wardrobe caught Rarity's attention, and she waved a hoof toward where he was standing. "Oh, you haven't met my new assistant yet, have you? He just moved in from Maresville about two weeks ago. Hailstorm, meet Booker."
Hailstorm smiled and waved to Booker before slinging the dress across her back. "Hello! Maresville is really close to Baltimare, isn't it?"
Booker waved back shyly with one wing and nodded. "Yeah. I went to school in Baltimare," he said, hoping she'd catch on if that was indeed where he remembered her from.
"Sweet. I went to Baltimare a couple of times with my mom when I was younger. It's kind of a stuffy place, isn't it?"
Booker nodded again. He could probably assume he saw Hailstorm once while she was on one of those trips, and that's why she looked familiar. "Yeah, that's why I left."
"I don't blame you." Hailstorm adjusted the dress so it was resting more evenly across her back and turned to Rarity. "I should head back before mom starts to wonder what's taking me so long. She left planning until the night before again. You know how she can be sometimes," she said. She nodded a farewell to Rarity and Booker, then trotted back out of the store before shutting the door behind her.
Rarity put the mannequin back in its spot and turned to Booker. "You'll probably see her around fairly often. Her mother is quite the busy pony, so she sends Hailstorm here as her errand pony whenever she doesn't have the time to come herself. Is everything alright?" she asked, noticing Booker's puzzled expression.
Booker shook his head. "Yeah, she just looked really familiar."
"I imagine she would. Hailstorm is the daughter of Rainbow Dash. I'm sure you know who she is?"
Booker raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"
Rarity nodded. "Yes. Most other ponies are shocked when they find out, too. They either think Rainbow isn't the type of pony who would want a foal, or they assume she's a lesbian, for some odd reason. I have nothing against that, of course, but it's an incorrect assumption. I think her mane colors and tomboyish nature throw ponies off. Her living with Applejack likely adds to their fantasies. Rainbow's house was completely destroyed during a mishap a while back."
"Huh." From what Booker had heard about Rainbow Dash, he'd never have thought she would want to be slowed down by a relationship, let alone by having a foal. Then again, he'd only really heard stories about her from her glory days, and those were ages ago.
Booker glanced at the door Hailstorm had disappeared through, feelin an odd tingle in his chest. Something told him he'd be seeing a lot more of her in the coming months, and not just in the way Rarity had suggested.
